#no one knows when I haven't drawn anything in a while. only me

[lunarxcity]

Why here? (Part VI to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort ( Now this one is a bit different from the rest and is a bit angsty and more Eris and Azriel focused so we'll see how that goes )

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, IV, and V if you missed them!

-

There is an enchanted chessboard older than the cauldron itself. Before the fae inhabited this world and when the creatures in the prison roamed free Fate had gifted the Mother a chessboard. They play more often than not and through the centuries the stakes have gotten higher and higher.

Around the times of the first high lords, when the lines of the courts were being drawn and the Cauldron was being built an intruder had run interference on their game. A small black tendril, nameless in nature and free in spirit, the first shadow of this world. The emergence of the first shadowsinger had awoken it, apparently teaching it to shift through the different worlds and it had accidentally stumbled upon the Mother's. The shadow had swirled around the pieces, animating them and moving them around which gave the Mother the wonderful idea of turning her pieces into the lives of actual fae as the chess games had become rather boring lately.

So for centuries, the Mother and Fate have been writing the destinies of unsuspecting fae. Move after move, piece after piece. Now this particular game has hit quite a standstill. Move after move and yet no clear winner or end in sight. The story of you and Azriel has been a rather difficult one to craft and the game has been played for hundreds of years, it's vicious and cut-throat. The Mother who has been playing for you has been going for direct and sharp moves, while Fate who has been playing for Azriel has been going for the unsuspecting moves, the ones that you don't realise are happening until it's too late.

"How long are we going to make them dance around each other for?" The Mother looked at Fate with her all-knowing gaze before she began to eye her pieces, a pensive look that only belonged to someone who is actively working out their strategy because if the Mother hated one thing it was losing.

Fate looked back at her, "We could continue this game for all eternity darling. What's the rush when we have forever? You do know how I love a slow dance." Fate had always loved the journey, he loved to craft these elaborate stories for the Mother's characters, he always told her that he believed it would make the payoff better, but she was rather fond of these characters and they had been playing for so very long.

The Mother made her move. She sighed, "Haven't we made them go through enough? I do like these ones they might be my favourites." She looks at him in his ethereal eyes, glowing with a light that was anything but mortal, "You do know the sister plotline was a bit much. She has gone through enough any more struggles and she might not even want the mating bond anymore."

He looks at her and then the pieces, competition lacing his very being, he moves his piece. "I believe that suffering is the only way to bring out the truth of someone's character. It is in these moments of darkness that we must look actually look at ourselves and truly see us for what we are."

He picks reaches out across the table and holds her hand. "This is the only time we can truly change for the better. They would have never been happy together otherwise my love. You know that you made them both too stubborn for their own good." Fate gives the Mother a blinding smile, one with all the kindness and reprise that he refuses to give the ones who's destiny he is in charge of.

She gives him an annoyed look. Not one of true annoyance but rather an I'm annoyed your right and know me well enough to know I agree with you kind of annoyance. She gives a small smile back and goes, "Yes the shadowsinger reminds me of a certain someone too. Someone who is also too stubborn for his own good and refuses to accept a loss.

At this the Mother smirks and moves her piece, she looks at Fate with a mischievous grin and forces his hand. Very few had the power to tamper with Fate, but right now the Mother had him in the palm of her hand. She smiles and for the first time in almost 500 years she it looks like the game is going in her favour, the endgame is near and she refuses to lose.

"Check."

-

In the Gardens of Velaris, there was a shadowsinger hiding in the shadows. This was not an unusual sight, as his job description entails spying and the shadows are curious creatures, what was unusual was the feeling of the mating bond that had just snapped for Azriel.

He has been yearning for this very thing for Centuries, so now that he has it, why does the world feel like it's collapsing beneath his feet. You were only a few feet away in the distance. He could literally see you. See you laughing with Eris. Eris.

Rage envelops him and a way of thinking so primal and ancient is fighting with his rational mind. Well as rational as it could be mind. A bombshell has been dropped on him and he is trying his best under the current circumstances to stay calm and not tear Eris' throat out for being that close to you and even worse, making you laugh.

Shadows emanate from every fibre of his being. The shadows take over, and Night hears them, and together, they envelop the court in an all-consuming blackness that snuffs out every light source for miles. It had only lasted for a millisecond, barely anyone had noticed it and those who did had just assumed they had blinked or it was a trick of a light, but he could tell you did.

You started looking around frantically. Cauldron save him he couldn't face you right now. He had no right to even look at you. After the initial shock of learning that you were his mate, the reality of everything that he has done came crashing down on him. Azriel can't deal with himself. The reality of what he has put you through. He pined over Mor for over a century. He almost invoked a Blood Duel over Elain. You were his mate and he had forsaken your bond. Forsaken your bond for another fae's mate. Your friend's mate.

Mother free him from this torment. Everything came crashing into him at once. Reminders of every time that he had ignored you for another female. Reminders of the flash of sadness that would flicker in your gentle gaze every time that Azriel would rain-check your plans for Elain or talk about another female.

The look of disdain that Rhys had on his face the night he found him and Elain. The uncharacteristic cruelty that had been directed towards Azriel. The distance of the inner circle and his own shadows. Everyone had known. Everyone except for him. Did you know? Is that why you left? Why you had been ignoring him for months?

He tries to tug on the bond and he winces. The bond snaps back at him painfully like a rubber band that was held taught and released. Seems like even the bond itself is punishing Azriel. So you didn't know then?

You were still looking around with your senses on high alert and it seems like you weren't the only one that had noticed the blackout. Eris in all his horrendous glory had also been surveying the area and while you looked like started pray that was scanning for predator to jump out of the bushes and attack, Eris was every bit the predator scanning the area ready to pounce.

Azriel locked eyes with Eris. Eris' eyebrows raise, his eyes holding mischief and curiosity, a truly despicable combination. The conniving fox never stops his scheming and with a smirk he puts his hand on your lower back and leans to whisper something in your ear. All while maintaining eye contact with Azriel.

His rational side is long forgotten and he luges for Eris. Pupils dilated, teeth bared, and siphons glowing. Instead of landing on Eris, he landed on a barrier of shadows which drag him through the shadow realm like a parent dragging their misbehaving toddler by the arm into timeout.

The shadows drag him through the shadow realm, struggling to constrain him, and throw him onto the floor of the training ring in the house of wind. Rhysand and Cassian arrive on the scene moments later, amusement coating their features once they see the position that Azriel is in. Cassian bursts into a fit of laughter seeing Azriel shadows trying to hold him in place and watching him fight back against them, while swearing profusely.

Rhys saunters towards Azriel, "Well took you long enough brother. Release him." The shadows immediately release their hold of Azriel. The look he's giving Rhys is filled with so much malice that anyone other than Rhys would have shivered at his gaze.

Rhys is gives Azriel a predatory smile that is anything but friendly. Rhys says, "Now that you officially know I can finally do this", and he punches Azriel in the face. Rhys looks at Azriel while he's on the floor from the hit, "You want to be my brother again. Earn it. "

Azriel's nostrils flare and he comes swinging at Rhys with full force. Cassian is enjoying this a lot more than he should have and the house agrees spawning him popcorn on the table on the outskirts of the training ring. Between Azriel's vicious as a result of a new mating bond and Rhys' pent up anger for hundreds of years of pain you endured this was going to be a very entertaining fight.

-

There were very few things that brought Eris Vanserra true unadultered joy - his schemes, the suffering of his enemies, and apparently spending time with you. For these few months with you had been the first time he genuinely enjoyed someone's company. He was sad you were leaving, of course, but that was the whole point of your stay, you would process your mating bond and return when you had distanced yourself from it enough that being around Azriel wouldn't break you.

Eris had never wished for a mating bond. He has never been surrounded by happiness, let alone love, only pain, and would never wish that life upon another. To be tethered to Eris is to be tethered to a lifetime of cruelty and a lifetime of pain. He watched his mother suffer every day at the hands of his father, the only true happiness she experienced was in the presence of Eris or Lucien, whom she seldom sees anymore. He watched the love of Lucien's life be sentenced to death by his father.

Eris knows that when he becomes the high lord of Autumn that he will have a target on his back and is one day destined to meet a bloody end. How could he sentence someone to a fate like that? Every Vanserra's is a flame - burns brightly, hurts to the touch, and is destined to go out.

Now Eris does believe in love but he also believes in choice and he has chosen to keep his circle small and tight for as long as he could remember. His walls were impenetrable and he was very guarded, he wore cruelty as a mask and indifference as a cloak with wit being his sword. He had never needed anyone, he only needed himself. That's what he told himself when Lucien had told him he was leaving Autumn for Spring. That's what he told himself when he isolated himself for hundreds of years and that's what he told you when you guys had first met in the Autumn Court library.

You had been about 75 and were in the Autumn Court on a diplomatic visit with Rhys and your father. You had grown bored and decided to sneak off into the Autumn Court library in the middle of the night, unaware that anyone would be there. You had just waltzed in and started grabbing text after text that Eris was actually impressed and had remained silent for two hours until he decided enough was enough and it was time to bother you. You guys argued for hours, matching each other's wit in a way that Eris had never experienced, and he didn't admit it to anyone but he was looking forward to your next visit.

You guys had always corresponded after that. Remaining good friends and regularly sending each other updates, book recommendations, and even jokes. Eris realised that he missed you, a very uncommon feeling for the cold hearted fire wielder and was elated to receive an invite to the Night Court ball. He arrived elated to see you only to find you on the arm of the shadowsinger. He couldn't be upset though, because you ran to him excitedly and embraced him in a hug.

Eris refused to be second to anybody so he gave it up and accepted his role in your life. You value the people in your life greatly and he appreciates your friendship either way but it would be a lie to say it didn't pain him to hear about Azriel for so long.

Azriel had this amazing person pining after him and he couldn't even appreciate you enough to properly give you his attention. How he didn't know you had feelings for him, Eris couldn't figure out. He was the Spymaster of the Night Court and he couldn't even notice how your eyes lit up in his presence.

When you had written Eris in a panic calling in the favor you held over him for securing certain information about Beron, Eris knew it had something to do with that Cauldrons-damned shadowsinger and had left immediately. The minute he was in that room with you and him and the rest of the inner circle, he knew the mating bond had snapped for you and that Azriel was contemplating invoking a blood duel over Elain. A blood duel with his brother. Eris was furious.

Eris is still furious. The shadowsingers stupidity almost got his brother killed and maybe you, he believes you to be formidable, but a broken mating bond has catastrophic effects on fae. It was something he would never wish upon you. Eris would lie to everyone but himself and he knows that he has sent a prayer to the Mother at least once or twice or more times asking for you to be his mate because he knows that while he could never deserve you he would do everything in his power to try to be.

Eris is not a traditionalist by any means, how could he be when his father runs Autumn with an iron fist claiming that the old way is the best way especially when it comes to fae rights, but Eris does believe in the sanctity of a mating bond. If you and Azriel had tried it out and it didn't work then he would be free to make his move, but anytime before then he deems it unacceptable. He also feels the same for Elain and Lucien, which is another reason he didn't respect Azriel.

Eris would never openly sabotage your life like that. The number one thing he wishes for is your happiness and he sends a prayer to the Mother for that a lot more than he would care to admit. That doesn't mean that Eris can't at least mess with Azriel and make his life a living hell for the period before you get together. He did cause you to suffer for so long, it's only fair.

Eris does not consider himself to be a good person. He's selfish and downright evil at times, but he believes the Mother knows him at his soul and that one day when he is freed from the confines of his father the Mother will allow him to find happiness in either this life or the next. While he doesn't need a mating bond, he is tired and exhausted from being so lonely all the time. When everyone sees you as a villian, it's so hard to not become one and Eris is ready for some change.

But today was not the day for changing for the better. Which is what Eris tells himself as he meets Azriel's gaze in the Gardens of Velaris. Based on the dilated pupils and the overall feral look of the shadowsinger, Eris assumes that the mating bond has just snapped for him. Oh goody. This would be a real treat for Eris. A bit of payback if you will.

Eris raises a brow and maintains eye contact with the shadowsinger as he gets close to you and puts a hand on your lower back. He gives some sort of witty retort and you laugh. He continues to look at Azriel while all of this is happening, just to add to the torment. He sees Azriel lunge and then disappear in a cloud of shadow. Well looks like his shadows took care of that. He'll be back eventually and then Eris can do the same thing again.

Eris has already made peace with the fact that you were not his, but he had to make sure you had the best in his absence and if you were destined to be with this male Eris had to at least test him first. Consider it a hazing ritual or reparations for the way he treated you. Either way Azriel was going to make sure this male suffered until he shapes up and became the perfect mate because you deserve nothing less and if Azriel fails to do that then Eris would have no problem sweeping the rug from under him in his own Court.

Eris loves a challenge and he has grown very bored lately. He let Lucien in on this plan and Lucien had actually spoken about wanting to give Elain the opportunity to get to know him, now that Azriel's out of the picture, so the timing was working anyways. Worst case scenario the Night Court is in shambles which would sit back and enjoy anyways. Best case scenario you leave back with him to Autumn and never step foot in this court ever again and leave the shadowsinger forever. Either way he gets to spend time with you and torment Azriel.

He thinks Rhys agreed to this arrangement just because he also wants Azriel to suffer a little bit, after everything he's done.

Eris looks at you again, snapping you out of your search for Azriel. he goes, "I have a surprise for you." You look up at him, focusing on what he's saying, but still being half distracted by the idea of Azriel being near.

"You were saying how much you were going to miss me due to you leaving of Autumn and I have business in the Night Court, so guess who is going to be staying here for the foreseeable future?" Eris says all of this with the smug grin you have been accustomed to seeing him don.

Your face lights up and he continues. "Lulu is also going to be tagging along because he adores his charming older brother so much-" You roll your eyes at him. "Lucien did not say that."

Eris cuts you off by throwing his arm over your shoulder and leads you through the arches of the garden into the ball. "But he will once he sees the havoc we are going to wreak in Night." Eris gives you a mischievous grin and for once you actually give one back as you take your official steps back into your life in the Night Court.

part vii

-

note: This chapter was actually meant to be twice as long and this was the first part but I am about to get busy so I wont be writing for the next week or so and I wanted to get something out before I fall of the grid. I will be answering to asks though I do love receiving them and hearing what you guys think I just won't have that much time to write. The style of this chapter is a lot different from the rest so I do want to know what you guys think. I didn't think it was a good idea for the reader and Azriel to interact immediately after the bond snapped for him, he was just in such a high alert state that I don't think it would be a good idea until he's at least calm again(I know Rhys has been holding in that punch for hundreds of years). Until next time my lovelies!

note note: again pls ignore the lack of editing and the sleep deperivated state I wrote this in :)

taglist: @alimarie1105@chaosabroad@bbontenswhhore@tele86@ashblooddragons@circe143@i-am-infinite@princesssunderworld@thestartitaness@tiffany-xx@cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa@jennigsonl@ivy-34@firefly-forest@k-homosapien@coeurdeveea@cherryjain17@bckynatt@becstersworld@rcarbo1@gojospearlycim@atluky@juliebluehufflepuff@willowpains@abadfantasybook@neverendingstay@hellohauntedturnstudent@highladyofhogwarts@littowl@iluvyewman-blog@lunaticpotatoe @justlivinginadaydream @julesiebean @shylahstarzz @olive-main @lreadsstuff

[bucksangel]

sugar and cream

pairing: alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au pt. 4

word count: 10.6k (i’m sorry😭)

summary: The second thing you notice is the bench seat by the living room window having been cleared off, leaving only a few pillows and a variety of Bucky and Steve's clothes. You're drawn to it like a moth to a flame, the potent scent of your Alphas clinging to their shirts pulling you in until you can reach out and run your fingers over the red Henley on top. "We, um - We thought you could have a nest... here."

or - you finally mate with your Alphas.

warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! the amount of fluff in here is unbearable, this is also very smutty, threesome (mmf), knotting, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving and also kinda m receiving), cum swallowing, praise kink galore, consent is sexy, cockwarming, mentions of bonding, mentions of m/m sex, dirty talk, omegaverse, omega is shy and inexperienced, stucky are extremely careful and loving, a slight amount of angst (bucky is insecure about his arm/scars), basically everyone is nervous, switching povs

a/n: part 4 is finally here!!! i want to continue this au so if anyone has any suggestions as to what to write then lmk!! beta’d by the ever lovely @perdidosbucky-yyo and @fandoms-writings <3 and, as always, this is dedicated to my heart and soul: @buckysbarne

milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar | ao3

After days of not seeing your Alphas or having much contact with them, it sends a rush of adrenaline straight to your veins when Bucky texts you that they've finally made it home. Over the few months Bucky and Steve have been courting you, they've only gone on a handful of missions, and most only lasted a day or so with only one of them being gone, so you always had one of your Alphas by your side.

This is the first time they've both been gone for almost four days, and while that isn't that long in the grand scheme of things, you've been anxiously waiting for any communication from them that they're safe. And now that you know they are, you can't remember ever being so excited for something. You want to see them, to check them over and make sure their bruises and cuts are taken care of - even though you know they've already gone to the medical wing of the Tower to get everything taken care of.

It's also extremely nerve wracking because tonight is the night. The night you'll finally mate with Bucky and Steve and show them how much you love them with your body and soul. You haven't been with many Alphas, but you've watched a fair amount of porn with men that may or may not resemble yours in preparation for tonight. It was a little... embarrassing at first; you didn't even know what to search for. But the more videos you watch and accounts from other Omegas about their experiences with being with two Alphas you read, you'd like to think that you're ready.

Truthfully, you've been ready for tonight, even before they asked if you were. You've never wanted to give yourself over to anyone more than these men because you know they'll treat you right, they'll take care of you.

So, even though your skin is buzzing with anxiety, you don't dare and try to talk yourself out of grabbing your bags and jumping in your car. Your face almost hurts from how wide your smile is, the happiness at finally seeing your boys combined with tonight's events causing you to let out a little shriek. You can't contain your emotions right now, not that you want to, Steve and Bucky are very vocal about how they love that you've come out of your shell the longer you've been with them.

Just as you're parking, your phone dings with a text from your friend, Tori.

Have fun, be safe, and call me if you need me <3

Two seconds later, another text comes through.

And tell them that they better treat you right or else I'll come for them :)

Rolling your eyes, you quickly type back a response.

Thank you, babe. I'll let them know and call you if I need anything, ily <3

You don't bother waiting for a response before you grab your bags from the passenger seat and climb out of the car. You suppose you should feel anxious walking up their porch, but any and all worries immediately dissipate as soon as you reach the front door, to which it promptly swings open. Bucky is standing there, a wide smile stretched across his face, and a flush on his cheeks.

"Honey," He says, though it's more of a breathy whisper. His eyes sparkle, and you can't stop yourself from ducking your head and nervously giggling, making sure to hold your bag tight so as not to drop it. "Here, let me take that."

You hand him your overnight bags, to which he takes them in one hand and grabs your hand with his other to guide you into the house. It's decorated a little differently than how it looked when you were last here. The first thing you notice is the new large fluffy blanket folded and thrown over the back of the couch, enticing you to collapse onto it and wrap yourself in the fabric.

The second thing you notice is the bench seat by the living room window having been cleared off, leaving only a few pillows and a variety of Bucky and Steve's clothes. You're drawn to it like a moth to a flame, the potent scent of your Alphas clinging to their shirts pulling you in until you can reach out and run your fingers over the red Henley on top.

"We, um - We thought you could have a nest... here." Bucky's nervous voice makes you turn your head to look at him. Steve has come to stand beside him, lacing his fingers through his mates', and smiles at you with such fondness that it makes you want to drag them to their room right then.

-

"We thought you could have a nest... here." Saying it out loud is a little scary, but Bucky and Steve want you to know that you're welcome here, that they want you here any time you want to be here - which they can only hope is all the time.

And Bucky feels like he's floating on clouds when you smile at them, then take the Henley and bring it up to your nose. Your sweetened scent permeates the living room, and Bucky thinks he can make out the hint of a grin behind his shirt.

"Thank you, Alphas," You say when you lay the shirt back down, and Bucky is suddenly pulled back down to earth the closer you walk toward them, placing one of your hands on his cheek and grabbing Steve's hand with your other. "I - I'd love that."

If it weren't for the flush on your cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes, Bucky would've thought your micro stutter meant the opposite of what you said. But, as it is, he can't find it in himself to doubt you when you step up onto your tiptoes and place a lingering and loving kiss on his lips. And, after days of not seeing you, Bucky feels like he can finally relax and let out a big sigh of relief at knowing that he's surrounded by both of his loves.

Bucky's been on edge for the entire mission - not like Steve fared much better; they were both worried about not being able to keep contact with you. They absolutely know you can take care of yourself, but after months of doting on you and having you love them in return, they got used to it. Even if you didn't see each other every day, they never went long without texting or calling you, so it made both his and Steve's skin crawl at the circumstances.

But now they're back, and both men know that you are what makes their small brownstone a home, which is why they were even more excited to return.

Your kiss grounds him, the glide of your lips against his causing him to sigh into your mouth, and he can't stop himself from licking and then nipping at your bottom lip, desperate to hear that little squeak you let you whenever they give you things or do something that you like.

You'd all kissed before, including a few heavy petting sessions, but nothing further. They respect your boundaries and comfortability, and they'd hate themselves if they were the ones to hurt you like that. But, at their core, they're Alphas, and neither man can deny the rush of adrenaline whenever they're able to bring you even the smallest amount of pleasure.

The kiss comes to an end far too soon for Bucky's liking, but there's something inside him that loves seeing you and Steve together, so he pulls back, trying desperately to not feel bad when you whine and chase his lips.

"Why don't you give ol' Stevie a kiss too," Bucky murmurs against your mouth, smiling slightly when you suck in a breath and nod, your eyes glazing over a little. The look is mesmerizing, and he's anxious to see just how sweet you'll be for them.

When Bucky looks over to his Alpha, he sees the poorly disguised eagerness written all over his face, his puppy dog eyes shining. The brunette cups the back of your head, then disentangles his hand from Steve's so he can do the same to him, then guides your heads closer to each other until your lips are touching.

The kiss is easy and light, a few simple pecks, until they're both surprised by your boldness when you press your body into his and angle your head so that Steve is able to kiss you properly. He can see a peek of tongue slowly prompting you to open your mouth, then licking into it.

And Bucky can tell neither of you know, but your combined scents of arousal are emanating throughout the room and probably filling the entire house. He can feel his cock filling up in his jeans, twitching to life the longer the show goes on until he can't ignore it anymore, having to secretly reach down and grab his crotch to relieve the ache. Even without your mixed scents, he knows both of you are feeling it too by the little whines and gasps.

They'd planned on taking time to settle you into their house, take you on a tour of the rooms you hadn't seen before, maybe let you set up your nest by the window. But he doesn't want to wait; he's too nervous in the best way possible to worship you.

So, he saddles up behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist and resting it on your stomach, then places his other hand on Steve's waist. His movements knock both of you out of your trance, both of you pulling back with gasps and reddened lips, a bright blush covering Steve's cheeks.

"Sorry," Steve says breathlessly, chuckling a little when he realizes he got a little lost in the kiss.

"Don't be, Alpha," Bucky responds, leaning over your shoulder to peck Steve's lips. You whine at the sight, subconsciously squirming between their bodies.

"Alphas." Both Alphas groan, looking down at you with hooded eyes. "I - I'm..."

"Yes?" Steve asks when you don't continue, smiling when you nervously chuckle.

"I'm ready."

-

"I'm ready." You mean it with everything you have; you're ready to make love with them, to join your bodies, and show them that you trust them, that you love them.

Steve curses softly, gripping your hips as though he's restraining himself from throwing you over his shoulder. He doesn't; he actually puts one arm around your waist and loops his other arm under your knees and swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal-style and smirking when you squeak.

No one says anything while you all head toward their room, a place you've never been. It makes you nervous, but you know without a doubt that you want this, you want to push through those nerves because you're even more anxious to really be with them.

Steve sets you down on your feet when they reach the end of their bed, letting you get a good look at how they live. Their room is spacious; a large bed with multiple pillows, a window with another bench seat, and a bookshelf that you just know is filled with Bucky's fantasy novels. You're smiling as you turn to look at everything, but your smile grows when you see more of their clothes on the lounge chair in the corner.

"We figured you could make a nest in our bed," Steve says nervously, and even without looking at him, you know he's shuffling in place, aching to reach out for you. "We want you to be comfortable here."

You can't seem to find any words to describe how happy you are right now, joy filling your body when you think about being surrounded by not only their scent, but their bodies too. It takes no time at all to walk over to the chair and look over the clothes, noticing shirts and sweaters and even a few boxers, causing heat to rise through your body and up to your face.

You don't even need to think about it, grabbing everything in the pile and carrying them over to the bed. The smile on your face is prominent with each article of clothing you place over the plush sheets, forming a semi-circle and fluffing it up until you're satisfied. Looking back to your Alphas, your eyes shine with a need to be praised, to be told that you did a good job, and that your boys are proud of you for your arrangement.

They do so very quickly.

"It's beautiful, honey," Steve says, not taking his eyes off of you.

"It's perfect, Omega," Bucky says next, reaching out his hand and beckoning you forward.

You go easily, walking toward them until you're once again sandwiched between them.

"You're really ready?" Bucky asks, caressing your sides and carefully slipping one of his hands under your shirt.

"Y-Yes." God, you're more than ready. But knowing that you're not as experienced as they are makes you question how tonight is going to go. However, they've always been careful with you, so you're at least comfortable knowing that they won't hurt you.

"We're going to go slow, okay?" Bucky asks, and you let out a small sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding.

"If we do anything you don't like, please tell us," Steve adds, cupping the back of your neck with a large hand. Guiding your head up to look at him, the seriousness in his gaze feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. The fact that they're so adamant about pleasuring you sends shivers down your spine.

"Yes, Alpha."

"We'll start with you telling us what you like," Bucky whispers in your ear, just loud enough for everyone to hear, but not so loud to disrupt the moment.

"Oh." Truthfully, you don't really know what you like. You haven't been with many Alphas, so you're not sure what you enjoy when having sex with one, but you have a general understanding as to what you like when you spend some time with yourself. "Well, I - uh. I don't really know, I haven't... been with that many people, so I don't really know. But, I... I like kissing. And I like touching."

"God, you're sweet," Bucky murmurs, kissing your cheek.

-

"God, you're sweet."

It's true, oh Lord, is it true. When Steve leans down to kiss you, he already knows what he wants to do. And since he and Bucky have talked about this in length, he knows Bucky is on the same page. They both know you're fairly inexperienced, so they figured you may not know exactly what you prefer with other people, but they both know they'll spend all night - hell, all weekend, exploring your body and getting to find out what makes you moan before they even think about their own pleasure.

"How about," Steve cut himself off with a groan poorly disguised as a clear of the throat. "How about we get naked first and get in bed. Is that okay?"

"Yes," You say quickly, leaning up and kissing Steve again. "I - I want that."

"Good," Bucky says, kissing the back of your neck and toying with the hem of your shirt. "We're going to undress you first."

Steve and Bucky talked about it, and came to a mutual decision to direct you through the night's events, telling you what they're going to do so they don't scare you. It also helps them and their primal Alpha urges to take care of you, to settle them into the mindset of giving you as much euphoria as they can without getting lost in their own heads.

Bucky and Steve kiss all over your face and neck, soft presses of lips against smooth skin, occasionally nipping and biting and licking. They pointedly ignore your scent gland, wanting to not only tease you a little, but also not put pressure on you with the idea of their marks. While they love to think about you being theirs forever, they want you to make the decision on if and when it will happen.

They're slow and methodical in taking off your shirt, Bucky working on your pants while Steve's brain short circuits at the sight of your covered breasts rising and falling rapidly with each passing second that their hands caress your body. When his Alpha chuckles, he's knocked out of his trance, kneeling down and steadying your legs to help you step out of your jeans.

Then, you're standing in their room covered only by your bra and underwear. Steve can smell your arousal even more here, the scent of your wetness making his head spin and lean into it. He stops himself before he gets too close, though, not wanting to move too fast. Looking up at you, he runs his hands up and down your thighs, very much enjoying the sight of his mate's hands exploring your torso, stopping to cup your clothed breast.

"Oh!" Your back arches, pressing into Bucky's touch. Steve sees his boyfriend smile against your neck, takes great joy in your little whines, and the way your hips buck up when Steve tugs at the band of your panties.

"Can we take these off, honey?"

"Please." Your begging causes the base of Steve's cock to throb, his knot already pleading to lock inside you.

You stand in place as Bucky works to remove your bra while Steve drags your underwear down your legs, and when he removes them entirely, he's captivated by the sight of how wet and ruined they are. The need to smell them is strong, but he manages to push aside the urge so that he can place his hands on your waist and look up at your face. Your pleasure is evident, but so is your hesitance.

Steve knows it probably shouldn't, but your inexperience turns him on even more than you already do, and he's determined to get you through it to the other side.

"Do you want to lay down, Omega?" Bucky asks, running his hands up and down your arms in a soothing manner.

"O-Okay." Your voice is breathy, already melting into their arms despite the lingering anxiety.

Steve stands, and both men guide you to the bed, a low growl bubbling up in Bucky's throat when you lay down, your legs out straight and spread slightly. They can both hear how fast your heart is racing, they both see the rapid rising and falling of your chest, and they can both smell how absolutely soaked you are.

"She's so beautiful, isn't she Stevie?" Bucky's voice is breathless, like he can't believe his luck at seeing you like this. Steve understands, because he's feeling quite the same. He's so eager to be with you but even more resolved to make this as pleasurable for you as possible, so slow and steady it is.

"She really is, Buck." They're about to crawl onto the bed, but stop when you whine softly and squirm.

"What's wrong, Omega?" Steve's brow furrows, looking over at his Alpha, who appears to be equally concerned.

"Can... Um. Can I... see you too?" Your voice is so small, so timid. The way you fiddle with one of their shirts by your head lets Steve know you probably want to reach out for them, and Steve would never deny you anything you ask for.

"Of course," Steve says, nodding. When he takes off his shirt, he sees your eyes widen, and smiles to himself when you shut your legs together tightly. The hunger in your eyes is evident, but there's also nervousness. "How about we still keep our boxers on for now, and we can finish getting undressed later?"

"O-Okay." Steve smiles at your response, and then looks over to his mate who - oh. Fear is etched across his face, and it suddenly clicks in Steve's brain.

Bucky's arm. While the scars have never deterred Steve from loving and worshiping Bucky the way he deserves, he knows his Alpha is still self conscious about it around other people. He's grown more confident with his body as time passes, but Steve knows Bucky is terrified of you seeing the marred skin on his shoulder.

"Alpha?" Your soft voice says, and you slowly sit up and look at Bucky expectantly.

-

"Alpha?"

Bucky kind of wants to vomit. He's been so excited for tonight, so eager to finally show you how much love they can give you, that he completely forgot that he would have to be naked too. He knows Steve doesn't mind his arm or scars, has told and shown him countless times that he's loved and desired, but it's different with you.

After all Bucky has been through, he never thought he'd get so lucky as to reunite with Steve, to be with him and love him openly in a way he never allowed himself to dream of back in the forties when being gay was a death sentence and two Alpha's mating was so unheard of it that it was laughable. And now that he can, he feels like he can truly be himself, like he can be, dare he say it, happy.

And then you came along. You, with your sweet voice that invades his dreams and makes him wake up aching to call you. You, with your tender touch that feels like a shot of dopamine straight into his veins any time your fingers so much as brush his arm. You, with your kind heart that has shown him so much love and patience, one would think you were a saint.

You've allowed him to explore parts of himself that he never knew existed; you've shown him how gentle he can be, that he's more than what he's made himself out to be. So, knowing all of this about you, Bucky doesn't think it should be so scary to reveal his torso to you. He knows that even if you did think the scars were ugly, you wouldn't visibly react.

But that's the thing. What if you do think his scars are ugly? Tony gave him some fancy medical cream he can't remember the name of to help make them not so red and angry all the time, but it's still not pretty. And the last thing Bucky wants is for you to look at him and realize you're too good for an Alpha like him.

No. He thinks harshly, chewing on his bottom lip, heat rising to his face as he tries to calm his racing heart. She loves me. I am enough. I can do this.

"Bucky?" Your sweet voice travels up to his ears, forcing his gaze to meet yours. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, of - of course - yeah." He knows he's okay, he knows he's safe with you and Steve, but when he finally pulls his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor, he can't meet your eyes, too afraid of what he'll find if he does.

He hears the bed squeak when he doesn't move, and he's so focused on trying to breathe properly that he nearly jumps when he feels Steve's hand land on his flesh shoulder.

"Bucky," You call again, soft as ever, and he can see out of the corner of his eyes that you're now kneeling at the end of the bed, reaching out to touch his chest. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I can put my shirt on if you want," Is what he blurts out, rushed, trying to assure you that he'll do whatever he needs to make you comfortable.

"Why would I want that? I love looking at you." There's a pain in Bucky's heart because you sound genuinely hurt and confused, wondering why he would ever think such a thing. "You're beautiful, Alpha."

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, then, with no small amount of apprehension, turns to face you.

"It's just... I know you probably don't want to see my... my scars, and I know they're ugly, so it -" Bucky's cut off by your lips pressing against his, and he feels his body relax even more.

"Do you want to know what I think of your scars?" You ask when you pull back, and Bucky doesn't really know if he wants to or not. But there's no malice in your tone, no disgust in your eyes, only love. So, despite his better judgment, he nods slowly.

"I think they're a symbol of resolve. You've been through so much, far too much. And they might remind you of all that you were forced to do, but not for me. They're proof to me that you withheld their torment and came out on the other side. They're proof of how strong and capable you are. I don't care if they aren't aesthetically pleasing, they're apart of you, whether you like it or not. And I love you. All of you. And that includes your arm."

Bucky is so focused on you that he doesn't realize he's crying; the tears on his cheeks don't register in his mind because he's too captivated by the sight of your fingers delicately running along the biggest mark on his shoulder. Then, you're leaning forward, placing a few short and sweet kisses along the seam where metal meets flesh, and Bucky won't even deny that the whimper he lets out is downright pitiful. But he can't help it; he doesn't want to ever go without you and your compassion.

"I love you too," Bucky whispers, leaning into your touch. "You... You're sure you don't mind?"

"Baby," You murmur, cupping his cheek in one palm and holding onto his shoulder with the other. "If it would make you feel more comfortable to wear a shirt, then I won't force you not to wear one, but I want to see you, all of you. I don't care if you don't think you're perfect because you're perfect to me. Me and Stevie. You're perfect for us."

If Bucky believed in a God, he'd be thanking them right now, would be on his knees wondering what he ever did to deserve you, but is so grateful that he must have done something right because here you are, in all your glory. Naked and baring your heart and soul to them.

Bucky wants to ravage you. He wants to worship you.

He's going to.

With a resolute nod, he covers your hand - the one on his cheek - and moves it so he can kiss your palm, once, twice, then a final time before he looks over at Steve. His mate has tears in his own eyes, and he's honestly surprised Steve isn't bawling right now, always so emotional.

"Lay back, Omega." Bucky's voice is hoarse, thick with emotion and desire.

And, because you're so sweet, you lay back easily, wiggling until you're laying comfortably with your legs out and spread a little, and your arms resting on the pillow above you. The picture you paint is better than anything in the MoMA. He could write soliloquies about how beautiful you are when you look at him with half-lidded eyes and slightly kiss-swollen lips. You're completely relaxed, and Bucky takes a few seconds to breathe in your scent and cement in his brain that you want him.

"Okay," Bucky whispers, mostly to himself, and gathers the courage to unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper. Looking to you, he waits for your little nod before he actually tugs the garment down, and then turns his head to see Steve doing the same. They're both slow, not wanting to ruin the moment. They've got nowhere to be except here with you.

Once both Alphas' pants are discarded, Steve steps towards Bucky and gives him an encouraging kiss, letting him know that they're in this together. It gives Bucky the reassurance that Steve is on the same page as him, is with him 'til the end of the line.

When they break away, they share a knowing glance. This is a big step for not just you, but for them. They've been together their whole lives; they know each other intimately in ways no one else ever will, and so to allow someone else into their dynamic was a big adjustment.

It's one they're happy to make for you.

"Can we come into your nest, Omega?"

-

"Can we come into your nest, Omega?"

You're not sure why, but there's a pang in your chest at the question. This is their bed you're laying in, these are their clothes you're surrounded by, but to them, it's your nest. They've already given you so much without expecting or asking for anything in return, and now they're giving you this; a safe space outside of your apartment where no one can hurt you, where even they still ask for permission to enter.

"Yes." It's the fastest and easiest response you've ever given, and you can't stop the smile from etching across your face as they crawl up the bed so that they can both lay on either side of you, propping themselves up on an elbow so they can stare down at you.

Now you're really trapped between them, both Alphas' eyes roaming over your body as though they can't believe you're real. Despite the close quarters, your 'fight or flight' senses don't kick in; you know in your soul that you're protected. And that thought alone makes your inner Omega force a submissive whine slip out of your mouth.

"Can I touch you, honey?" Steve asks, letting his hand hover over your stomach as though he's aching to feel you but won't do so without your permission.

"Please, Alpha." You're not sure which of your Alphas produces the deep growl that echoes through the room; perhaps it's both of them; all you know is that as soon as Steve's hand makes contact with your skin, your body is lit aflame. He runs his fingers over to your side, gliding his palm up until he's just barely touching your breast.

Suddenly, Bucky has let his hand rest on your neck - not nearly enough to choke you, just to guide your attention to his.

"Can I kiss you?"

You're not at all embarrassed at the speed at which you surge forward to kiss Bucky; just a few touches and sweet words and you're already putty for them. This time, you can feel the groan vibrating through the Blonde Alpha's chest, and your hand instinctively searches for him, finding purchase by threading your fingers through his hair. You can feel his eyes never wavering from your face, and it makes you burn hotter, makes you squirm because you're not sure what to do about the almost unbearable ache between your legs.

The kiss starts out soft, merely a gentle glide of lips caressing each other. It isn't until one of Steve's massive hands fully encompasses one of your breasts that Bucky's tongue has the opportunity to slip into your mouth - dropped open due to a gasp.

Lips press against your neck, soft sighs mixed in with little nips as Steve breathes in your scent. You're pretty sure it's involuntary, but you feel the hard bulge in Steve's boxers grind against your leg a few times before he seems to come to his senses and stop his movements.

"Sorry, 'mega," Steve breathes out against your skin, tugging at your nipple at the same time Bucky moves his hand down to your stomach. They work in tandem to get you worked up, and you're sure both of them can smell how wet you are.

It's when Bucky's hand reaches the top of one of your thighs that you part your legs as wide as you can with both Alphas surrounding you.

"Can I touch your pussy?" Bucky asks, pulling back from your lips just enough to be heard. He's breathing hard, almost as though he is the one that's about to combust from pleasure.

"Y-Yes, Alpha." It's been so long since you've had someone else touch you like this, and despite being nervous, you want to push through it. You want to join your bodies with them, give them anything they desire.

And even though you're aching and desperate, Bucky doesn't move fast towards where you want him most. He takes his time trailing his fingers to the inside of your thigh, then grips it in his large palm and drapes your leg over his to open you up even further. The cold air hitting your exposed pussy sends shivers down your spine, and Steve covers your mouth with his own to swallow your high-pitched whine.

"Don't worry, honey," Bucky coos in your ear, nipping your lobe. "We'll take care of you."

Pulling away from Steve and looking over at your other Alpha, you smirk a little. "You better," you tease, reaching up and carding your fingers through his hair, relishing in the quiet groan he lets out. "Because Tori wanted me to tell you that she'll hurt you if you don't."

Both Alphas laugh, nodding along.

"Well, we'll reassure her later that we did everything we could to cherish you the way you deserve," Steve says, kissing your cheek. "Right now, though, we have a job to do."

"And that's to prove to you that we can give you everything you need and want," Bucky finishes for him, sliding his hand to cover your dripping core and smiling deviously when you moan and buck your hips up into it.

"I know you will," You say. And you mean it; you mean it with everything you have. You know in your heart and soul that only they can provide for you. Looking between your best guys, you give them the softest smile. "I know."

Both men curse under their breaths, and Bucky looks down at you with that look in his eyes he only gives you and Steve.

"Can I play with your clit?" His voice is gruff, and it's clear he's holding himself back from absolutely ravishing you. It sends a surge of love straight to your heart and causes more slick to pour out of your quivering hole.

"Please."

Bucky nods, and Steve leans down to encompass your nipple, the one that he's not tugging at while your other Alpha taps your clit a few times. He circles it a few times, pressing down and smirking when you once again push your hips up.

"You're so beautiful like this, do you know that?"

It's an automatic reaction to shake your head in denial of his comment. You want to believe that it's true so badly, but sometimes you still have trouble accepting their compliments. It just doesn't seem real that these two Gods see you as beautiful as they say you are, but part of you likes to think that just makes their opinions that much more real. If these gorgeous Alphas think your appearance captivates them just as much as your heart, then you're hoping you're going to believe them one day.

"You are," Steve growls against your skin, and the sound reverberates through your chest. The sternness in his tone makes you whine, but also causes tears to prick your eyes.

"Say it," Bucky demands, rolling your clit between his fingers. "Tell us what Stevie and I already know." When you don't say anything, he continues. "Tell us you're beautiful; tell us that we're lucky to have you, and I'll slip my finger in that cute little hole."

You want his finger so bad, you want it to fill you completely and get you ready for them, but your emotions get caught in your throat. It's so difficult to say what they want you to say, but when Steve lets his teeth graze your breast and Bucky circles your hole teasingly, you know you'll say or do anything they ask of you as long as they continue to play with your body like this.

"I..." Bucky raises his eyebrow, then softens his expression, and leans down to kiss your forehead. With a deep breath, you look up at him. "I'm beautiful."

"And?" Steve says, releasing your breast and causing you to tremble when the cold air hits your exposed and wet nipple.

"You - You're... You're lucky to - to have me."

"Damn right we are," Both of your men say at the same time, and you'd laugh at their synchronicity if it weren't for Bucky's finger pressing against your opening.

You're wet enough that it doesn't feel that uncomfortable when the very tip of his finger dips in, but your body involuntarily tenses when he tries pushing in deeper.

"It's okay, honey," Bucky coos, and Steve cups your cheek to guide your attention to him.

"Just relax, Omega," He says, kissing your lips briefly. "It's okay, we won't do anything you don't want."

"But..." You trail off, heat creeping up to your face. "I - I really do want it. Just... Just go slow, okay?"

"Of course," Bucky says, Steve nodding in agreement, and the hunger in his eyes doesn't put you off. It actually emboldens you and further cements in your brain that they crave you the way they claim to. "We'll go as slow as you want, sweet girl. We don't have anywhere to be except right here with you."

"We won't even think about our own pleasure until you're completely satisfied," Steve adds, and that alone makes you want to cry.

How did you get so lucky?

"We told you, we are the lucky ones." Bucky's comment makes the heat in your cheeks flare up because you realize you said that out loud.

"So am I, though - oh!" You get cut off when Bucky manages to push his finger in even more until it's halfway inside. "I - I love you, and you love me, and it just - oh God."

Steve doesn't let you finish your sentence because he quickly pecks your lips, and you let his tongue invade your mouth when it asks for entrance by running along your bottom lip.

"We're supposed to praising you, Omega," You hear Bucky say, wiggling the finger inside you. You can't see him, but you're sure he's staring down at your entrance, no doubt aching to feel you fluttering around his cock.

The thought makes you clench down onto his finger, but then immediately relax your body to allow him to push all the way in. It stings, and you kind of wish you prepped yourself a little before coming over, but another part of you loves that they're the ones doing it, that they're more than willing to do the work.

Bucky wiggles his finger again, letting you get used to the feeling. Other than that, he doesn't move his hand, not until you break your kiss with Steve and nod at him.

"You - You can move."

He's slow as he pulls his hand back, though he doesn't allow himself to fully pull out. He gives you time to take a few deep breaths, then pushes back in, repeating the motion leisurely for a while until you're moaning and nodding again.

"Can you... give me another?" His fingers are big, one of them being thicker than two of your own, so you're sure it's going to be a little painful, but you're ready for it. Ready for them.

"Of course, honey." This time, he does pull out of your hole, tracing two of them around your entrance and smiling when you whine pathetically. "Just breathe, okay?"

"Yes, Alpha."

-

"Yes, Alpha."

Bucky wants to combust, is going to implode with how much love he has for you. When you call him 'Alpha', it does things to him. It sends the primal part of his brain into overdrive, making him want to wrap you in his arms and give you the world.

Your body melts into the bed, and he manages to push two thick fingers into your core, stopping as soon as you hiss softly.

"It's okay, honey," Steve whispers into your ear, running his own hand down until he can press down against your clit. "His fingers are big, aren't they?"

"Uh huh," You mumble, wiggling your hips and taking steadying breaths. "So big."

Now, Steve knows from personal experience how big Bucky is, his cock and fingers included. And he knows that Steve can take it - oh boy can he take it, but Bucky knows he needs to be careful with you, no matter how strong his urge to simply take you is.

Steve continues to rub and play with your clit, allowing you to relax your core until Bucky can slip his fingers in further. It takes a little longer to fit both of them fully inside you, having to spread his fingers and go slow as he opens you up so that he's able to press in all the way. The fluttering of your hole makes his cock throb, eager to feel it around his cock, but wants to take his time so that you can actually enjoy it.

"Alright, Omega," Bucky breathes out, having to close his eyes and will himself to pull his fingers out. "Can you take another?"

"Yes!" Your enthusiastic consent forces a rumble from his chest, making that Alpha growl that he knows you like.

"Okay, don't fret, honey," Bucky coos, leaning down and giving you a nearly filthy kiss before pulling back. "Now, this may hurt. Just remember to breathe and relax."

He waits for you to nod before he presses the tips of three fingers against your hole. He goes even slower when opening you up this time, and he doesn't mind that it takes longer to be able to finger you properly. It seems like it takes a lifetime for him to be able to move faster, but he doesn't mind, not in the slightest. He's willing to age twenty years until you're truly ready. The glazed over look in your eyes makes him want to cry with how absolutely sweet you are, your scent of arousal filling his nostrils as he inhales deeply.

"Can I ask you something?" Bucky asks, and he wasn't planning on it, but when he pulls his hand away and looks at his glistening fingers, he knows he needs to taste you.

"What is it?"

"Have you ever had your pretty pussy eaten out?"

“Oh.” Your eyes go wide and your hips involuntarily wiggle. “Um, no - no one’s ever… done that.”

“Can I be your first?” Bucky is practically salivating at the thought of burying his face between your legs, and he can feel his knot throb as he imagines the moans you’ll make.

“Oh, oh - um. Yes, you can... do that.” You sound caught off guard, and for a moment Bucky thinks you might be complying simply because he asked, but then you thrust your hips upwards and whine  “Please.”

Bucky can’t help the cheshire-like grin that envelops itself across his face, and he quickly nods, then looks at Steve.

“How about you get behind her and sit her on your lap; it’ll be easier that way.”

His mate nods eagerly, and they both look to you for your consent, which you give them with a nod of your own. They both lean back; Bucky helping you sit up so that Steve can shuffle to sit behind you. Bucky lets you scoot back so you can settle against Steve’s chest, and Bucky just can’t stop himself from staring at you both for a few moments. You’re just so beautiful, and seeing Steve’s hands holding your waist makes him desperate to watch you two make love.

But first, he has a job to do.

Bucky maneuvers his body so he can lay on his stomach between your legs, and he takes one of your calves in his hands. Slowly, he trails kisses from your ankle up to the inside of your thigh, then lifts it so he can lay it over Steve’s leg. He does the same with your other leg, though this time he gives you a few nibbles, which he licks after to soothe the mild sting.

Once both of your legs are spread, your glistening pussy is on full display, and Bucky doesn’t even want to stop the groan he lets out, he needs to let you know that he’s enjoying this almost as much as you are.

Leaning forward, he inhales your scent where it’s strongest, and he moans even louder, unable not to spread your lower lips to fully view your most intimate parts. Looking up at you, he gives you a gentle smile, then delicately kisses your clit.

“If you want me to stop, just let me know.” At your nod, and a smile of your own, he dives in further, flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit several times and relishing in your shocked gasp.

Flattening his tongue, he licks a long stripe from your leaking hole back up to your clit, then wraps his lips around it and suckles, giving you time to adjust to the feeling. But soon enough, his hunger overtakes him, and he dips his tongue into your loosened hole, sticking it in as far as he can so he can drink down your essence. He keeps his eyes on your euphoric expressions, watching carefully to find out which of his actions makes you tremble the most. And you seem to be more than okay with what he’s doing, especially when he licks back up to your clit and teases your entrance with the tips of two fingers.

“Oh! Alpha, yes!”

Your begging sends shivers down Bucky’s spine, and he groans into your pussy, taking mercy on you and fitting them inside you. He continues to lick and suck your clit while simultaneously picking up the speed at which he fingers you, though he’s careful not to overwhelm you. He watches as Steve covers one of your hands with his own and threads your fingers together, then guides your other hand to grip Bucky’s hair.

“Does she taste as good as we thought?” Steve asks, his voice gruff.

“So much better,” Bucky says, leaning back just enough to be heard. His admission must have done something to you because you thrust your hips against his face and whine, high-pitched and loud.

Bucky might actually die; he feels as though he is dead, has passed over into the afterlife, and is now on his way to heaven. The way you grind your hips against his face makes his cock throb, makes him want to hump against the bed to relieve the ache - he won't, though, because he knows he'll cum too soon if he does.

“Buck,” Steve says some time later, out of breath as though he was the one who couldn’t breathe because he was devouring you.

“What, punk?” Bucky asks, pulling away and practically glaring at him, annoyed that he was stopped when you were on your way to release.

“Are you gonna let me have a taste too?”

“So needy,” He chuckles, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smirk at the same time he rolls his eyes.

Bucky surges up, ignoring your whine as he leans over your body so he can immediately lick into Steve’s mouth. Your slick covers Bucky’s chin, and once your taste is almost gone from his mouth, Steve starts cleaning his Alpha’s face with his tongue, groaning deeply.

“You were right, jerk,” Steve says when he’s done, then turns to find you’ve been watching them. He pecks your lips, then smirks at you. “You’re delicious.”

“Alphas, please!”

“Please what, honey?” Bucky teases, taking your hand out of his hair and kissing your palm. “What do you want?”

“I…” You pause, chewing on your lip in a nervous gesture. “I want you… inside me.”

Both Alphas curse, and the men share a look before turning back to you.

“Both of us won’t fuck you tonight,” Bucky starts, cutting off your disappointed whine with a brief kiss. “We don’t want to overwhelm you. So, we’ll let you choose.”

“Oh.” You look conflicted, eyes flicking between both men as though it’s an impossible choice to make. And after a while, Steve kisses your temple, rubbing your sides.

“How about Bucky takes you first? And then we can work up to both of us later.” Steve’s offer seems to please you, and you turn to look at him over his shoulder.

“Are you sure, Stevie?”

“I’m sure,” Steve assures, bringing up your joined hands and kissing your knuckles. “As a matter of fact, I want to watch you two. I can take care of myself, okay?”

“O-Okay.”

“Okay, honey. We’re going to take off our boxers now,” Bucky says, and both of them carefully extract themselves from your body so they can stand next to the bed. Both of them take a deep breath, keeping their eyes on you while they peel off their underwear and let them fall to the floor.

“That’s not going to fit.” Your blunt statement makes them both laugh a little, and Bucky shakes his head.

“We’ll make it fit, Omega. But…” Bucky trails off, glancing at Steve and seeing his reassuring smile. “How about you just sit on it for a little bit? It will get you used to the feeling.”

You squirm in place, your hands twisting in the bed sheets you're laying on as you contemplate the offer. Finally, you nod, sitting up and shuffling around so Bucky can sit on the bed with his back leaning against the head board. They both help you straddle Bucky's lap, kneeling above him as he holds your hips. He hisses when Steve grabs the base of his sensitive cock, relishing in the grip as his mate positions the tip at your entrance.

"Are you ready, honey?" Bucky asks, looking up at you. He can hear how fast your heart is beating, can practically feel you vibrating in place with anxiety. He's not sure if it's good or bad, and you have a hesitant look on your face, but you nod anyway, leaning down to quickly kiss him.

"Yeah, just..." You trail off, chewing on your lower lip briefly. "Go slow?"

"Of course, honey," Bucky assures, squeezing your sides affectionately.

"We've got all night," Steve adds, pressing a kiss to your temple. "If you want to stop or take a break, just let us know. There's no need to rush, okay? We'll take this at your pace."

"Okay," You say, taking a deep breath. "I trust you both."

You have no idea what that simple sentence does to Bucky. You trust him? Him? Bucky Barnes? The Winter Soldier? He understands Steve; he's Captain Fucking America; of course, he can be trusted to protect you. But sometimes it's still wild to Bucky that you trust him to do that as well.

It's something he'll never take for granted.

-

"I trust you both."

You mean it when you say it. You trust your Alphas with your life, taking solace in the fact that they'll care for and covet you, so you're not worried about that. It's just... You've never felt like this towards anyone; you don't think you'll ever feel so much love and adoration for another man, not that you want to. You fully intend on bonding with them and marrying them, creating a future together filled with happiness and joy. In fact, you're not actually sure what you'd do if you didn't spend the rest of your life with them.

You refuse to find out.

They're careful when helping you sit, Steve keeping his hold on Bucky's knot while snaking his other hand down your front to your pussy. Spreading your lower lips, you shiver at the touch, anticipation building in your core and heart as they remind you to take deep breaths.

It's been a long, long time since you've had sex, so the initial sting isn't surprising. What is surprising, however, is how quickly the pain dulls, fading away to pleasure. Steve's finger lightly toying with your clit also helps, forcing more slick to drip from your hole and practically soak Bucky's cock. Despite feeling like he's already deep in your stomach, you look down and find that he's only about halfway inside you, and you continue taking deep breaths.

It takes a few minutes for you to feel ready enough to sit down all the way; loud moans and whines fill the room. It's overwhelming in the best possible way - Bucky rubbing your waist to soothe you while Steve continues flicking your clit.

"Fuck." Even you are shocked at your exclamation, you rarely curse; it's just not in your nature. But it's the only thing that comes to mind, and your internal filter is practically nonexistent at this point. Your head is filled with thoughts of how much you love your Alphas, how much you crave them, and how you know you're immediately addicted to his cock. You won't take Steve tonight, but you're sure you'll become obsessed with his too.

It's just too good. Feeling Bucky's cock pulsing in your pussy sends shivers down your spine, electricity thrumming throughout your body and causing fuzziness in your mind.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, continuing to rub your nub and moving his hand from Bucky's cock to your breast, softly tugging and tweaking your nipple.

"Better," You say breathlessly, turning your head to look at him. "So much better than okay."

"Good. That's good, Omega," Bucky grits out, and you will applaud him later for his strength and willpower to not immediately fuck you. You know you're tight, squeezing his member as though you never want to let him leave your body - which, to be fair, you don't. You'd live happily for the rest of your life like this, surrounding and filled with your best guys.

"Are you okay, Buck?" Steve teases, and you smile a little at the smirk he gives the other man. "How does she feel? Tell me." The huskiness in Steve's voice gives away his eagerness, and it leaves you feeling disappointed that you won't take him tonight while also anticipating for when you finally do.

"Like fucking heaven." Bucky tightly shuts his eyes, breathing steadily through the intense waves of pleasure. "Our Omega is so tight, so fucking wet. Don't ever want to leave her pretty pussy."

The way they talk about you like you're not even here gets you even more soaked, unable to stop the pathetic whimper that escapes your lips. Nor are you able to stop yourself from wiggling in place, heat flooding your veins as Bucky's cock shifts inside you.

"He's so greedy, isn't he, honey?" Steve asks you playfully, chuckling to himself when you nod, clearly loving your dazed state. "Not that I blame him. We've both dreamt about you, how perfect you'd be for us. We'd wake up hard as hell, desperate to call you so we can get off to your voice. We didn't know how you would feel about that, though, so we'd take care of ourselves. But you're what we think about when we have sex; we moan your name, imagining you here with us so we can love on you too, give you everything you need."

Steve's endless praise lights you on fire, your hind brain going feral over how soft his tone yet how filthy the words he's spewing is.

"I -" Pausing, you squirm again, moaning at the jolt of pleasure. "I think about you too. When... When I t-touch myself." The admission doesn't scare you like you thought it would; you're too in love with them to be embarrassed about being so vulnerable.

But your admission makes Bucky's hips stutter upwards, causing you to bounce slightly. Everyone moans, and you feel Steve's painfully hard erection rut against your backside, and you take great pride in knowing that they're clearly pleased.

"God, you're just perfect, aren't you?" Bucky sounds out of breath, like he's just ran a marathon and hasn't recovered yet. He raises his eyebrows when you start to shake your head, taking you by surprise when he lightly pinches your side - not nearly enough to hurt, just acting as a warning.

"Say it, Omega," Steve urges, rubbing your clit a little faster. "Tell us that you're perfect, and then we'll let you ride Buck like I know you're desperate to."

"I'm... perfect." You don't really believe it, but you know you'll say just about anything in order to get what you want. And, judging by the looks on both of their faces, they don't believe that you mean it either.

"One day you'll see yourself how we do; the sweet, perfect Omega that you are. And we'll be right here when you do."

Steve's words make you want to cry; they bring tears to your eyes and a surge of love through your heart. How did you get so lucky?

You don't get much time to dwell on that because Steve squeezes your breast tighter at the same time that Bucky grips your hips and guides them to grind down on his lap. More moans emanate through the air, focusing on how good it feels to be loved by these perfect Alphas, how good you feel being filled to the brim with cock.

Before long, Bucky takes your hands and places them on his shoulders, his breath hitching when you delicately rub your thumb along the scars. You know he can't feel much of it, but you hope he understands the gesture when you lean down to kiss the marks. It doesn't take but a few minutes of gyrating until you voluntarily raise up a few inches, then sink down in one fluid motion, squeezing your eyes shut because you can feel that you're about to cum but you're pleading with your body not to let you, not yet. You don't want this to end just yet.

You lift up again, then sit down with a little more force, relishing in your Alphas' groans. You feel powerful like this, taking what you want with more and more determination until you position your lower half in such a way that the tip of Bucky's cock presses into that special spot deep inside your core.

"Alpha!"

"Is that it, Omega?" Bucky asks through a clenched jaw, his pupils blown wide as he stares down at where your bodies meet, entranced by the sight of his soaked cock. "Did I hit your spot? You feelin' good?"

"So - oh!" You can't stop riding him even when the burn in your hips increases, and you know you'll be sore tomorrow, but you couldn't care less right now. All you care about is getting off and making your guys feel as good as you do. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it, 'Mega," Steve says, rubbing your clit furiously, smirking into your neck when he ducks his head and licks and sucks the skin around your scent gland. "Cum for us, show us how beautiful you are when you fall apart. Show us how sweet you are for us."

You can tell Bucky is close too based on the rapidity of his chest rising and falling, the flush covering his body, the tensing of his abs. But you can also tell that he's holding back until you break first, and your inner Omega preens at the display of restraint, knowing that he's strong enough to please you first before he allows himself his own release.

"Cum."

You're not sure who ordered it, but you don't really care. Your body tensing and your pussy clamping down on Bucky's knot as it locks inside you, waves of ecstasy washing over you until tears start streaming down your face. It seems like forever but also no time at all before you slump forward into Bucky's chest, aftershocks of your orgasm causing you to quake when you feel his own cum flood your hole, getting locked in by his fully blown knot.

You're still whimpering and crying into Bucky's chest as you come down from your high; too many positive emotions swirling in your body and mind that it can't help but pour out of you.

"Honey?" Someone asks, clearly concerned, and you shake your head.

"I - I'm okay," You assure them, focusing on the hands caressing your body. "I just... I just love you both so, so much."

"We love you too, Omega." You recognize the voice as Bucky's, your cries dwindling into sniffles until you try to sit up, but fall forward almost immediately due to how weak you feel.

"It's okay, just stay like that, honey," Steve says gently, moving from behind you to kneel at your side and rub your back. "Rest."

"But..." Breathing deeply, you feel a sense of guilt when you look down and see that Steve is still hard. You want him to get off too, eager to see him lose himself, wanting so badly to touch him and give him his own orgasm. "You didn't..."

"Oh, honey," Steve coos, smiling at you sweetly when you trail off and don't continue. "You're worried because I didn't cum?"

Shyly nodding your head, you force yourself to maintain eye contact, slowly reaching out for him.

"Can - Can I... I wanna -" You're cut off by both Alpha's groaning, squeaking a little when you feel Bucky's cock twitch.

"You wanna touch our Alpha?" Bucky asks, kissing your forehead. "You can if you want. Touch him all you want."

"It's okay," Steve coos, shuffling forward until your hand is mere inches from his twitching cock. "Go ahead, honey. Touch me. Make me cum."

Even though it's phrased as an order, you know he's not demanding it; he'd never pressure you to do anything you don't feel fully comfortable with. And that's why you finally take his cock in your hand, positive that you want to make him feel good.

It takes no time at all before the base of Steve's cock grows, only allowing you to pump it a few times before the telltale signs of his orgasm crescendo into a full body shudder. He's clearly so worked up that he can barely last a minute with your hand on him, and it makes you feel like the luckiest Omega alive.

Bucky takes you by surprise when he wraps one arm around your back, steadying you against his torso while gripping one of Steve's ass cheeks in his wide palm, leaning forward and taking the tip of his dick in his mouth as soon as the first spurt of cum leaks out.

You're entranced by the sight of your Alpha swallowing your other Alpha's cum, and you're almost a little jealous that you're not tasting it, but the sight alone is enough to make you want to watch Bucky really suck Steve off. Images flash through your mind of them teaching you how to take them in your mouth, and you shiver at the thought but decide to keep it to yourself for the meantime.

Once everything is said and done and everyone is satisfied, Steve lays back against the headboard next to Bucky, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Yawning, you all chuckle a little, soothing hands rubbing your back and sides as your eyes start fluttering with the need for sleep overtaking your mind.

"Go to sleep, honey," Bucky whispers against the top of your head, tilting your head up so he can kiss your lips. "We'll talk in the morning."

"Okay," You whisper back, accepting Steve's kiss then resting your head against Bucky's chest once more. "I love you both," You murmur, your eyes shutting completely, letting the happiness settle into your bones and succumbing to the exhaustion.

"We love you too, Omega."

You fall asleep with a smile on your face, dreams filled with a little house and a home art studio, excited for the future.

-

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[jordiemeow]

summary: new rochelle is watched over by father patrick: charismatic, trusted, adored by the town's youth. but when you, a troubled young woman, begin confessing desires you can barely name, he finds himself drawn to more than just your need for salvation.

warnings: 18+, masturbation, religious themes/blasphemy, morally dubious priest, specific age gap not specified but implied (patrick early 30s at most), power imbalance mentioned + alludes to patrick seeing himself as god, patrick jerking off while reader is unaware so tagging dubcon, reader confessing sins/praying gets this freak horny

notes: inspired by rewatching fleabag. hot priest. mmm. patrick hot priest. mmm x2. patrick hot fucked up priest. mmm x3. haven't been to church in like 4 years forgive me for anything inaccurate x

—

Patrick Zweig—or Father Patrick, as you know him—has long since noticed the way the young people of New Rochelle come to him. They do not only seek someone to represent their faith but something more elusive. Perhaps it is because he is younger than most priests. Not old and distant, but in his early thirties at most, with an easy smile and a voice that carries warmth and humour. Young enough to understand the pulse of the town's restless youth but old enough to carry the weight of the Lord's unyielding authority.

The people of the town gravitate towards him for the rare sense of understanding he offers. His sermons aren't just words; they feel like conversations, one between a sinner who has repented inviting them to do the same. It’s raw. Real. Sometimes he thinks they have come to trust him a little too much.

That must be what draws you to him. Conversations in town, staying after service to light candles just to catch a glimpse of him tidying away prayer books or emerging from the sacristy absent of his vestments. The real man behind those robes of faith. 

He’s come to enjoy your company. The shy smiles you offer when he lights a candle next to yours, or the way your pupils dilate when your lips part oh-so-willingly to accept communion from his giving hands. Yes, perhaps it’s not the company itself he likes, but rather the way you look at him as if you’re waiting for his absolution. Not God's. His.

And it comes eventually when you bump into him while walking home after a rough day. Bloodshot eyes, nose running and hands trembling when you choke out a "Father, I must confess. May I come by the Church tomorrow?"

He agrees. What kind of priest would he be to turn away a parishioner in need? He knows that's not why, of course. He enjoys the thrill of command in his sacred space. The silent dominance in your submission. It is a heady feeling to hold power not just as a priest, but as a man standing between your past and your hope for redemption.

"Tell me," he says. "What would you like me to do for you tonight?"

Your hands wring together nervously. The sight makes something stir within him. "I want to feel clean. I want to believe I'm not beyond saving."

"Then you must accept your truth and seek the path towards light. Not by denial, but by courage." He nods towards the booth. Your eyes dart over nervously, but you mimic his nod in wordless assent.

Neither of you speak as you settle in on opposite sides, curtain shut until the sacred and forbidden mingle only in the flickering candlelight beneath the red fabric. He can barely make out the blurry shape of your face through the lattice, and for a moment all he hears is his breathing mixing with your own.

It starts tame. Things like I pretended to be sick to get out of going to work or I've been slacking on my nightly prayers because I've been too lazy before bed. He wants to press, because clearly you did not beg to come to confession just for this. There must be something darker weighing on your soul.

But he forces himself to be patient, interjecting only when necessary to assure you that you are holding yourself accountable and therefore will be cleansed in the eyes of God. Until you utter the words:

"And... and sometimes I touch myself. To relieve the ache within me. I know it is wrong, and I want to stop. To repent."

Blood instantly rushes south at those words. His fingers dig in to his palms so hard it almost feels like his nails would rend his flesh. Such admissions are commonplace in the House of the Lord, and yet hearing you speak them does something to Patrick. His mind wanders to places it shouldn't. He conjures images of you writhing in the silence of your room while your hand seeks that sinful high. 

His nails dig into his skin and he has to inhale through his nose to keep his voice from cracking when he asks, "How often does this ache come upon you?"

It is so quiet in the booth that he can hear your shaky exhale. "Almost every night, Father."

His chest rises and falls heavier as he listens to your confession, his fingers trembling under the fabric of his green cassock. He shouldn't ask. This is your place to confess, but the question slips out anyways:

"And you said you... touch yourself?"

You hesitate. You trust him enough to give him everything. The shame, the fear, the secret part of your soul you dare not speak aloud to anyone else. Attraction. Desire. Truth you're terrified to claim. It reaches into places that Patrick has long since buried beneath years of study and prayer.

He's never had the need to wait so desperately for the next sentence to fall from someone's lips. He feels as though he's hanging on to every word, hand gripping his thigh as he waits for you to continue.

"Yes," you breathe, as if you're picturing it now, too.

"Just to relieve the ache, as you say," he clarifies. This is not something new for him. But you. He’s always been so fond of you and the way you looked up at him with those sweet eyes of yours… 

This is wrong. This is holy ground. He is supposed to guide you, not...

Not what? Want you? Use you? Revel in the control of your secrets?

He remembers his vows, the promise he made to serve God, to resist temptation, to be a vessel of mercy and purity. But in the quiet of the chapel, the lines blur. He holds the power here—the power to condemn or to forgive—and that knowledge intoxicates him like a dark prayer one would utter to a deity that was not his own God.

Patrick wonders, then, can he separate the man from the priest? Can he keep his desire buried beneath the robes and rituals? Or is he already lost in the same darkness you're confessing to, tangled in the very sins he is sworn to save you from?

"May I ask where this ache comes from? If only to understand what you are confessing to."

His heart beats faster. It's not just a spiritual power right now. It's deeply personal, because here you are, a young woman trembling with fear and shame, laying your soul bare behind the veil of confession. And to hold the key to your salvation, or your condemnation, is an all-consuming thing. One that leads his hand to slip down, down, down into the tight confines of his cassocks. Fumbling with buttons to push further until he reaches into his boxers and—

"Well, Father, I... I find myself drawn to… men. Ones that I should not be." Oh. Yes, there it is. A gasp that is not completely in disbelief came from the other side of the confessional as his fingers curl around himself. The quiet of the booth is broken only by your voice and the faint rustle of clothing from across the lattice as he listens intently.

Married men, his brain supplies. Or perhaps someone as unobtainable as him. "Attracted in a way I should not be. I don’t want to feel this way. It’s like a weight inside me, like a stain on my soul. I pray for it to go away, but the feelings grow stronger. I’m scared I’m lost."

"You are not lost," he rasps. "Those thoughts you have... they do not define you. You are a child of God." His breathing is heavy, punctuated by a low, almost choked off groan that he prays you do not acknowledge. "The church teaches us about sin, yes, but also about love and forgiveness. What matters is your heart’s honesty."

He hears you breathe out a shaky sigh. "But I feel so dirty. Like I’m breaking God’s law."

Dirty. Breaking. God. His hand tightens around his cock, stroking up-down, up-down, up-down as your words struggle to find clarity in his head. Dirty dirty dirty. Your voice is so soft, so tinged by despair. He cannot decide whether he wants to save you or ruin you further.

"Sometimes, what we fear most is what we must face." His lip catches between his teeth so hard he can taste the tangible rust of blood on his tongue. "And in confession, you find not judgement, but understanding."

"Do you understand me, Father?"

Yes. Oh, you have no idea how much he understands you. Does God hear the conflict in my heart as clearly as your confession? He wonders. I am a priest. I am meant to forgive. But who forgives me when my own sins are tangled in the shadows?

His other hand grips the wooden screen, nails digging fruitlessly into the timber-stained beech. You may not go to Hell for this, but he certainly will. A servant of God indulging in the sin of lust in his very House of Worship. Patrick's hand picks up faster at just the thought.

"You are not alone, my child." He forces the words out. It comes out strangled, a little too sharp, a crack in the steady command you're used to. His head falls forward until his forehead brushes the screen. Patrick holds onto his weakening composure with gritted teeth.

"The Devil whispers in all our ears, but it is up to us to reject his sinful promises."

"And have you? Rejected his sinful promises?"

In that moment, he wonders if this is a test. One he is failing and too far gone to fix. Patrick lets out a hoarse laugh and doesn’t even try to hide the desperation that seeps into it.

"You have no idea." His breath hitches. His mouth is dry. His eyes burn with something that feels like pain. His cock throbs with something that feels like divine pleasure. "The things I would do to—"

He chokes on his own words. No. You are the one confessing, not him. The room feels like it is spinning and his body thrums with a sinful ache he has not felt in years. The Father he is sworn to serve would not have him succumb to this selfish desire, and yet here he is. He closes his eyes, willing himself to focus on the heavy, burning wood beneath his hand, but all he can picture beneath the screen is you. On your knees, eyes wide, waiting for him to do something about this burning hunger.

"This is a house of prayer, my child." His voice is hoarse. Raw. "I urge you to do the same."

His hand is a blur in his trousers and it's harder and harder to keep his voice steady. "You have not yet given me your penance for these sins."

"So I must pray?"

"Yes. On your knees."

He hears you sink down on floor, forehead pressing into the opposite side of the screen as his. He can only imagine what he would be doing—tasting—if not for the wooden barrier. He feels dizzy. Light-headed.

The weight of the penance he imposes feels like a chain, one you're willing to accept. Because in that submission, you find a flicker of hope. Your hands clasp together in your lap.

"Repeat after me. Our Father—" His breath catches on the word father. He hears you say the words on the other side of the lattice.

"—Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name."

Patrick's hand picks up. Squeezing at the base of his thick length, dragging it up to smear himself in the essence of his own dark desire. He wonders if you can hear the slick slide of his hand around his cock with as much clarity as he does.

"Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread—"

Something that sounds like a moan pushes out from behind the screen. You pause.

"Father? Are you alright?"

"Yes." His answer is too fast, too breathy, but he commands nonetheless: "Keep going."

You continue without him. His eyes are screwed shut as he pumps himself, listening to your sweet voice sing to him like an angel. Temptation personified praying to the Lord who will condemn him for the gratification he is bringing himself right now.

And then, eventually:

"Amen."

That does it for him. Sudden and abrupt, the warmth of his sin spills into his hand, coating his fingers and the inside of his boxers. A pleasure so hot that it feels like it comes from the Seven Hells themselves, vision whiting out as a low groan forces its way out of his throat, raw and guttural.

The silence afterwards is stifling. He takes in ragged breaths that sound more like sobs. It leaves you kneeling in your guilt, heart pounding, unsure what to do next. What was that noise? Was Father Patrick crying? Or was it something else? You swallow thickly.

He slowly slides back onto the bench, running an unsteady hand through his dark hair. "Rise, child." He hears the scuffling of you pushing yourself up to your feet. "God has freed you from your sins. Go in peace."

Silence on the other side of the lattice, before you speak tentatively: "Thank you, Father." You do not thank God. You thank him directly. It should not make him feel as satisfied as it does.

Patrick does not move when he hears the curtain draw, or when your footsteps disappear down the nave. It is only after he hears the distant sound of you blessing yourself in the narthex and the door creaks shut behind you that he rises.

He steps out, inspecting the glistening of his hand in the dying sunlight that peeks through the clerestory. He is stained by guilt, and yet he makes no effort to scrub the evidence from his skin.

Because if he wants to feel clean, truly clean, he must be willing to feel dirty first.

—

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[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 5 - Better

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Hi! I'm sorry this took so long, work has been kicking my bum lately and I haven't had much writing time. But it's here - the final part! I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who has reblogged/commented/engaged with this story - it means so much. Thank-you!!

💔

One week later…

You were cleaning tables when you glanced at the diner’s clock and realised it was almost 9am. Friday was here once again…

…Would he be in as usual?

It was raining heavily outside, throughout the early shift your regulars had rushed in and shaken the sogginess off their coats and umbrellas once they were safely over the threshold of the diner. You’d chatted with them, commiserating with them about ‘this damn weather’ and promising to warm them up with coffee and breakfast.

You’d spent your time off this last week popping into the hospital to see Lou. He was doing well, making progress, but the road to recovery was long. He needed to make major adjustments to his lifestyle and potentially engage in physical therapy as they think he’d also had a small stroke. He got his personal mail delivered to the diner and asked you to open it and keep him updated with anything pressing. The medical bills you’d seen were already dizzying and his insurance only covered part of it, but you couldn’t bother him what that just yet – he didn’t need the stress on top of everything else. You’d figure it out. You always did.

Lou had made you acting manager to pick up the slack while he was gone. You were pulling extra hours, working overtime to ensure the ship remained afloat while the captain remained on the shore. It was tough, but you couldn’t deny you loved the buzz of being in charge – of keeping everything moving.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since that night at the hospital. He’d insisted on driving you home after you’d said goodbye to Lou, ignoring your protests that the subway was perfectly fine…

“The subway, doll? Fuck no. Not on my watch”.

You’d rolled your eyes, knowing you didn’t have the energy to fight him after the evening you’d had. He knew it too. You’d merely sighed and hopped into the back of his SUV as you gave him your new address, giving a little wave to Clint who was driving.

The two of you sat in the back in silence for the entire journey, you watched the city flying past you from the window and it felt strange that the outside world was just continuing around you like normal while yours had almost collapsed.

The car rolled to a stop in front of your building, and you turned to Bucky. He seemed to be studying you carefully, concern drawn across his features. Even after all this time and distance, the beauty of his face still took your breath away at times.

“Thank-you…for the ride. For dinner. For showing up…all of it,” you said softly.

He nodded stoically, “always. Look…no matter what happens between us, I’ll always show up for you if you need me. Any time, any place. And Lou is going to be just fine, alright?”

Almost instinctively you found your hand sliding across the leather of the seat towards him. He looked down as your hand moved to find his. You clasped your fingers around his metal digits, the cool sensation against your skin was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. They in turn wrapped around yours and the two of you sat holding hands for a short while. You didn’t speak or look at each other, just both existing in the moment and concentrating on the feeling of your hands entwined. You paused, wanting to say more – but unable to quite find the words.

Eventually you couldn’t bear the strange tension in the air. You gently withdrew your hand and cleared your throat as you shuffled across the seat towards the door.

“Well, thanks again. And for the ride, too”.

“Anytime. Nice building…” he peered out of the window at your apartment block.

“Ah yeah, thanks,” you said proudly.

“You doing okay, living there?” he asked quizzically in his Brooklyn-lilt, his brows furrowed.

“Mm…I mean, it’s not as fancy as your place,” you chuckled, “it’s kinda cramped and small, but it’s cosy and warm. And it’s mine,” you told him with fondness.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “My place was yours too, you know”.

You chewed on your lip, you hadn’t intended it as a slight against him. “I-I know Buck…but…you know what I meant”.

He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah…that’s good. I’m pleased for you, really”. His nose crinkled as he looked at you fondly. It was a little mannerism of his that you’d missed.

You shared a small smile before getting out of the car and heading inside. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look back at the car, a storm of emotions fighting to escape you. Your fatigue mixed with your anxieties about Lou, confusion about this sudden shift with Bucky now swelling. You could tell from the quiet behind you that the car hadn’t pulled away yet, no doubt waiting until you were safely off the street. You put your key in the door and quickly moved inside.

That was last week. You hadn’t spoken to him since, although you’d wondered if you should reach out. You thought he might’ve been in touch – a text, a call, but nothing. It was nice, he was leaving the ball in your court and not crowding you, respecting the boundaries you’d established. But part of you couldn’t shake the small sense of disappointment that lingered, too.

The fact was you couldn’t deny that something was stirring. Bucky, who you’d long written off and blacklisted for his betrayal, had started to be on your mind more and more. He had crept back into your brain.

You didn’t believe the old adage that time healed all wounds, but it had certainly helped. The space you’d had from him a year on from the incident had allowed you to find yourself again, the parts that you hadn’t realised you’d lost after diving headfirst into your relationship with Bucky. You still felt immense pain when you thought about what happened…but you also thought about how he had been true to his word. He hadn’t tried to force you back, not aggressively pursuing you or trying to talk you round. His weekly mornings at the diner had never felt pointed or manipulative. You believed that he was just happy to have you in his life, like he’d said. You’d since found your own place, started therapy and looked at your own issues, thrown yourself into work. Remembered who you were before you were ‘mob boss girlfriend’. You knew that what had happened with Bucky was not your fault, it wasn’t your job to reflect and change accordingly – that was all his. But still, having the space and time to work on yourself…it was refreshing. One small silver lining on this ugly, black cloud.

You’d also been on a few dates over the last few months. Nothing to write home about. A few nice guys, a few less than nice guys. Nothing had truly sparked for you; nobody had piqued your interest enough to want to really explore more than a few dinners or coffees. Maybe it was because of how things ended with Bucky, or you just hadn’t met someone right for you, or maybe you were just off dating altogether…But it wasn’t something you felt real enthusiasm for at this point. But that was okay. It had been fun to dip your toe back in the dating pool, and you weren’t averse to trying again when the moment was right, or you met the right person.

Unless of course, it was because someone else was on your mind.

Your slow burn friendship with Bucky had crept on you, taken you by surprise. The man who had once broken your heart now had a new place in your life. It was strange, but in some ways, you knew him better than you had when you were together. Despite your previous connection - your conversations had opened territory up you’d never covered together before, previously too caught up in passion and heat to dive as deeply as you had now.

And most importantly, he had shown up for you that night at the hospital, been there for you without you needing to ask. He had brought you dinner and stayed by your side without a word, because he knew you needed not to be alone – needed support. You were touched by his care for you, his willingness to clear his schedule for you at the drop of a hat. It meant a lot. It meant everything. He had intuited how you felt and acted immediately. He was there.

You didn’t know what it meant, if anything. Something had changed, the safe barrier of diner breakfast chats had been crossed. Part of you was panicking – no! Don’t let him get close, not again! Remember what he did! But another part of you had missed him deeply, longed to hold him again and wake up to him each morning. Your thoughts were a spiralling mass of contradictions and conflict, nothing made sense.

You weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what happened.

But could you try?

Roscoe snapped you out of your thoughts as he passed you the latest batch mail on his way by. You thanked him, flicking through the junk mail until your attention was caught by the hospital logo on one of the envelopes. You winced, tentatively ripping open the paper as you braced yourself for the latest bill.

You cursed under your breath as you unveiled the total figure, a stupid amount of money. You spiralled as it sank in, wondering if Lou would have to sell the diner in order to settle his debt. You knew he didn’t have anywhere near enough in his savings. You thought about all the jobs that could be at stake, including yours, and your heart ached most of all knowing that the restaurant was Lou’s baby. It would break him to give it up.

Maybe you could call them, sort out a payment plan…something?

You tried to calm yourself down, thinking about what your therapist would say about your immediate jump to the worst-case scenario. Relax. You can fix this. Remember your mindfulness exercises. Life would find a way.

The opening of the front door pulled you from your catastrophising. You glanced over, making eye contact with a rather damp Bucky as he entered the diner. He sighed, shaking the rain from his coat as he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“A lovely morning…” he muttered, deadpan.

You smiled, stuffing the hospital bill into your apron pocket and going to grab the coffee jug, “Morning, Buck. Get a little wet?”

“A little,” he gruffed, slotting himself into his usual booth.

You chuckled as you filled up his mug.

“How’s Lou?” he asked, shaking the rain from his hair.

“He’s doing better, thanks for asking. They’ve got a whole treatment plan worked out for him - so that’s positive”.

“Good. Glad to hear. You over here running the show while he’s out?”

“Something like that,” you smiled, then shuffled on your feet as you realised you needed to talk to him. “Bucky, I-”

A loud clatter and exclamation from the kitchen cut you off, causing you both to look over at the disturbance. You sighed with exasperation.

“Ah. Duty calls…I’ll put your order in while I’m in there”.

You rushed off to sort out whatever mess waited for you in the kitchen as Bucky smiled playfully at your annoyance.

He noticed something had fallen out of your apron as you dashed off. A piece of paper. He leaned over to pick it off the floor for you in case you needed it. Before he realised it was private and had a chance to look away, his eyes were immediately drawn to the monstrous sum at the bottom of the page. Ah. He grimaced as he quickly put two and two together, folding the paper neatly and leaving it on the table. He took a sip of his coffee.

You appeared a little while later with his order, sighing heavily as you placed the plate in front of him.

“Sorry about that…Roscoe and Ron were fighting about if the bacon was too crispy, and some trays got caught up in the carnage. Never a dull moment around here…”

You suddenly noticed the paper on the table, your words trailing off as your eyes locked onto it. You snatched it away quickly, shoving it into your apron.

“That’s not…that’s-” you floundered, embarrassed for him to have seen it.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop. You dropped it, so I picked it up and then realised what it was,” he explained softly.

“It’s fine. I’m dealing with it,” you shrugged, desperate to appear nonchalant.

“Sit down, doll”, he said sternly.

You scoffed, “Bucky…I’m busy running a restaurant here…”

He paused, looked up and bellowed across the diner, “Roscoe! Ron! Handle things while your boss takes a break!”

You rolled your eyes, turning to see Roscoe and Ron nodding furiously as they scattered and suddenly started working harder than you’d ever seen them. They had always been afraid of Bucky. You stifled a laugh.

“Problem solved, now sit,” he gestured.

You reluctantly sat down opposite him, “Bucky…”

“We’re gonna talk”.

“I don’t need-”

“No. Let’s do this”, he said sternly.

You folded your arms in front of you, fully aware that you resembled a petulant teenager but not caring enough to stop.

Bucky cleared his throat, taking a sip of his coffee before picking up the letter. “Now, I don’t want to overstep…but I can take care of this you know…”

You shook your head. “No. Thanks for the offer, but no,” you told him firmly.

“Alright. That’s fine. So, Lou has enough to cover it?” he asked, “all of it?”

You nodded a bit too quickly, “mmhmm”.

Bucky caught it immediately, your lie. You noticed the quirk of his brow and the subtle rubbing of his lips together. Damn him.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he sipped his coffee again and ate a few forkfuls of his meal, then wiped his mouth with a napkin and tilted his head quizzically. “Guess it’s all wrapped up, then”.

You nodded again in agreement, but knew he wasn’t done.

He took his time, casually taking a few more bites of his breakfast and sipping his coffee. You knew his relaxed demeanour was a careful façade…you had somehow found yourself at the centre of a famed Bucky Barnes interrogation.

You tried to appear relaxed, as if you had nothing more to add.

“Because…” he started.

Ugh.

“…because, if he didn’t have enough. That would be a problem, wouldn’t it?”

“Mmm. It would. But it’s not…so…”

“Right”, he cut you off. “But if he didn’t – great eggs today by the way – if he didn’t, that would be putting this place at risk, right? All the staff here and their jobs. Your job?”

“Right,” you replied, your voice a little strained.

“And of course Lou himself…he loves this place. It’s his baby. I’m sure he’d be devastated if he had to give it up to pay his medical bills. Especially as the last thing he needs right now is more stress and financial worries on top of his ill health”. He paused again to eat, not even looking up.

You nodded; your eyes now slightly cloudy now.

“Yep…” you said meekly.

He looked up at you, his eyes intensely locked onto yours, gesturing towards you with the fork. He was in full swing now. The diner suddenly felt much hotter, you could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on your forehead and the back of your neck.

“And I hope it would be known, if that was the case of course, that my offer would have no strings attached. Because I could imagine someone might decline it out of pride, or concern that it would have conditions and that person would then be in some sort of debt to me…either financially or emotionally. And if that was the case, I’d want to reassure them that it would only be a friend looking out for a friend, helping because I want to, and I can, and God knows I should do something nice once in a while to even out my moral scales…”

The barrier broke and your tears finally escaped, the stress about Lou and this intimidating bill, and your confusion about how you felt for Bucky, all finally coming to the surface. You cupped your face in your hands as you quietly sobbed.

“I’m sorry, I just…I…”

Bucky moved like lightning, whipping around to your side of the booth as he swung in next to you.

“Hey…hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to be clear what my offer entailed; but I understand why you’d be reluctant to accept my help”.

He pulled a few napkins from the dispenser and tenderly wiped away your tears.

“It wouldn’t be a loan, doll, and you wouldn’t need to make nice with me to say thanks. You could call me an asshole and dump these eggs on my head, and I’d still pay in full with a smile. There’s no expectation here, no contract – legal or implied”.

You sniffed, looking up at him blearily, “you’d really do all that for me…but…why?”

He paused, then very delicately used his thumb to collect the tears forming at the side of your eye.

“You know why,” he said plainly.

Your heart panged, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, clutching at one of the now-soggy napkins he’d given you. You sniffed again as you regained your composure, suddenly feeling exposed in front of him. The two of you stared at one another for a few moments and you were so desperate to tell him everything, but you couldn’t form the words. You hoped he would elaborate and fill in that gap for you, but he didn’t.

He quietly got up, putting on his coat and placing some bills down on the table to cover his check. He leaned over and kissed you on the crown of your head, then used a finger to tilt your chin up to look at him.

“You don’t have to decide anything now,” he told you as he looked into your eyes, “Think it over. I’ll be back here next week like always”.

He smiled at you, then disappeared out into the street. You heard the roaring of the rain outside as the diner door opened, the little bell above the frame chiming to announce his departure.

You missed him already.

You looked down at the hospital bill in your hands, the total at the bottom practically screaming from the page.

He’d hurt you so badly, you weren’t sure if you could ever fully forgive him for that fateful night. You understood it had been his insecurities, you understood he had lashed out after he thought his worst fears were realised – but that had only even explained his actions, not justified them.

Although…he’d always been there over the last year. Slow and steady, but he’d taken the time to rebuild his relationship with you platonically. He’d let you manage the pace, never tried to force anything more than you were willing to give him.

…and he’d been there for you.

He continued to be there for you.

It wasn’t about the money. He wasn’t trying to pay you off to win favour. He was just trying to be there for you, and this was something he had the power and resources to help you with.

He was your friend.

He loved you. He’d continued to love you…

“Are you back off break, boss?” Roscoe rudely interrupted your train of thought, “Ron said that the fryer-”

You were pulling off your apron before your brain could even catch up with your body.

“Nope,” you shot back, firing out of the booth at full speed as you tossed the apron at him on your way out, “a little longer…”

You left Roscoe gawping in your wake as you sailed through the front door. You yelped in shock as you stepped out into the downpour, you’d forgotten about the mini storm happening beyond the restaurant doors. It was so dark outside it looked more like early evening than the morning hours. You looked down at your immediately soaked uniform, your work shoes flooding as you traipsed through the puddles…

Focus!

You surveyed the street, your eyes catching a brief glimpse of the SUV turning the corner. The instantly recognisable JBB107 plates drawing your focus in the split second before they vanished.

And so you ran.

You sprinted after the SUV waving your arms, shouting for it to stop. A concerned elderly lady asked if you were okay but you sailed on by. You must’ve looked utterly insane.

You rounded the corner and rushed up behind the SUV as it slowed. The back door flew open, and Bucky suddenly appeared out of it, a look of horror on his face as the vehicle pulled over.

“Doll! Jesus Christ, what the- are you okay??” he shouted to you as you approached.

You didn’t answer, just flung yourself inside the car as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Bucky slid across the seat to give you room. The divider screen was up so you couldn’t see the driver. One less person to witness your mortifying display, at least.

“Fuck…you must be freezing,” he muttered as he pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders and leaning over to close the car door behind you.

You were, your teeth chattered. Your hair was wet and matted, your uniform soaked through.

“Bucky…” you said hoarsely as you dripped all over his plush car interior.

“What is it, doll?” he asked, his eyes wide and alarmed, “what’s going on??”

You couldn’t find the words so you acted purely on instinct, you cupped his face and kissed him. Kissed him hard. Kissed him longingly. He caught up quickly and kissed you back, his fingers tangled in your soaking hair. It was desperate, messy. Your teeth clashed and your cheeks bumped. It had been so long that you’d lost each other’s rhythm with this. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. You couldn’t have waited any longer.

He pulled away, gawping at you incredulously as he held your face in his hands.

“Doll…does this mean?”

“Let’s go slow,” you whispered, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. The effort you’ve put into rebuilding us from the ground up…for being my friend…for never pushing me…for Lou…but I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into this headfirst…whatever this is…”

He nodded, “of course, anything you want”.

“I’m not sure if I can…fully forgive. But I want to try,” you told him softly as you pressed your forehead to his.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as he sighed. A sigh of long held tension, of relief.

“Thank-you for giving me a chance…I didn’t think you ever would again,” he admitted.

“Yeah…well neither did I,” you laughed,

“What changed your mind?”

“Well…. how you showed up for me with Lou has made me rethink a lot of things. Plus…the money”.

He laughed, “the money? Really? This whole time I just needed to pay you off?”

“No…”, You rolled your eyes, “it was more that you offered, but you didn’t force anything, and you made it clear it was no strings attached. It’s like…you want to help me, but you trust me to make my own decisions and don’t just try and fix it all for me, like you used to. I just…it made me realise how much I’ve missed you. But it’s gotta be different this time…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…like…I want to stay in my apartment. And I want to keep my job,” you said firmly.

He nodded, “yeah. Of course”.

“Maybe I’d move back in with you one day…but I want my space”.

“Okay. You got it,”.

You smiled, “yeah?”

He smiled back at you, the smile that still made you weak at the knees. “Doll? If it means you’re by my side…Of course ‘yeah’. Anything you want. And I have some conditions too…”

“What?” you frowned. “This isn’t exactly a two-way negotiation, Buck…”

“Just…listen. They’re conditions for me. I promise I’m going to trust you entirely, and to communicate you with you properly – not let my emotions get the best of me. I’m a different man to who I was the last time we were together. I know how lucky I am to get this second chance with you. I’m not fucking it up. I'm gonna be...better”.

He spoke earnestly with such conviction that it was almost aggressive. You nodded gently, squeezing his hand. You believed him.

“Alright…well, let’s give it a shot, shall we?”

He grinned, “I can’t believe you’re here…”

“Me neither. But…I’m sorry I’m dripping rainwater all over your car”.

He shrugged. “Fuck the car”.

And then he kissed you again.

Maybe you did believe in happy endings.

THE END

There we have it! I hope you liked where it went. I know some of you didn't think she should ever forgive him and I understand, and I'm sorry if you're disappointed! But in my eyes he had shown her he was willing to change...and she wasn't trying to rush back into anything heavy. Thank you for reading!

If you liked this story, please consider supporting me with my Ko-Fi link 💐

[americaswritings]

Voices of Roses and Ruin

Warnings: Psychological torture, manipulation, Coriolanus being himself

Summary: Coriolanus is forced to watch the gamemaker use his voice against you in the arena.

Words: around 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I watched TBOSAS yesterday and yeah don't judge me but young Snow is hot and I shipped him and Lucy Gray a lot (until it all went downhill cough cough). Obviously he's horrible and does many unspeakable things later (!!!). But I think the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute has so much potential and when I saw the birds in the film I thought of this idea.

This is written from Coriolanus perspective (I haven't read the book yet. I just bought it and I'm so excited to read it!). I obviously wanted this to be about real feelings, but I tried to stay true to his character so there are some 'questionable' and alarming thoughts and motifs in here.

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part II | Masterlist

Coriolanus had thought watching you in the arena, alone and scared, hiding from a pack of murders that were hunting for your life was among the worst things he had ever gone through, but nothing could have prepared him for the Gamemaker’s new horrendous plan.

He was tired, just as you were, but refused to go home like most students had done. Instead his head was resting in his hand as he kept watching your sleeping form, as if he could protect you if he just kept his eyes on the screen and on the lookout for a potential threat.

He wouldn’t be able to do anything for you, if the pack of murders found you. He couldn’t warn you or give you advice.

All he could do was sit here and watch and he found himself thinking if this was not the worst torture of them all; being trapped here while you were out there and all he could do was watch.

You were trembling in your sleep, if from the cold or fear he didn’t know, but he kept his expression carefully guarded as he felt his own heart breaking bits by bits.

Even there covered in dirt, with your hair a wild mess and your clothes strained with mud you looked breathtaking to him.

You were pretty, there was no denying that. Everyone else saw it too. He saw it in the way heads turned for you, men‘s eyes raking over your body like you were theirs to take.

He hated it, every part of it.

They all deserved to die.

But it wasn’t your looks that had drawn his attention to you. What had fascinated him. He liked to think he wasn‘t shallow like most people and blinded by pretty things.

No, what has drawn him to you was the way you carried yourself. The confidence you wore like an amour. Yet you were breakable at the same time.

You seemed to be made up of duality; strong but so weak, fierce but uncertain, opinionated but withdrawn, stubborn but helpless.

You were a dangerous little thing and a petite fragile flower at once. Drawing all eyes on you but forgotten due to your ordinariness by most after a moment.

Not by him though. To him you could never be ordinary.

It was frustrating and captivating and alluring.

Naturally, his constant worry for you since you had entered the arena stemmed from his will to get the scholarship. It was what he deserved and he would claim it.

Tht was why he was so engaged in saving you, not because of the deep unease he felt when he saw you in that arena, your eyes drifting around frantically until they passed a camera and he could have sworn they had locked on his for a moment.

It had nothing to do with the way his whole body seemed to light up when you smiled or the invisible pull he felt towards you when you were in the same room as him.

He definitely didn’t want to kiss you and he didn’t dream about you since the reaping, when his eyes had fallen on you for the first time and he had only thought one thing: You’re mine now.

Mine to claim, to showcase, to protect.

He had gone into the mentorship thinking he would use you to serve him and his purpose of getting what he deserved, but as he watched you now, still rooted in his chair although a deep exhaustion weighted down his body, he knew he was serving you.

Being here with you every second of the way. Vowing to protect you. Whatever it took.

You awoke from your restless sleep right before the screaming started. In an instant you were up, your eyes widened in panic as you gazed around, trying to locate the source. With the rest of the students that had stayed Coriolanus flinched in his seat, leaning forward to try and help you figure this out.

As quickly as it had started the screaming stopped and for a moment you were one, both breathing and blinking heavily as your mind tried to make sense of what happened.

And then he heard a voice. His voice. “Follow me.”

He forgot to breathe for a moment as he stared at what was happening in pure shock. You seemed just as confused, turning around in circles as you tried to find him there.

„Coriolanus?”, you whispered and took a step forward, towards the voice. “Follow me”, it whispered again and he watched you do.

No, no, no.

Around him he heard chuckles from the other students, but he drowned them out. All he could focus on was you, following his voice through the darkness. “Where are you?”, you hissed, your eyes darting around. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you.”

He sank lower in his seat, wishing himself somewhere else. It wasn’t him saying the words, obviously, but it was his voice and everyone could hear it, see you follow it.

He hoped people would laugh about you. About your nativity and the brilliant idea of the gamemaker to use your mentors voice against you. Hell, he didn’t even care, if they thought you might have a silly little crush on him and the gamemaker used it against you.

Because if people knew the whole truth, he couldn’t imagine the catastrophe that would follow.

The truth that there was something between the two of you, the mentor and the tribute. That it was something he couldn’t explain, but had let him do dangerous things. Break rules. Forget himself.

The truth that this might not be him speaking those words now, but that he had spoken them to you once. Had they been listening all this time?

His stomach twist in terror as he tried to remember all you had shared with each other, all he had said to you. Promised you.

It would ruin him.

“I can’t see you”, you whispered now, being led further into darkness.

Damn it, think! He wanted to yell at you. It’s not me. I’m not there.

There was no reason for him to be there.

Except…there was.

“I’m here to see you. I won’t let anything happen to you!”

“How cute”, one girl hissed in his ear, but he remained stoic. “She’s as dumb as they come”, another said and he wanted to punch her. Enjoy the feeling of triumph when she looked at him in horror and didn’t dare open her mouth again.

“Looks like you’re guiding her straight to her own death. How ironic.”

And it was ironic.

Maybe in his attempt to protect you, save you, all he had done was ruined your one chance.

All he had said to you to make you trust him and then because he hadn’t been able to stop himself were used against you now and all he could do was watch. Keeping his face carefully blank he shut out their voices. They didn’t matter.

Finally he saw you hesitate. Maybe you had remembered his exact words or maybe you realized that you weren’t getting anywhere. That if it truly was him he would have just stepped out of the shadows and shown his face. “Is this real?”

Oh how funny it was to the people around him. He hated them all. Every single one.

Your words hit a mark. They pierced right through his heart, because he had said them to you. Whispered them. Before your farewell, when he had visited you one last time.

Your faces had only been separated by a few inches and he had fought the urge to kiss you right there and then. But he couldn’t.

Because of everything, but also because it felt too much like goodbye. It was stupid, but if he didn’t give into the temptation then, a part of him hoped it meant you would come back to him.

That your chapter wasn’t over, your story just starting. He would kiss you when you won. When there was a chance for a future with you.

Still those words had escaped his mouth, like he needed the reassurance that you felt the same way. That this meant something, so much that it was worth the risk.

Coriolanus leaned forward in his seat, hope blossoming in his chest. He didn’t know why whatever game they were playing with you hadn’t affected the other tributes yet, but he was sure their time would come.

And right now it seemed you wouldn’t fall for their tricks. Because there could come no answer to your question, as he had been the one asking it.

But he had underestimated the gamemakers.

Instead of a reply there came a scream and then a groan. “Coriolanus?” “Help me!”, he heard himself yelp. What?! He had never sounded like that.

But then flashes came back to him. The bombs. How the arena had collapsed, almost burying him alive. He would have died there, if it hadn’t been for you.

You had saved him.

But how in the hell did they get his voice now?!

“Coriolanus!”

Gone was the glimpse of hesitance and suspicion and you began sprinting into the direction the voice was coming from.

No!

He watched with dread as you ran directly towards the sound. It’s not real, he whispered, knowing you couldn’t hear him but desperately hoping somehow his words would reach you.

When you stumbled upon a clearing you jerked to a stop, twisting and turning, your gaze furiously searching for something.

“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!” But he could only hear his own painful screams, in between pleading for your help. Sounds he was certain he had never made.

What was this?

With a stab of pain he saw your face was tearstained. You were crying. For him. For someone from the capitol.

Was this what the gamemaker wanted?

Whatever you did or said would never matter again.

All everyone would see when they looked at you now was the broken girl in a dark forest, all alone and desperate and crying for a man she never stood a chance with.

A man who knew hunger just as you did, who in a way fought for survival every day too. But they would never see that, because unlike you he wouldn’t let them. Where you had no choice, he still had one. And he was watching that one chance crumble in front of him.

Flashes of a better life filled his mind.

A house. Plates of food. Tigris smiling. His uniform, a real one made from the finest materials hanging draped neatly over a chair. Laughter echoing through the corridors and then a flash of your face as you stepped into the room, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you leaned over the desk to peek a look at what he was working on.

It was the life they deserved, he deserved, if he got the scholarship. But you were there too. Alive and well, just as breathtaking. And you were his.

There had never been the choice between the scholarship and you, because they were one. Your life was connected to it and so his was to yours.

But now he could loose both and he felt the agony of that thought travel through his whole body.

The screaming seemed to be everywhere and he watched helplessly as you bent forward, covering your ears. All he wanted was to get the screaming to stop, wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was okay.

Instead he forced a neutral expression on his face, as if seeing you break didn’t break him the same way and pray for this hell to end.

Part II

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PERMANENT

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[idkwhatever580]

Embarrassed

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x enhanced!reader (Reader has powers like Wanda's but pink because I'm the author and I can do what I want, and my fav color is pink)

Prompt: Reader's best friend Wanda informs reader about this new thing she learned with Agatha that amped up their sex life. Reader decides to try it out with Nat, and the outcome is better than expected.

Warnings: SMUT, enchanted strap, bondage, slapping, daddy kink (daddy is not a reflection of your gender just a term I used i swear!) cumming without permission?/warning?, swearing, tmi? (Is there such thing as tmi between best friends?), teasing. Top!Reader (semi soft)

A/N: I already had this in my drafts partially finished but then I got a rq and I thought I could incorporate it into this so yeah :) thanks for the request @keirannoa420 <3 (I made reader afab but I think I made them gn for everything else I hope that isn't a problem!)

Today is a simple day for the Avengers. Almost nobody is on a mission today, so everyone is doing their own thing to decompress and rest. Especially since last week was horrible. It was just mission after mission for you and the others.

From what you know, Tony and Bruce are in their lab, Steve and Buck went on a date after visiting Peggy's grave to give her the monthly flowers, Clint went back with his family, Thor and Loki are back at Asgard until needed, Nat is reading in her library, Agatha is in a therapy session (she is still healing from her witchy trauma, good on her!), Vision is probably floating around somewhere, Peter is with Aunt May, the rest of the younger ones are out and about, while you and Wanda are catching up on a much-needed yapping session.

"Omg did you hear what happened on Sam and Tony's mission yesterday?"

You sit up being intrigued, "No, what happened?"

She giggles at the thought of what happened, and says, "He- he"

She can't even tell you what happened without bursting into laughter. "He what! Oh my gosh stop laughing and tell me what happened!"

Your need to hear what happened overpowering your patience, but Wanda eventually can control her laughs into a soft snicker every now and then, "He had to run into the building instead of his usual flying, and he ended up slipping and falling on his back and rolling around because it was raining! Sam got the whole thing recorded thanks to redwing!"

You burst into laughter at the thought of Tony slipping, this surely hurt his ego more than anything. You gasp and say, "Wait... can I see the video? Do you have it?"

She laughs and grabs her phone, "Of course I have the video! I would say I'm surprised you don't have it, but I forgot your phone broke."

You roll your eyes at the reminder of not having a phone to do your daily social media things, but Nat says you need a break from your phone. Joke's on her, you're just bothering her more. (She secretly likes it)

You're drawn away from your thoughts when Wanda holds her phone to your face, the video of Tony slipping funnier than you pictured.

(volume is not necessary for this one)

You both started laughing so hard that tears fell from your eyes, but you both eventually calmed down and were able to change the subject. "So, how's Aggie? I feel like I haven't seen her in months even though I've only been on a mission for a week."

She smiles softly and says, "She's good. Her twice-a-week therapy sessions are really impacting her in a good way. I think she might be having a bit of a hard time adjusting to the Avengers though. She still gets overwhelmed sometimes. Which is what I was scared about. I didn't want to bring her into this space after nine whole months of secretly dating just for her to regress on her progress, but I think she is getting there. Her communication skills are definitely getting better which is helping me accommodate to her needs you know?"

You smile and nod knowingly, "Yeah, I remember coming here for the first time from being a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent, it was terrifying, but my relationship with Nat only grew from where we were. Something is bound to blossom from her too. Anything else interesting with you two?"

Wanda sends me a small smirk and says, "I've been trying out new spells and tricks to cast and I happened to fall upon an interesting spell."

You raise an eyebrow with a tentative voice, "Interesting how?"

She giggles and says, "Okay, so obviously we talk about our sex lives a lot together, but this spell just made bedroom time way better. It's a spell to make an inanimate object basically a part of you. You can feel it and everything that happens to it. So, I tested this spell out on a certain strap-on that we use and let me just say I've never felt so good before. I think you should really try it on Nat, the first time I did it to Aggie, she literally cried because she felt so good."

You raise your eyebrows suggestively and say, "That is quite the interesting find Wands. I'm impressed. You'll have to show me the spell. I think I might try it out on Natty tonight if I can do it right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few tries of this new spell with Wanda, you're able to feel everything that happens to the tv remote in your leg. You smirk at Wanda and go to exit the room just as Agatha comes back. You send your goodbyes and almost sprint to Natasha's library, making sure to stop by your room to get a certain backpack.

The joys of having your own floor with Natasha means that the things on that floor are only used by the both of you, unless otherwise provoked. So, you know nobody is going to be walking into this space. This also means that you guys can literally fuck anywhere on that floor, but you are so excited to try this spell on her.

You slow down right before you enter and you saunter in, even though Nat has her noise cancelling headphones on, so you know she won't hear you. You come up behind her and softly rest your arms on her shoulders slowly creeping down to kiss her cheek.

She pulls off her headphones and says, "Hello detka. Do you need anything?"

You simply nod your head and give her a soft kiss on the lips to distract her before carefully snatching the current book she is invested in. She lets go of it but not without a pout, "Baby, I was reading that."

You carefully set the book down after putting a bookmark in. Then you walk around and pull her headphones off her ears which makes her even more confused. Until you sit in her lap and snuggle up to her neck. She softly smiles and starts rubbing patterns on your back. "Aww baby, did you want cuddles?"

You nod your head innocently and she says, "Well I can do that while also reading my book so can I have it back?"

You shake your head, and she realizes there's something else you want. She raises an eyebrow, and skeptically says, "What else is it? Did you do something?"

You pull away from her neck and shake your head, "No, I didn't do nothin', but I'm 'bout to."

She furrows her beautiful brows in confusion but notices the glint in your eyes. She knows this look; she has seen it a million times before. How could she miss it? So, she pouts and says, "Aww is my detka a bit horny?"

You nod your head and whisper, "I want to try something new today."

She smirks and nods, always willing to try everything once, well, almost everything. "Of course, detka, what is it you were wanting to try?"

You smile and say, "You're gonna have to wait and find out."

She rolls her eyes at your antics, but you kiss her on the lips and the words that were on the tip of her tongue fade away quickly.

You both start making out softly, a tenderness infiltrates your hearts that only you two can replicate with each other. The kiss quickly turns aggressive though. Her hands falling to your hips to steady them when they start to move on their own, while yours go to her hair to softly tug on the luscious, fiery locks.

Moans start to spill out of you when your core starts to rub on her thigh, and she starts to unbutton your pants trying to get directly to the source, but you push her away. Before she can question your antics, you reach behind her lounge chair to grab the backpack and wave it in front of her face. She smiles and you both stand up to undress yourselves, not bothering to do it for the other, instead choosing efficiency.

Once she has the strap securely tightened around her hips, you push her back down and sit just before the silicon cock, butt resting on her thighs. "I need you to hold still and be quiet for a moment, okay?"

She furrows her brows and says, "Wait, what are you doing?"

You smile at her and say, "I just need you to trust me so I can work my magic." You kiss her doubts away and whisper, "I think you're going to quite like this."

You cast the spell silently and when it is done, you look in her eyes and there is nothing, but confusion written all over her face. "What did you do?"

You smirk and spit on your hand before softly rubbing the tip of the dildo making her hips jerk. "Woah."

You smirk and say, "Woah indeed. Did that feel good?"

She nods her head and says, "Seriously Y/n, what did you do to me?"

You giggle and say, "I made you be able to feel everything like it is your own."

You shimmy your body down to be eye level with the pink sparkly attachment, and you look up into her eyes with yours being doe like from this angle and you slowly take her length into your mouth.

This new sensation causing Nat to moan helplessly and thread her fingers through your hair. You softly start to play with yourself and stretch yourself out, while making sure to not give her too much stimulation. Once you deem yourself ready to take her, you pull away and Nat glares at you. "Why'd you pull away?"

You smile and kiss her worries away, "So I can do this..."

You grab the attachment and slowly slide yourself onto her. Moaning at the size. She always seems to be so big even when you take her all the time. She moans extra loud when you take her to the hilt, and suddenly her hips jerk and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

You force her to look into your eyes and then you start to bounce up and down while grinding onto her.

Although you are feeling very good, your sole intention is to make Nat feel good today. "How does it feel baby?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but only a measly gasp is heard. After a while, she finally is able to conjure a sentence, "Fuck... it feels- so good."

You smirk and say, "Yeah? You like feeling this pussy clench around you?"

She whimpers and nods her head biting her lip to stifle her sounds. Usually you wouldn't let that slide, but since it is her first time feeling this, you'll give her some grace.

You start to bounce up and down on her cock more aggressively and her hands tighten around your hips. She is completely still excepting the few involuntary thrusts her hips make, which make you moan at the spot she hits when she does this.

Nat's head is thrown back and she finally lets go of her lip, allowing all the beautiful sounds to tumble out of her throat. Her pathetic noises are so hot to you and even hotter when she tries to speak, "Y/n I- it feels, I-"

All of a sudden, her words are cut off with an almost pornographic moan, which makes you so wet because you never hear her be this vocal. Her hips start thrusting into you uncontrollably and her hands are scratching into your hips, not that you care.

You furrow your eyebrows as hers raise in surprise and embarrassment. You slow down and say, "Did you... did you just cum?"

Natasha lets out an exhausted breath and looks at anything but you, until you move her by her chin to look into your eyes. When she sees your eyes, she tears up a bit, "I'm sorry I don't know what's wrong with me! I usually last way longer than that! I wasn't even prepared for it; it just sprang up on me."

She starts to ramble, so you shut her up with a kiss and when you pull away you chuckle softly, "Natty baby, I don't know why you came so fast, but I'll bet you it has something to do with the fact that this spell makes you feel things you've never felt before huh?"

She nods her head, and you smile, "Do you want to keep going or do you want to stop?"

She frowns and says, "I want you to cum."

You smile and shake your head, "That's not what I asked darling, I asked about you."

She thinks about it, and then a nasty thought pops into her brain, and she says, "I wanna keep going."

So, you nod your head, and keep moving and grinding on her, this time she makes it about five minutes before the same thing happens.

You become beyond confused as it looks like she just came again. Once she calms down, you tentatively ask, "Did you just... again?"

Her eyes widen and her face turns redder than her hair. She tears up a bit and tries to shove you off of her to inevitably run off and hide from her embarrassment, but you push on her hips, and she moans again. She still tries to get away, so you cut her thoughts off with soft tone saying, "Darling, don't worry, it's okay if you did, you know? It is a new sensation, and it is normal to have a crazy reaction to it."

She previously covered her red face with her hands to hide, so you carefully pull her hands down and smile at her small frame. "Tasha, why are you hiding from me?"

She finally cracks and says, "Because! That was so embarrassing! I've never finished that fast! So, I am embarrassed because I didn't even get to last long enough to have fun, and don't even mention the fact that you didn't get anything out of it!"

You pout at her with fake pity, "Oh darling," You brush her already sweaty hair out of her face and clench your pussy on her strap making her moan at the feeling, "You don't have to worry about that, trust me, we are going to have fun all night. You'll be begging me to stop."

She timidly nods her head, and you say, "Is that okay?"

She nods and says, "I really want to keep going."

You smile and nod your head, but before you can start riding her again, she pulls you off of her swiftly and flips you over on your hands and knees, slipping right back into your wet cunt.

She leans over to whisper in your ear, "I'm gonna fuck this pussy so hard."

You can only moan in response because she's already thrusting deep and hard into your insides. You consider giving in to her and letting her take over, but you already made your mind up ahead of time and she is not getting in your way. So, with a flick of your wrist, she is flipped over, and ropes appear and tie themselves around her wrists.

You crawl up to her as the pink glimmers fade from your eyes, and shake your head, "Thought you could get away with it huh?"

She doesn't answer and you slap her breast making her jerk and yelp out, "I asked you a question, didn't I?"

She meekly nods her head, and you say, "Then I expect you to answer it."

She nods her head again and you say, "Don't make me ask again."

"Yes! I thought I could get away with it! Please daddy!"

You bite your lip at the power trip you're getting from this, but you make sure to soften up and check on Nat knowing she only uses 'daddy' when she's extra sensitive, "I want you to use the color system just like always, okay? Can you tell me a color?"

She doesn't even hesitate before saying, "Yes! Green, please daddy!"

A sigh falls from your lips at hearing that and you nod your head. "Okay baby, you know I'm not gonna be nice to you right?"

She whimpers and nods her head closing her eyes to center herself. You smirk and flip her over, making the dildo hit the bed when you push her hips down on the bed.

She moans out and you lean forward, your lips brushing softly over the shell of her ear, and you whisper, "Do not cum."

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head knowing she's already sensitive from previous orgasms, and she whines out, "No! Please daddy!"

You chuckle at her desperation and say, "If you're good tonight, I'll find a spell to make it so that you can cum in me too."

She shudders at the thought of being able to "breed" you and both of you feel it, so regardless of how much she already wants to cum, she nods her head and takes a breath to prepare herself.

Right before you are about to start, she yelps out, "Wait!"

You freeze in worry that she doesn't want this anymore, so you pause and look to her and let her speak. Her words come out the first time a quiet jumbled mess so you say, "What was that babe?"

She looks over her shoulder and says a little louder this time, "Can I hold a pillow?"

You think about it for a moment, and ultimately decide that if you're not going to comfort her until after, she might as well have something else to find comfort in, so you nod your head and she grabs a pillow. Once she is situated you wait for her queue and when she nods her head you begin to massage her ass a bit before pulling back and landing a harsh slap on her butt.

Natasha's hips jerk away from your hand, and in turn makes her strap rut against the bed stimulating her. She lets out a mix between a moan and a groan because she feels good, but she also knows you put limitations on her.

You continue your assault on her now red and pink ass, and the lewd sounds that are emitting from Nat's throat are making you more wet than you'd like to admit.

You slap her ass again, and she starts to uncontrollably hump the mattress, and you won't allow her to cum without asking so you grab her hips and lift them from the bed before she can stimulate herself any further. She groans and pleads, "Please. ugh please I need it!"

You simply chuckle and shake your head, "Need it so bad you're willing to give up cumming for a week?"

Her eyes widen at that threat and she whimpers knowing she might not be able to hold back since the last two came out of nowhere, but you lay her back down and say, "two more, then you can cum again."

She nods her head, crossing her fingers that she makes it, and out of nowhere the second to last slap is let out on her skin. It is way harder than all the others, so in turn, it makes Nat almost forget about what you said. Almost.

You hum and rub her ass tenderly, not letting her know when the last one is coming, and the second she whimpers again you pull back and hit her ass so hard it has her shoving her hips back into you.

She catches her breath and rolls around. You tell her to hold still as you are about to disenchant the strap, but Nat says, "Wait, baby, what are you doing?"

You furrow your brows and say, "I thought you said you were done after this orgasm?"

She nods and says, "I held it, I wanna cum with you on my cock."

Her eyes are so sweet and soft you simply can't refuse, so you let her win this time, riding her cock until the both of you come, and then you end up just laying together in a moment of tenderness.

"I love you detka."

"I love you too Natty, I'm glad you liked the surprise."

"Oh, I loved it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat @ale-estrabao

Comment to be added to the taglist!!! I have a list of prompts coming out after this :)))

A/N: I hope y'all liked it!!! (Did you catch my Love and Death reference???) Also, I apologize for the rushed ending, I really needed to get this out.

[yearning-for-autumn]

First off love all your fics they are amazing you never fail to amaze😍🔥Can you please please please write an azris x chubby fem reader! The boys are possessive and ravage her like the goddess she is (she is a tad insecure but azris wil remind her she’s a thick baddie)🙌🏼🙌🏼 Give me all the smutty triad bond goodness! 🤤 Thank youuuu🫶🏼

Ask and ye shall receive. This kind of turned into subby Eris and I don't know how or why. I had milkmaid dresses on my mind so I did make reader a farmer's daughter...my vibe was sexy chubby milkmaid with the braid crown...does that make sense?

If this feels clunky it's because I haven't written in months but I feel like i've risen from the dead for this one, it's what Azris does to me.

Princess Problems

Warnings - Smut, talks of insecurities

Pairings - Eris x Azriel x Reader

Wordcount - 1,500

You threw your head back in a silent scream, the sound getting lodged in your throat until it emerged as a low rasping groan. You would have been embarrassed could you think of anything past Azriel, Eris, Azriel!

The two males shared a grin at the noise Azriel had drawn out of you. Pure male pride radiating from their smug faces. His tongue delved deeper as he continued his attention with renewed enthusiasm. Eris licked a stripe up the column of your neck and followed it with a light kiss to your jaw. 

“Azriel’s mouth is so talented, isn’t it Princess?”

You huffed in response, shooting him a pointed look. As if you could give him a verbal answer when Azriel’s tongue was wet and hot and curling perfectly inside your cunt, your hips hungrily meeting his licks, grinding against his face. Your stomach rolled with the eager thrill of pleasure, building steadily. A desperate hunger only Azriel could sate. Your thick thighs clamped around his head as the pleasure pulled taught, snapped, and you gurgled through a moan as it rushed through you in harsh clamping waves. 

It took a moment to catch your bearings, and blink your eyes open, taking in the sight of Azriel, hair mussed and flopping into his eyes as he drowned in your thighs. He waited patiently, eyes never leaving yours as he waited to be let up for air. You gasped and unclenched, freeing him, and he emerged with a gasp of his own. He flashed a cocky grin at Eris. 

“You wanna taste her?”

Eris grinned and tipped forwards to catch Azriel’s lips with his own, the two sharing your essence between them, their tongues dancing filthily as if they were performing for you. Hands moved first, tangling in the shadowsinger’s hair, then Eris scrambled into his lap, deepening the kiss and grinding down against Azriel’s straining leathers, their desire only heightened by the taste of you. You watched breathlessly. 

It had taken a while for the two males' passion for you to evolve into affection for each other. The first few times you had fallen into bed with them, they had been in competition; avoiding shared touch, fighting over positions, focusing solely on you. It had taken a stern conversation for you to open their eyes to the possibilities. Once the first steps had been taken, the rest fell perfectly into place. They fit together like jigsaw pieces. 

An old feeling bubbled to the surface again. You weren’t a warrior like Azriel, nor royalty like Eris. In fact, you were a farmer’s daughter. Not special at all. And yet these extraordinary fae had chosen you to ravage each night. You watched the dance of their tongues, Eris now squirming in Azriel’s lap. He submitted so beautifully to the shadowsinger. You simply got in the way. 

You sat up a bit more, crossing your legs. Eris broke off the kiss and blinked, trying to snap out of the haze Azriel was so practised at putting him in. Azriel looked your way as well, and pulled a face. 

“You know I don’t like those thoughts, Sweetheart.” He said with a disapproving voice, noticing instantly when you were worrying about something. His eyes were still black with lust, but he lifted Eris off his lap and crawled over you, pushing you down onto your back. 

“Do I need to remind you who got Eris all riled up in the first place?”

You tried to look away but his hand gripped your cheeks firmly and pulled you back to face him. 

“You.” He answered for you. He ran a scarred finger between your heavy breasts and the centre of your belly until he reached your centre. He came up with it coated in your juices and pushed it into your mouth. 

You grimaced at the taste of yourself and he laughed darkly. 

“Don’t like it?” 

You shook your head. 

“Don’t misbehave then.” He said with a smirk, enjoying the bratty huff it elicited. Eris moved to your side, running a hand down your arm softly. You looked into his sympathetic eyes. He had first hand experience of Azriel’s tough love. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He sighed wistfully. You looked away, suddenly feeling unworthy of his praise. 

“I’m not much of a princess.” You said, then cringed. It’s not like you were usually one to critisize yourself. But thoughts had crept in over time, whilst spending more and more of it in the royal sphere. You had calloused working hands, broad shoulders and what had been referred to once as ‘child bearing’ hips. A farmer’s daughter. Perhaps a farmer’s wife one day. Not a princess. Not a High Lord’s courtesan, or even, a High Lady. You were used to heavy labour, to hard work, not party planning and courtier meetings. Eris frowned deeply. 

“What do you mean by that?” He asked. You shrugged. He flashed a look at Azriel who looked equally confused. Neither of them were used to hearing any insecurities from you, and you could tell they thought it was about your looks. Azriel pushed himself up, massaging your hip under his calloused hand. 

“Have we not been attentive enough? Have we given you a reason to think that you aren’t the most stunning princess in all of Prythian?” Azriel questioned. You sighed. 

“It’s not that, it’s just...you two work so well together. Both of you are used to this life. I’m just a farmers daughter. I don’t fit into your world. You'd be better off with someone from nobility.” You swallowed.

This earned you a growl from Eris, but Azriel put a calming hand on his leg. 

“What Eris is trying to say, Sweetheart, is that we would not work without you as the glue holding us together. We don't want anyone else, we want you.” He said, gazing down at you with such an intense look you couldn’t avert your own eyes from his. Eris nodded in agreement.

“And you're very sexy.” He said. Azriel rolled his eyes.

“Your lovely High Lord’s brain is scrambled, care to look after him for me, clearly I have a more important job now.” You furrowed your brow and he elaborated, “Making you feel as good as you look, Sweetheart.”

You gave him a doe eyed look, not used to receiving so much praise at once, but also recognising a direct order when you heard one. You felt silly for raising your insecurities when you could have been having mind-blowing sex instead, but Azriel’s gentle kiss against your lips before you descended your mouth onto Eris’ cock gave you the reassurance you needed. He heard you. He cared. 

Eris let out a very un-high-lord-like squeak as your tongue swirled around the head of his length, quickly devolving into open mouthed panting. Azriel snorted. 

“As if you would think you don’t fit with us. Poor poor Eris, her tongue is a sinful thing isn’t it baby?”

You couldn’t laugh around Eris, but your amused hum had his hips bucking hard, Azriel pumped his own length at the sight and gave a rare look of pained pleasure as he hissed at the contact. 

“Been wanting to do this since you suffocated me in those delicious thighs.” He said with a twinge of desperation, sinking deep into your soaked entrance. You were filled from every direction, spitroasted between your lovers, and loving every second. Your mind quietened, focused solely on the pleasure of your lovely males and of course, the soft roll of your own that crept into your belly with every roll of Azriel’s hips. 

He was uncharacteristically soft and you were about to pull off Eris to ask him to hurry when his hands buried into the soft flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises, and he slammed back in with the force of a male desperate to come. You moaned gutterally around Eris’ cock, and were almost gagged by his responding thrust. 

“Oh fuck, oh f-fuck, fuck.” Eris whines, losing any decorum as he buried his hands in your hair and came hard down your throat. You swallowed it all, licking up the drips that dribbled from his length after you had pulled away. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

Azriel was pounding deep inside of you, his shadows swirling frantically around his hips. You always wondered if they shared in his pleasure. You let out a closed mouthed whine, burying your face in Eris’ stomach as you surrendered to your pleasure. You were nearing the peak, legs shaking, but you couldn’t fall over the edge without more. Eris leaned down without needing to be asked, knowing what you wanted. His hand snaked underneath you and pressed down on your clit. You ground into his fingers desperately as you chased the feeling that was now in reach. Clenching around Azriel in harsh waves, you released. The pressure turning to toe-curling relief. Azriel growled as the tightness of your pussy milked his own orgasm from him, his hips jerking erratically until he was completely spent. 

The three of you cosied up, with you cocooned between them, Azriel’s hand stroking your hair softly whilst Eris seemed to fall into a light sleep against your shoulder. Your chest loosened as you realised. It was the three of you. You belonged.

A/N - Do they have princesses in Prythian?

[redandgreyscale]

Asexual Evan who sexualizes himself, and Barty is the one to let him know that it's okay and he doesn't have to force himself

angst always gets me, ask and I shall deliver✨

They've been dating for a month.

In this month, Barty learns a lot of things about Evan. Barty learns Evan likes to tease, learns the way his body moves when he's flirting, the tone on his voice, every single tone of his voice actually. Learns his nervous tics and the way he snorts if he laughs too hard. Barty feels unable to do anything other than look at Evan at all times.

He also learns Evan likes to kiss. He likes to kiss a lot, passionately, all tongue and bites and hands tugging eagerly at hair. Barty loves Evan's hands on his hair. Loves Evan's lips on his. Fuck, Barty feels like he could eat Evan whole with how much he loves him. Devour him until there's nothing left.

They haven't gone anywhere further than kissing though, and fuck if he isn't dying to get Evan naked on his bed. So he tries.

It is a good night, they had easy classes, a good studying session, and are currently making out in Barty's bed. Things get weird the moment he takes Evan's shirt after his own. He knows Evan, has learnt every single thing about him, and something is off. The eagerness on his kisses is different, less passionate even if as intense. He isn't actively seeking contact anymore, just taking it. His gasps sound false suddenly, so Barty reels back and looks at him.

Evan looks as perfect as always, like a fucking angel fallen from heaven right into his bed. His breathing hard and his bare chest sweaty.

"Why'd you stop?" he asks confused, and Barty only looks at him for a bit.

"Is everything okay? Do you want to keep going?" He asks back, because one can never be too sure, and he's not about to fuck up their first time. They're laying side by side looking at each other, still in a tangle of limbs. Evan's brows shoot up in disbelief.

"What do you think?" He asks with a smile, a hand tangling in Barty's hair. It doesn't look like his smiles. This is— no, something's definitely wrong. It feels like an ick he can't quite scratch.

"I don't know, that's why I asked" he stops Evan from pulling him closer. Keeps looking at him, trying to find what is going on. Then, Evan's jaw clicks, and Barty knows immediately. He knows because he's spent their last month, fuck, their last years, learning every single movement on Evan's body. He's not answering, so Barty talks again "you don't want it" he tries to reel back, and is fastly drawn back closer.

"No, I— I can do it, I can do this for you" Evan's behaviour changes so suddenly it feels like whiplash. He sounds almost desperate "I can be good for you come on, take me, take what you want" Evan's mouth is on his, then on his neck, and for a second he gets distracted again because fuck that feels good, but soon enough he pushes him back again.

"No, hey, Ev" Barty tries. Evan is a mess of mumbles.

"I'll be good, I can do it" he repeats grabbing at Barty through wet eyes. Oh. Oh hell no.

"Evan" he tries, and Evan only becomes more eager, climbing on top of him, unbuttoning his jeans "Evan stop" his hands come to grab his. Then Evan looks at him, really looks at him. "I don't want this if you don't"

"I thought I—"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to" Barty assures, and finally the tears come. He lets go of Evan's hands and watches as he tries to hide his face away, still sitting on top of him.

It takes a while to calm down, and by the time it happens they're both sitting cross legged each on one end of the bed, facing the other.

"I don't... I don't like sex" Evan says when asked.

"Okay" Barty simply says "then we won't do that" Evan looks up, brows furrowed, pained look on his eyes.

"Barty, I won't like it, never have wanted it and I don't think I ever will"

"It's fine, then we'll never have sex" he shrugs. It's okay, he only wants Evan if he wants it too. "But, uhm, you've had other partners, right? Did you..?"

"Yeah, and I hated every part of it" Evan admits looking away. Barty feels the need to kill every single one of his ex's.

"You don't have to do that with me, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to" Evan looks even more confused than before "We don't have to kiss if you don't like it either"

"No, I— Uhm... I like that" his cheeks are turning red, his smile coming back, and this time Barty believes him. "I like it a lot, actually"

"Great because I like that too. A lot." Barty smiles back.

And maybe there is a lot to talk about, a lot of lines to mark down so they aren't crossed, but for now they lay in bed and kiss.

A lot.

[mochinomnoms]

How would ptm jade react if Yuu told him about marine mushrooms?

I only know what wikipedia knows about marine mushrooms...unfortunately for yuu mind reading doesn't give them sudden infinite knowledge!

“You know, with as much as you...like mushrooms and stuff, I'm surprised you haven't mentioned anything about marine fungi.”

You felt a chill run down your spine and Jade's bi-colored eyes on you.

“Pardon?” Does my darling also love fungi? How could I have not known this?

You shifted in your seat, staring down at your notebook as you doodles between the margins. A small button mushroom that you'd absentmindedly drawn minded you of Jade.

And you just happened to be doing research with him for your group project in the library this day.

“Sorry, I just was thinking about it, and it's just surprising to me that you never had, like an aquarium type terrarium or something with them.”

You let out a nervous laugh, after all, it was just you two by yourselves. Riddle and Yev were busy with their dorms due to the Spelldrive Tournament, and your dorm still didn't technically qualify, since all your freshmen were officially in other dorms.

Such a wonderful laugh, I'd like to hear it more...

“Well, to my knowledge, they don't exist.” Jade leaned in, his eyes wide and full of excitement. “By chance, do such mushrooms exist in your world?”

Please tell me more! Tell me lies for all I care, so I may hear your voice...though you wouldn't lie about such things, would you?

You perked up. It was rare that you knew something Jade, or anyone at NRC, had no clue about. It probably wasn't intentional, but the way people would look at you when you had no clue about something make you feel dumb, even though you logically had no way of knowing even the most basic things of this world.

It was kinda nice to be the one to share knowledge with another person.

“Well, I don't know a lot, but they mostly exist in marine environments. I think a few hundred?” You leaned in closer, moving your notebook towards Jade as you started drawing again.

“I can't remember their names very well, but I've always been a more visual person anyways.” You drew a piece of driftwood, a snail, and a rock covered in lichen.

“This one grows in mangroves, usually on the places. But this one grows around the shell of a snail, who eats it. And sometimes lichen will grow with fungi, but I don't know a whole lot about them.”

You paused, pursing your lips in disappointment.

“Sorry, I don't know enough to tell you about them, I know how much you...”

Your words trailed off as you looked back up at Jade, who was resting his check against his palm. He was staring at you with faint smile, and soft, half lidded eyes and pink cheeks.

So beautiful...

Cheeks and chest going hot, you stared back, opening and closing your mouth as you tried to figure out how to respond.

“Uh, Jade, you're, uh, staring...”

Jade stiffened, straightening up and covering his mouth in embarrassment.

“My apologies. I was just....enraptured by your descriptions.” And you. “I don't mind that you aren't familiar, but I would like to heard more from you about marine fungi. Perhaps you can tell me all about your world's plant life? It never occurred to me that your world would evolve differently, but saying that now, it seems obvious.”

He smiled at you again, his teeth showing a bit more as he excitedly leaned in.

“You struggle in musicology, yes? Perhaps in exchange for your knowledge, I can help you with practice?”

Please say yes!

You paused. Various suggestive scenarios that seem more apt for a risqué site or story flashed through Jade's mind in giddy anticipation.

You know better. You know what Jade's hoping for. You shouldn't string him along, you're going to get embarrassed. You're going to get uncomfortable, you're...

Another daydream, one of you two curled over a book, as you leaned into Jade's side while his arm pulled you closer, invaded your mind like a parasite in your brain. He had a tender smile as you laughed at something he said, your free hand reached up to cradle his cheek.

Maybe parasite is a harsh word. When the thoughts Jade had were so sweet and soft, it almost made you want to give in.

Almost.

“It's okay, I'm just a choir member, so there's not much for me to improve on.” You could hear your more logical voice sigh in the back of your mind. “But I'm happy to share...if you help me figure out if the mushrooms growing behind Ramshackle are edible.”

I'm weak…

Jade blinked, processing what you said.

Really? “Really?” Even Jade seemed like he was anticipating your rejection.

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, Jade's internal excitement flooding into your subconscious and influencing your own emotions. “Means less money to spend on food, and I'm sure you know plenty of yummy recipes we can use if they do end up good!”

Jade rarely smiled, at least not genuine, bare-teethed smiles. Despite the sharpness of them, you weren't put off by them, or him, at all.

“I would be honored.”

[icycoldninja]

Haven't asked you for a fic since... God, when was the last time I asked that? Anyways, hope you're doing well and had a great Valentine's Day (I know I'm a month late)

Anyway, preamble over. Can I ask for an ADHD male painter!reader x Sparda boys (including Nero) head canons?

:3 thankies

Sure! Sorry this is so late. As for my Valentine’s Day, well, seeing as I'm still single, it was like any other day to me. I did take advantage of those sales on candy. 😄

Sparda boys + ADHD!Otaku!Painter!Male!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante has never been good at art, unless you count the messy, stained fingerprint paintings he did when he was 4.

-He sees you doing it, though, and he thinks you're awesome for it. He would love to have your talents, and while it would be fun to teach him, he should never be left in the same room as a paint bucket alone. The aftermath is horrifying.

-He knows you sometimes get distracted from your work, so every now and then he pops in to deliver snacks, pep talks, and shoulder rubs for when you get all stiff from hunching over your desk.

-He knows you're an Otaku and he wishes he could buy you all the merchandise related to franchises you like, but he's damn broke, so no chance of that.

-Proudly covers every surface of his room in the artworks you gifted him. He would decorate the entirety of Devil May Cry too, but he's worried clients will still them when he's not looking.

-Has a jar of stickers in the kitchen. Every time you finish a project, you're allowed to take one and do whatever you want with them. It's a great reward systrm.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil is the personification of pride whenever you mention anything remotely related to your artistic endeavors.

-If there was an Olympic sport for artists, he would be standing in the front row, chanting your name like he's trying to summon the spirits of the dead right there in the arena.

-Happily displays every piece you give him, be it oil painting or charcoal sketch, on the fridge, stacking some on top of others until neither of you are sure where the edges of the fridge actually are.

-He rewards your accomplishments with little trinkets relating to your favorite anime and manga. Before you know it, you've amassed a collection large enough to require an entire dedicated room.

-Vergil will also MOTIVATES you to continue working on illustrations you may have given up on or forgotten about by making Berried Delight for you, which he will only allow you to eat in small spoonfuls; one for every 5 lines drawn.

-This sounds harsh, but it works well sometimes—very well—and during those rare scenarios when it doesn't, kisses make for a great substitution.

□ Nero □

-Being one who appreciates the arts, (if you can call metal an art form) Nero is proud of you and your drawings.

-He thinks it's real cute whenever you sketch or paint him, which is often, and folds up the ones he likes the most so he can keep them in his wallet.

-He would die of embarrassment if his uncle, dad, or Nico found out about that, so please don't mention it around them, unless of course you want to mortify him.

-Somehow always has a supply of candy that he uses to lure you out of you room to spend some time with him by making a trail out of them like Hansel and Gretel did in the fairytale.

-Knows you are an Otaku and won't shame you for it. Sure, it's a little unsettling to hear you ramble on about the laws of some universe he's not aware of or divulge some extremely personal facts about a person he doesn't think is real, but it's adorable anyway.

-Will never understand why you have 400 different figurines of the same people, but won't react beyond shaking his head at it all.

[majestyeverlasting]

A Little Less Restless

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I haven't posted any new writing in a bit, and it feels good to be resolving that (yay me). Please enjoy this piece I wrote today. Lot's of fluff and very obvious feelings. It's been a while since I wrote something for him. <3

Three knocks sound on Bucky’s front door as his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom. He's leaning close to the mirror in careful criticism. Enough to see the green flecks in his irises. The freckles on his cheeks from being in the sun. The pricks of hair making up his scruff. Then he eases back and squares his shoulders. They fall after he releases a breath. 

He prays he doesn’t look as restless as he feels. 

The smile you give him when he answers the door carries a warmth he isn’t sure he deserves. But he takes it because that’s all he can do. Enjoy it like a man who’s been cold his whole life. By some miracle, he feels himself smiling back in that small, weighted way of his. It was a trade off of sorts, and now you’re even. No outstanding debts. 

He motions you inside with a soft please, and you study him once you’re in the foyer. In the few seconds that you’re silently observing, Bucky wishes he knew exactly why. As tender as your gaze is, heat was already rising to his cheeks. But like everything else when it comes to you, he takes it. Looks right back at you shyly, pushes his hands into his pockets, and waits. 

“Your hair’s shorter,” you finally say, smile growing wider. “Did you cut it?” 

“Cut it,” he repeats like a question, hands moving to run through it. The previous night creeps back to the forefront of his mind. 

When he’d gone for a walk to get some air and inadvertently found himself being drawn in by the red, white, and blue barber’s pole spiraling on the next block. It’d been ages since he’d gone to a professional, but walking inside to the faint scent of tobacco and aftershave made him feel as though he’d never stopped. 

“Mhm,” you hum, certain. 

The stumped look on his face vanishes like it was never supposed to be there. “I went and got it trimmed at a place called Ricky’s last night.” 

“And you forgot that quickly?” Next thing he knows, you’re wrapping him in an embrace, peeking up at him after a few seconds, “I’m teasing.” 

He squeezes you back tighter. 

It’s you who eventually pulls away, and he finds himself trailing you as you venture deeper into his apartment, eyes roving thoughtfully. A coffee table now complements the couch in the living room. The walls are no longer bare. At long last, the space was beginning to look more like a home. 

For the longest time, Bucky had only seen it as a place to rest his head after countless assignments that took him miles away. It didn’t need to be anything special, or so he thought. One of the first things you told him upon coming into his life was that he needed a constant. A place to come back to that he could make his own. That was his. He’d spent so much of his life serving other people and belonging to other people that he was finally learning what it meant to be his own. 

It was exhausting not being halfway across the world with a task to busy his mind. Brooklyn was still in comparison. A place where he could recognize street names, faces, point out buildings that used to be something else when he was a kid. And now there was you, who made being stateside worthwhile in a way he didn’t think was possible. He realized then, how much he’d deprived himself of meaningful connections outside of work. 

“It looks great in here, Buck. What’d I tell you?” Your earnesty is genuine. Makes him, as old and borderline cynical as he is, feel special. “You’re gonna have to start inviting me over more.” You shoot him a wink, and he freezes because of the weight of the implication. If you notice, you don’t say anything. 

A few months ago you’d been strangers crossing paths. Then acquaintances. Now friends who cared about each other a whole awful lot. Only, it was more obvious on your end. He kept most of his sentiments guarded, not yet ready for them to bleed out like an open wound. It didn’t help that you were always wielding a knife, coming closer and closer to cut through the wall he built around himself. 

“You can come over whenever you want,” he says. “I’m always here.” 

“When you’re not on assignment,” you add. “And I know. I just don’t want to scare you away.” 

Bucky frowns at the suggestion, but his lips eventually turn up. “Good thing you’re not a scary person,” he says, counting on earning a laugh. Something. 

And you do, right before shaking your head. “I’m serious.” 

“You couldn’t scare me away,” he assures. 

You nod slowly. “So how’ve you been?” There’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue, so he waits it out. It ends up punching him right in the gut. “You look…I don’t know.” 

It hadn’t been all too long since he’d come back from Morocco. Only a week. And it would be a while before he was sent out anywhere else. His mind was in the constant process of drifting to the type of thoughts all men sifted through when they have nothing but time. Those regarding purpose, belonging, and meaning. Not to a deep, crippling degree, but enough to make him want to spring into some sort of action. Find something to indulge in that wasn’t saving the world. 

Bucky swallows and shifts his weight. “Restless,” he offers. “Didn’t think you’d notice.” 

“I’ll always notice.” Silence stretches between the two of you and a siren wails in the distance. “Maybe we can go out tonight, just you and me. Is that something you’d wanna do?” The question sounds shy. 

What you didn’t know quite yet is that he’d probably do just about anything if it was with you. 

***

At the end of the night, it’s Bucky who pulls out his card and pays for dinner. Not even giving you the chance to think about digging into your purse. As an old tune continues playing overhead, your grateful eyes sparkle at him from across the table. 

Neither of you had dined here before. It’s one of the places Bucky said used to go by a different name and was run by a different family, Italians. You liked listening to him talk about what once was because it made you realize just how much he knew. Just how thoughtful and reverent he was when it came to the good memories he had. 

Being listened to so intently was new for him. But he enjoyed it. Especially when you’d ask questions or bring up a point he made further back in the conversation. By the time the waiter comes back around with his card and his copy of the receipt, the two of you are basking in the memory of the evening and thinking about what the rest of the night may hold. 

“This was really nice,” he says, folding his napkin and setting it aside on the table. Then his expression becomes consumed by a certain solemness. “I don’t know how well it comes across, but I need you to know that I appreciate you. A lot.”

Your heart nearly bursts. “I know, Bucky,” you promise. He still looks unconvinced, so you extend your hand face up on the table for him to take. “I know.” 

The cab ride back to his place is quiet. You hold onto his hand the whole way, relishing the feeling of his thumb tracing back and forth over your skin. It’s a gesture that says I’m here with, I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me. Brooklyn passes by in rushes of darkness peppered with light. Pedestrians walk alongside the streets, some holding hands just like the two of you. It isn’t long before the driver pulls up alongside the curb of the complex. 

It isn’t until you’re in the elevator that you’re sure that you want to stay. 

The two of you get off at the fifth floor. 

“Is it okay if I spend the night? If not, I completely understand. I know it’s such short notice,” you ramble as he’s turning his key into the door. He hopes you don’t notice the way he falters. But part of him knows you do. You don’t miss anything. Luckily for him, you’re just as fazed by your own question, holding your breath. 

It’s not until you’re inside that he graces you with an answer, “‘Course you can.”

Your shoulders drop in relief. What you’re not expecting is the laugh he tries to bite back. Maybe it was mean of him, but he liked knowing he could make you sweat. Sometimes it seemed like it was only ever you who made him openly anxious. 

“You’re terrible,” you accuse, failing at restraining a smile. “Absolutely horrible.” You’d forgotten to throw away an empty water bottle before you left, and it’s the closest thing you’re able to throw his way in retaliation. He catches it and tosses it in the trash himself. 

Mischief written all along his smile when he starts towards you. 

Partly scared and partly excited, you think to flee at the last second. After a few measly steps, you’re being pulled back into the firmness of his chest. He’s sure enough laughing now, the vibration rushing straight into your back right along with the warmth of his body. So are you. He only has one arm secured around your waist and, despite the fact that he’s not even trying, it's enough to hold you. 

“Wait, wait, wait—hold on a second!” your words come out giggly both because you’re anticipating some sort of attack, and because he’s never held you quite like this before. Unlike a normal hug, this feels like he has you rather than you having each other. It’s vulnerable. Dizzying. 

“You win, you win!” 

“What?” he laughs in surprise. His mouth is so close to your ear that you shiver. “Thought you had more fight in you than that,” there’s a playful warmth to his words. 

You shake your head in denial and relax back into him. You didn’t stand a chance of winning unless he let you, and you were more than willing to tap out early. Because even so, you were still in his arms at his mercy, and somehow that felt like the safest place to be. By the time you realize both of your laughter has faded to a thoughtful silence, he’s pressing a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear. 

When he lowers his arm from around your waist, you turn around to face him. 

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. He suddenly looks boyish, younger. Having crawled out of whatever shell of crushing expectation and responsibility he usually resided within. 

When he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, his shoulders relax and his breaths slow. And for once, he indulges. In you. In the prospect of having someone to lean on and being leaned on in return. It’s a reminder that he’s allowed to experience nice things. To have a life to look forward to outside of lending himself to cause after cause. 

You’re soft, and warm, and everything good a person could be. He pulls away slowly after a while, blinking down at you with heavy eyelids. You’re looking right back at him like he’s the world itself. 

“Maybe you’re not so terrible,” you whisper, smiling. 

Of everything he was feeling now, restless wasn’t one of them. 

_

Thank you so much for reading! I promise I see every like, comment, and reblog and appreciate them all very much. 

To join my “taglist,” follow @taleseverlasting

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[wosostories]

Heath Sisters PT 10 (USWNT x Teen!Reader)

Masterlist Heath Sisters Master List

USWNT X Teen!Reader

Note: Once again anything that may sound believable is completely made up.

When dinner finally rolls around Tobin carries Y/N to the meeting room on her back. They aren't the first to arrive, but they still beat out most of the team. 

Tobin gets them both plates and Y/N kept her head down just taking more notes. She wants to get them done so she can share them with Becky. 

Becky and Abby silently join their table along with Ali and Christen taking up the last of the seats. 

Alyssa Neaher: 2nd Keeper in line up. Moves well on the line and reads the game very well. Quick reaction times. Communicates well with the back line in order to keep the game in hand. Need to see more. (Would like to see her start a game this camp).

Cristen Press: Forward, Always looking for the cross, prefers the ball at her feet. Has a cutback move that leaves defenders on their knees even if they know it's coming. Could work on making it quicker to give her more time and space on the strike. Need to see more. 

Becky Sauerbrunn: Center back, captian, leader on the pitch and has a great read on what needs to happen. Helps direct play. Is not inclined to make a goal scoring oppertunity for herself. Always looking for the pass. At least one time this was the wrong move during practice. Need to see more. 

'That makes sense for a center back.' Y/N thinks to herself. 'But…'

"Becky?" Y/N asks quietly.

"Yeah what's up?"

"Do you not like scoring?"

Becky tilts her head in thought. "It's not that I don't like it, I just don't see the need to. That's the forwards and midfields job not mine."

"Would you take the shot if it meant winning the game?"

"Of course I would."

"Then you need to practice." 

The whole table freezes, but it only takes second before Abby bursts out laughing. 

"Wh-what's so funny?"

"Wonder Kid she's never going to need to make a shot to win a game. Do you know what the odds of that are?"

"A lot higher than you think."

Abby freezes, "Wait are you saying you know the odds?"

"Not exactly cause I haven't read the latest stat report from last year yet, but you don't know it's the game winning shot until the final whistle blows. And on top of that every goal in every game made by both teams is important not just the final one."

"So you're saying that I need to score more."

Y/N shakes her head, "Not necessarily, you just need to know when it is better to take the shot then it is to make the pass. I know you know how, you do it occasinally for your club teams and you did it in college."

"So take shots but not score? I think you're losing me kid."

Y/N turns to the last page in her notebook and sketches out half the field. Then she draws 11 x's that represent the USWNT and 10 o's that represent the defenders. 

"This was the set up today during one of your scrimages. Becky had the ball and did a long pass up to Kelley on the sideline. Kelley was then aproched by a defensive player. When she tried to go around another was waiting to pick up the pass Kelley made to herself. She was too close to the sideline and there looked like their was enough space so she took the inside path. This led to a turnover, and while you guys eventully got the ball back it was time wasted.

"If Becky had cut in more and at least acted like she was going to take a shot, she likely would have drawn that second defensive player to her in central field. That way when the pass was made to Kelley she would have been able to get further up the field without turning over the ball. She also could have just been further up the field altogether when she recived the ball. 

"Everyone knows you don't take many shots yourself and that you always look for the cross or pass, so even if it is subconscience they leave you with more space and instead stay a little closer to the girl likely to get the pass. In this case Kelley."

"So you're saying I need to act like a decoy."

Y/N bounces her head side to side, "I guess in a way that's what I'm saying. But you still have to take the shot sometimes otherwise we run in to the problem all over again just a little further down the field. But you still have to be smart about it. Don't just go sending shots towards net that have no hope of going in."

"Alright then no one say anything about this and we can try it at practise tomorrow." 

"You'll probably mess it up the first time, but you'll get it. There will be more defenders on you when you make the pass so just ready for that and don't worry to much if you lose the ball the first time or two you try it."

"Good to know. Thanks Kid."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning they are back on the pitch and just as Y/N said the first time they try Becky loses the ball. Everyone thinks that it's a fluke and Becky lost track of her positioning on the field. But then it happens again and this time she is succsessful in getting the ball to Tobin's feet. Tobin then cuts in a little more just as her sister sugested yesterday and sends the cross into Abby who manages to put it in the back of the net. 

It's not quite as clean as I was when Y/N demonstrated it the day before, but it worked and that's all that matters. 

Tobin looks up with a smile on her face and the three of them share a knowing look with one another before running over to Y/N who is watching from the sidline. 

Tobin picks her up and spins her around. 

"What do you know the Wonder Kid was right." Becky says with a grin. 

"I mean she never gave us a reason to doubt her did she?" Abby adds. 

"You are a genius kid, an absolute fucking genius." 

[captain-huggy-bear]

Heyy congrats on 1000!!!! 🎉

Can I request “ibuprofen and a red bull is not breakfast.” w/ kess or kells please 🙏

As a uni student with exams next week I feel this quote in my bones, this blog and red bulls have been the only thing keeping me sane. ❤️

This is super late after you sent it, but I hope the exams went well in the end and that you're doing much better now they're over! 1000 Followers Celly Finished Requests are currently closed while I work through current ones <3 Writing Masterlist

You know you've not been looking after yourself particularly well...you know that, but you don't have a choice. Between long evenings marking exam papers to parental meetings and phone calls you just haven't had the time to eat properly, to look after yourself. You're too tired to...and that even goes for your weekends.

You'd woken up Saturday morning with the sort of migraine that meant you just wanted to die. When you weren't hiding away in your dark bedroom, curtains drawn, face pressed under your pillows, you were hanging over the toilet feeling like you were going to be sick from the visual disturbances and light distortions you were going through.

Your breakfast? 2 Ibuprofen and a can of Red Bull that you'd thought would kick the migraine, and only served to have your blood pumping anxiously and you feeling even sicker.

Clay's been busy lately just like you have, various charity dinners, hospital visits and then a few road games to add on top. He'd been unable to come by, to check on you for about a week, and text messages and the odd phone call didn't really cut it...not when he missed you.

It's how he finds himself letting himself into your house, toeing off his shoes, padding through until he stops in the kitchen frowning at the empty packets of ibuprofen, the cans of Red Bull, the snack bar wrappers left on the side.

You're usually pretty tidy, rarely leaving empty wrappers or cans around. You're also not a massive fan of energy drinks nor do you usually take painkillers unless you have a particularly bad migraine. All combined it causes a pit of worry to form in his stomach.

"Baby? You in?" The lights are off in most of the house and he makes his way up the stairs following the sound of your groaned out 'in here'. Your bedroom door is closed, no light coming out from underneath and when he finally opens the door you whine a little at the sudden flood of light from the hallway.

Clay's quick to shut the door behind him, taking in the scene. Your curtains are drawn, the room as dark as you could get it. You are huddled under your duvet, out of sight as you burrow deep to avoid as much as light as possible. Your fan is on, cool air blasting directly on the pile of bedding that you'd become and you don't even leave your cocoon to greet him.

Clay's careful as he sits on the edge of the bed, hand reaching into the pile of bedding until his finger tips brush against your hair, pushing the strands back gently.

"You okay, baby?"

"Migraine." You don't expand, simple, effective, pained and he makes a sympathetic sort of shushing sound because while Clayton doesn't get them he's seen you deal with them before. You often end up being violently sick and knocked out for the count.

"Have you eaten anything today?" His fingers are cool against your skin which is overheated as he tucks some hair behind your ear. You're still not looking at him, eyes scrunched, forehead pressed firmly into the mattress beneath you. You feel like if you look at anything right now you'll be sick.

"Mmmm..." You groan because a cereal bar counts right? Not the Clay believes you, if you'd actually eaten he'd have seen plates or evidence of cooking.

“Ibuprofen and a red bull is not breakfast.”

"I thought it would help..." You turn just enough to blink up at him, all pathetic and needy, pout on your lips as your cheek presses into the mattress. Clay's fingers sweep down your cheek, his smile sympathetic.

"Did it?"

"No...feel so much worse." You instantly regretted it and it reminds you that you're not some 18 year old who can just down energy drinks and painkillers and hope it'll be a miracle cure. Your body is older now and it demands proper food and nourishment.

"Oh, sweet girl...wait here, yeah? I'm going to get you some food and some water."

When Clay moves to stand your hand finds his wrist, tugging him back lightly.

"Feel sick, don't want to eat." The idea of eating anything right now is actually the worst, you're almost certain that a single piece of food would have you throwing up.

"I know, but if you don't eat something you'll feel worse, okay? When did you last take some ibuprofen?" Clay's determined to get you to eat something, even if it's a slice of buttered toast and nothing more substantial or complicated.

"8..."

"Okay, I'll get you some more, okay? Or maybe some aspirin, that usually works better right?" He has some distant memory of you asking him to buy aspirin once, saying it was better for your migraines than ibuprofen or paracetamol.

"Don't have any..." You'd used your last up in your last migraine a few months back and had forgotten to buy some more, leaving you with subpar painkillers and an inability to look at any sort of light.

"Good thing I've got some in my car, huh?" His fingers scratch at the base of your scalp, threading through your hair as you blink up at him with a wet but grateful smile.

"I love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart." You wince, eyes blinking shut as the next wave of your migraine hits, double chin on show as you pull your head back at the feeling of nausea rolling through you. "Just stay here, baby, I'll be right back."

He's quick or as quick as he can be. Aspirin acquired, toast made and buttered, just the right level of golden brown, not too crunchy and not too anaemic for your tastes, a big glass of water to go with it.

You're reluctant to do anything but let him help you sit up and down the aspirin with big glugs of water. It's a little harder to get you to eat, but once you start, that first bite of buttery goodness on your tongue, you're all in. You eat the toast so quickly that he has to go and get you some more, your appetite finally kick started.

"Anything else I can do?" He asks once you've had your fill of toast, you look so tired like you might pass out any minute, but he's just relieved you've actually eaten something more than a stale cereal bar.

"Hold me?"

That's easy for Clay. It's easy to shove his cap off and throw it on the side. Easy to slide into bed next to you, easy to pull you into him and let you burrow your face into his chest, easy to hold you and comfort you, be there for you so that you don't feel so alone. Holding you has always been one of the easiest things you could ask of him, more of a pleasure than a favour. It's easy for him.

For you? For you it's everything though. The comfort of being held after feeling like you might die all day, the smell of Clay's cologne that brings you the sort of comfort you can't explain, the warmth of his chest underneath your forehead...just having him there at your worst is everything.

[andcars]

# 𝗖𝗟𝟭𝟲 ─── FOUND FOOTAGE MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

A TAPE HAS BEEN FOUND online. surprisingly, it features f1 driver charles leclerc and a faceless woman. they're caught in a rather compromising situation. ────── original prompt req.

PROMPTED DIALOGUE . . . # “Mommy… it’s my first time so please–!!” + "You wanted to be seen? You wanted to be caught? You're so fucking turned on right now." PROMPTED TAGS . . . # femdom, thigh fucking, leaked sex tape, anal sex, cum Play ADD. TAGS . . . # light bdsm, chained, degradation kink, praise kink WORD COUNT. . . # 1.4k

────── AO3 VERSION

The camera is perfectly still. It captures two bodies, with one tied to the bed and the other on top. From this angle, you can barely see their faces. Yet they can see Charles'. He's breathing heavily, eyes unfocused, but staring right at you. There's drool dribbling down his mouth, completely fucked out of his head even if he still has his clothes on. Though you can clearly see his cock pulled out of his pants, yearning for attention.

He tugs on his restraint. You move on top of him, taking your clothes off while swaying your body. He grunts. Charles' mouth drops open as you throw away the rest of your clothes.

"Amor (love)," he mouths. You don't say anything else as you lean in to kiss him passionately. It's sloppy, the camera catches all of his moans and whines. His hips move uselessly. You sit between his thighs, pulling his legs open with a quick push. He arches unexpectedly.

When you pull away, his head falls back, mumbling something unintelligent. You hear him. Pulling down his pants to his knees, he looks at you again. His eyes are glossy and starry. He's begging. No words, not a single sound out of him; his lips are pouted and quivering as he asks you to give him what you want.

"Stop looking at me like that," you finally say, voice low as your hands cover his ass. "You're so needy. So fucking stupid looking like that, baby."

He moans. "Mhm, yeah. Sorry, Mommy."

His cock twitches as the words leave his mouth. He whines when you realise it too. "I'm… But I've been so good, haven't I? So can I please.. ah—"

The only sounds that come out of him are drawn out moans as you stroke his cock with a pace. He's quivering under your touch. You laugh softly as cum dribbles out of his cock already. "You like that, baby?" you coo, going down to lick at the head.

"Yes, Mommy," he gasps. "Love it. Love it so-o-o much!" he thrusts his hips as you envelop the head. "Momm… So good. Fuck~…"

You don't take more than an inch. The rest of his cock is played by your hands. Your tongue swirls as lewd slobbering leaves your mouth. With each sound, he's moaning your name a little louder. He's completely under your control. He's completely out of it.

Pulling him out of his mouth, you put little kisses on the head. The cum drips down his shaft and stains on the bed. You ask him, "You're so dirty, Charles, you know that?"

"Hm..?" he looks at you, biting his lips.

"Yes you are, baby," your tongue pushes against his slit, making him cry out. "You wanted to be recorded. You wanted the whole world to see you like this?" He nods his head, trying to hold back a moan as you continue teasing him. You laugh as you lick down the trail of cum on his cock, " You're such a dirty little slut."

The lube by your side is warm. You pour it down his cock and down to his hole. The sensation sends a shiver. "O-oh…" he looks down, tugging on his restraints. "Now? We're… we're doing that now?"

"Do you not want to?" your finger brushes against his rim, his thighs instinctively closing. You keep it open with one hand. "Tell me, baby. Don't you wanna try to feel good like I do? Don't you wanna make everyone see how good you can take me?"

Like the temptress snake, he is utterly under your whims. He nods his head, forcing himself to open his legs more. "Okay," he says. "I.. Just be gentle, Mommy. It's my- it's my first time—agh~!"

He writhes on the bed as you fuck a finger in him. The stretch is small, and yet it catches him off guard. His chest heaves up and down. Charles tries to get used to the feeling as he's uselessly stressing on the bed.

"Calm down, baby," you whisper, pulling yourself up so you sit beside him. You completely cover him on the camera, your back showing instead. There's a clear view of his cock and your finger inside of him. You tell him, "Just calm down, okay? Gotta relax and give mommy time to play with your hole."

His little whines are soon muffled. Though the camera can't see it, they can distinctly hear filthy sucking noises. You're toppling over him, your chest just above his face as you finger him. All of his little noises sound more dreamy and whiny as you inch the second in.

"So good for me," you moan, leaning more over him. "Such a good boy. Such a good boy for taking it all like this."

Charles says something, and you laugh. "Yeah? Next time. I promise I'll fuck you good, okay? Mommy will make sure her baby boy is taken care of."

He nods, a moan suddenly pulling out of you. You turn to look at his hole instead, working himself up even faster. You can feel his body tensing beneath you, the anticipation building as he eagerly takes everything you give him. He pushes back against you, begging for more with each movement.

"Cumming…" he suddenly says, voice unbalanced. He's breathing so heavy. "Mommy, I wanna cum."

"Then go ahead," you say, "make a mess for Mommy, baby. Make yourself all messy."

You watch as his cock spurts out cock himself, his body shuddering with pleasure. As he finishes, you lean down to whisper in his ear, "Good boy. Mommy's so proud of you." His breathing slows down.

"You okay now?" you ask, pulling your fingers out so that you can tease his tip. Your hand makes itself onto his chest and you trace the cum there.

He's emberassed when he talks, "One… just one more. Wanna make you feel good, Mommy."

"So sweet of you, Charlie." You pull away and go in front of him again, sitting on his legs. "So nice for me, yeah? You wanna let Mommy fuck herself on your thighs?"

His eyes light up. Pulling himself up a little, he nods eagerly. "Yes, Mommy."

You straddle him properly, pressing your cunt against his warm thighs. "You think you can fuck Mommy like this or should Mommy move?"

Charles tries it out, moving his leg up and you let out a little moan. He blushes, licking his lips. "I can, but… Mommy can take control. If—if Mommy wants?"

"Okay, baby," you move your hips slowly. His mouth opens in a silent moan, watching you with lust in his eyes. "Mmph… so good. Love how you let Mommy use you like this."

Charles's cheeks flush as he grips your hips, trying to match your rhythm. "I want to make Mommy feel good," he whispers. Both of you move in synbc as your pussy wets his thigh. The glide making it easier as you fuck yourself on him. 

"So good," you moan. "You feel so good… Oh god, baby. S'fucking good for me…"

Both of your hands press against his chest as you grind faster on him. He's watching your expression closely as he stays still. His leg moves occasionally to give you more of a push. With each movement, you moan just a little louder. 

"Close," you breathe out, head rolling back as Charles' matches your pace. You let him take control, letting him help you reach your peak. When you do, your body seizes up as you clench around his thigh. He moans in time with you, feeling pleasure just from seeing you.

When you stop, you take a moment to breathe. He doesn't rush you. Charles lets you move away to unchain him. When he's free, he pushes you back carefully and goes between your legs.

Neither of you says a word as he leans down to lick you clean. Your hand tugs on his hair, yet you don't stop him. One of his hands came up to take some of his own spent on his stomach. He goes up, putting his soiled finger up to your lips. He moans as he watches you eat his cum off his fingers.

A plop comes out of your mouth as you pull away. "Good?"

He doesn't realise you're asking him anything at first, completely fucked out. "Yeah, yeah. M'good."

You chuckle before kissing him. Both his arms wrap around you as he guides you back on the bed, your sweaty bodies on top of each other as you make out noisily.

────── SHORT WHILE LATER. . .

Charles sits slumped on the meeting table. His PR manager screams at him while he's looking elsewhere. He doesn't want to deal with the image of your nude body displayed on the laptop screen.

It's embarrassing, but at least people know he loves you, he guesses.

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . finally another request done! ya'll, i'm trying hard to finish you guys. also i LOVEE sub!drivers so much. people should request them to me more. charles leclerc and max verstappen are literal subs pls request them to be so ˎˊ˗ ᝰ. ──── 📨 @delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @tribbisweetdear @jamie2305

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

[peach-top]

:: 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ::

:: ACT II. | CHAPTER II.

:: UNNAMED HUNTRESS ::

An injured Longan Dragon dropped to their knees as blood began to drip from their head. Their horn had been torn off, painful, yet they were still alive.

The broken horn landed before them, tossed by the equally injured Red Spider Lily, who remained standing while all the other dragons lay wounded from the battle.

“Pathetic. But… I think you amused me the most out of all of them,” Red Spider Lily said, stepping on the broken horn with his heel and crushing it beneath him. He then snatched the floating eye, squeezing it in his grasp. “Erasing all of cookiekind sounds… interesting. The sight of Cookies enjoying their lives, full of warmth and harmony…it makes me sick. I envy them… and I’ll make sure they suffer through my pain.”

“Let's hope to meet again…dragons…” Red Spider Lily crushing the creature, finally making his leave.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

:: present ::

“Fuck…Why does it itch now??” Pitaya Dragon hissed as they scratched their neck where the mark was left behind. They were able to regain their voice and haven't vomited blood or petals ever since Red Spider Lily’s mysterious death.

They froze in place. The feeling…it felt so familiar. The same feeling that they felt thousands years ago, but it's different. Yet again, they don't like this feeling.

“Don't tell me…” Pitaya Dragon's eyes widened with realization. “That bastard is alive…?”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“Beast-Yeast is filled with beasts I've never seen before…” [Y] murmured, gently stroking the fur of one of the creatures. Shadow Milk Cookie observed how naturally the beasts were drawn to the wanderer.

❝you must've had a lot of experience with animals back in the forest, huh?❞ Shadow Milk asked.

“Yeah… They're my family. I miss them.” The wanderer replied, a hint of longing in his voice.

Hovering midair, the spirit of deceit lazily kicked his feet. ❝so... what's your deal with that tree spirit?❞

“Millennial Tree Cookie? We're really close. He saved my life... and gave me my name, [Y].” [Y] answered as butterflies gracefully fluttered around him. “He taught me about the forest and a bit of magic… Wind Archer taught me how to protect the forest as the guardian of the Millennial Forest.”

❝hmph. you spend too much time with him. it's not safe to be around him.❞ Shadow Milk pouted.

“Huh? What do you mean?” [Y] tilted his head.

❝i mean…you might be used by him. he’s probably fooling you with that ‘kind’ smile he has on his face. did he really revive you just so you can get a second chance?❞ Shadow Milk Cookie asked. ❝what if he's lying to you? betrayed you??❞

[Y] clenched his fist over his chest where his heart is located, feeling the ache in his chest.

“S-stop!” an unknown cookie gasped. “This isn’t why I created you—”

RIP!

Shadow Milk Cookie stopped yapping when he noticed the male clenching to his chest as if he was hurting. Except he was hurting. Mentally.

The jester gently placed his hands over [Y]’s, trying to make sure he's alright.

❝are you ok, pookie?❞ Shadow Milk asked softly.

“...” [Y] frowned. “Sorry. It's just the thought of betrayal…suddenly made me feel uneasy.”

“Also…Millennial Tree Cookie wouldn't do anything to betrayed me. He never lied to me. The thought of him betraying me really hurt my feelings. What if you betrayed me one day…?”

Shadow Milk panicked, ❝a-ah! don't think it that way! i didn't mean it to hurt your feelings! i was just joking!❞

“You're lying…” the wanderer shook his head. Shadow Milk looks down at the ground and fiddle his fingers. “But…you're only lying to make me feel better. Thanks. I know you never meant to hurt my feelings.”

This made Shadow Milk Cookie lit up, wrapping his arms around the wanderer, ❝of course, i never meant hurt your feelings! i’ll be careful with my words from now on…❞

“Thank you.” [Y] smiled gently.

❝oh, my pookie. I hope that smile on your face never disappeared!❞ Shadow Milk Cookie cooed, squishing [Y]’s cheeks. ❝as long as you're enjoying your journey, i’ll make sure no one take away that smile from your face…if anyone dare to hurt your feelings, I'LL TERMINATED THEM❞

“Don't take it too far…” the wanderer sweatdropped. “Let us continue our little journey.”

The two continue their journey to leave Beast Yeast. It was quiet until Shadow Milk Cookie break the ice and asked:

❝are you really willing to keep that promise of freeing us? you did kind of lie to everyone in the faerie kingdom…❞

“…” [Y] closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. “Even without the memories of my past life, I still believed it was the right choice to set you all free.”

“My actions may come with consequences… but I don’t regret them. I’ll accept whatever punishment comes for lying and for releasing you from the tree.”

❝…❞

“I want to help all of you find redemption. So we can be together again. I know you went through so much pain that drove you to corruption. But I’ll make sure you never have to suffer like that again. I’ll help you live in peace.”

❝…geez…this is what you like before corruption…? warmth must be your biggest strength. you know how to comfort others around you❞ Shadow Milk Cookie mutter under his breath. ❝how can something so cruel happen to a poor soul like you…?❞

“Huh? Did you say something?”

❝nothing. let's carried on.❞

“???”

“Stay back! Stay back, I say!” a voice shouted from afar.

Shadow Milk can tell that someone may or may not be in trouble and judging by the look on [Y]’s face. He sighed, ❝…you're not actually planning on actually doing what i think you're gonna do.❞

“Can't refuse.” [Y] said, grabbing his bow and arrow before rushing in to help.

❝well, can't stop ya❞ Shadow Milk Cookie shrugged as he followed the wanderer.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

A woman in the hood was holding off the furry beast with her wooden shield to prevent it from hitting her.

“Hahahaha! This is more like it!” The woman grinned, but her grin faltered when she noticed a crack in her shield. “Oh dear…”

WHOOSH

In a swift gust of wind, an arrow pierced the chest of the furry beast, knocking it unconscious. The hooded woman stared at the creature in confusion. She reached out to check if it was dead, but—

“Don't worry. They're just sleeping.” [Y] told the woman, stepping out of the bushes. “Are you alright?”

“Of course. Thank you.” The woman smiled. “How are you able to use your arrow without killing it?”

“Just a little magic. I wouldn't kill animals. That's animal cruelty…” [Y] replied. “This helps calm them down and put them into peaceful sleep.”

“I see! I see! That sounds pretty impressive!” The woman beamed. “What's your name, unnamed traveler?”

“[Y]...” The wanderer introduced himself.

“[Y]? Hm. I felt I've heard that name before…” the woman scratches the back of her head. “[Y]...[Y]...[Y]...Where did I…? Ah!”

The woman pointed her finger at the wanderer, “You're the one Dark Cacao Cookie been talking about! I've heard that you tame the beasts and the Licorice Dragon!”

❝the fuck is her problem?❞ Shadow Milk raised his eyebrows.

“Language…” [Y] whispered, he then spoke out loud, “You know Dark Cacao Cookie. Who are you then, miss?”

“Oh. I'm Holly—ahem…Sweet Pinkberry Cookie.” The huntress introduced herself.

❝bitch’s lying.❞

“What exactly is your real name? I won't tell anyone.” [Y] said.

“...Ah…my name…I guess I should tell you since you're Dark Cacao Cookie’s friend.” The woman sighed. “A friend of his is a friend of mine! I'm Hollyberry Cookie. Pleased to meet you, [Y]!”

“Pleased to meet you too, miss Hollyberry Cookie.” [Y] smiled.

❝yeah, no. i’m going to do what i’m going to do. i’ll be here if you need me, pookie~❞ Shadow Milk placed a kiss on [Y]’s cheek before disappearing.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Nighttime hit, [Y] and Hollyberry seated near the fire, set up by Hollyberry. The furry beast she has fought before, was cuddling with [Y].

“My, the beast seems calmer than before. Thanks to your magic.” Hollyberry smiled.

“So…you and Dark Cacao are friends?” [Y] asked.

“Of course. I'm surprised to hear him making friends with a wanderer like you.” The pink haired female rubbed her chin. “He mentioned you a lot in the letter. That must've meant he likes you a lot.”

[Y] smiled softly, “He seems harsh at first, but he's actually really soft once I get to know him. He gave me a tour around the Black Citadel and told me a few things that I don't know. Like, plants don't grow on the floor. That explains the flowerpot.”

“Affogato taught me how to read and write in normal languages since I only know ancient languages. And I have my first ice cream coffee. It's really delicious.”

“Ah. Dark Cacao taught me how to play Gomoku. It's so confusing that it makes my brain hurt.”

“My. You seem to have a lot of fun~ When we meet again, I'll tease him! Hahahaha!” Hollyberry laughed. “He seems to have some fun as well. Say the guy who does not know how to laugh.”

[Y] tilted his head, “Oh? But he seems to smile and laugh a lot. And I can’t forget how he kissed me. Was that not normal?”

Hollyberry's eyes widened. Her shock expression then slowly turned into a smirk, “Oh-ho~ This is getting interesting. He got some explaining to do.”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“Achoo!” Dark Cacao sneezed.

“Your majesty! Are you sick?” Caramel Arrow frowned.

“No…”

“Perhaps someone's talking about you.” Affogato shrugged.

“No…It's something worse than that…” the king sweatdropped. “And I think I know what…”

╭      ⁞ ❏. trivia

┊      ⁞ ❏. [y] never enjoy the thought of betrayal

┊      ⁞ ❏. the beast cookies are overprotective of [y]

➤ chapter i.

➤ chapter iii.

everytime [y] lies:

-- spoiler under cut --