#on the bright side it was really cost effective to get them done

[advisorsage]

I got my nails done today (this is the only way I can cut them without triggering my ocd to the point of harming myself) and while they are beautiful I have the unfortunate habit of messing up my nails before I even get a mile away from the salon....

I swear they were perfect for a second

[whump-me]

Martyr, Chapter 28: Not Over Yet

Chapter 28 of Martyr, a novel-length sci-fi whump story about a captured Martian rebel with a secret and the renowned interrogator who has waited a decade for the chance to break him. This series is best read in order. Masterpost here.

Contains: whumper POV, restraints, interrogation, aftermath of severe injury, verbal sparring, emotional whump

---

Isadora

“Then your rebellion meant nothing to you?” Isadora asked, testing him, even though he had given her the answer she had expected. “You would abandon it so easily?”

“You’re the one who just got done telling me how stupid it would be for me to go back.”

“Well, yes, but you rebels tend to have more conviction than brains. I’ve talked to a lot of you over the years, and the way you tend to talk, you’d think you were all champing at the bit for the chance to martyr yourselves.”

“The way you did, you mean?”

Why did this man, even now, have the power to ignite a flame of hot anger in her cold center? “Even if I were foolish enough to chase death based on an ephemeral emotion, I have enough brains to know staying alive to fight another day would be far more effective.”

“Oh, really.” Half his lips twisted on one side in a faint, bitter echo of his old grin. “You mean to tell me you haven’t given up anything of yourself for what you believe in? So you were born this way, huh?” He shook his head. “You must’ve been a strange child to raise, if that’s the case.”

The flame of fury grew. She ruthlessly tamped it down. She took a deep breath—in for four, out for four.

She knew why his words got to her the way they did. At this point in the game, it was pointless to deny it. He wouldn’t have been able to get under her skin this way if he weren’t right.

She loosened her hands around the arms of her chair. She hadn’t realized she had tightened them. “We were talking about you,” she reminded him. “If anything you said in our first real conversation was true, you’ve been with the rebellion from the beginning. Even if you’re not as eager to sacrifice yourself as your compatriots, could you really walk away from something you’ve devoted your life to for so long? Was it really only ever about the pull he had over you?”

“That’s a complicated question,” said Wraith. There was no artifice in his voice. Strange as it seemed, she had the impression he was giving her question the consideration it deserved.

At last, he continued. “It wasn’t just about him,” he finally said. “I watched people die, the same as a lot of us did. I was angry. But not everyone who was angry took the route I took. Even before I knew I loved him, I was trying to be what he wanted. If I had, maybe I would have taken some brief futile revenge and flamed out quickly. Or maybe my anger would have burned bright and hot for a while, and then faded away as I let myself forget about those early days. Would that have been better? I don’t know. I’m proud of the work I’ve done, no matter why I did it.”

“You’re proud of the people you killed?” Isadora couldn’t resist cutting in.

At that, he graced her with a cold smile. “I may not be a true believer, but I still take satisfaction in justice. Not to mention revenge. So yes, I am.” Then the smile faded from his face as he continued. “The rebellion would be better off with me, I know that for certain. But let’s be honest—that’s not an option for me anymore, no matter what I want. Even if I were to walk out of here today—and we both know how likely that is—you people would track me right back to them. Back to him. I can’t let that happen.”

“Only if you let them,” Isadora pointed out. “You haven’t kept yourself alive this long by being easy to track.”

He acknowledged her words with a half-shrug. His face showed how much that simple movement cost him. “I could go back. It’s what a true believer would do; it’s what he would do. What you would do, I’m sure. But me? I’ve spent half of the last ten years trying to be everything he wants me to be, and the other half keeping him and everyone he cares about alive by being everything he can’t be. I wouldn’t mind being selfish for once. I’d like to figure out if there’s something else I can love the way he loves the cause. Something—someone, maybe—that would love me back.” He lowered his head. His hair fell across his eyes. “Or at least not break my heart.”

His lips curved in a wry smile. “Not that it matters, because you and I both know I’m going to die here. I’m going to die for him, just like he planned—just like I planned. It’s a shame we only figure these things out after it’s too late, isn’t it?”

An unexpected burst of laughter, sharp and jagged as the shards of ice she could feel snapping loose in her chest, left her lips at that. Wraith’s head jerked up. His eyes went wide. For a second, before he covered it up, pure panic shone in his gaze.

He smoothed out his expression a second later, but a dark glimmer of fear remained. His ragged breathing filled the room, breaking the silence left in the wake of her outburst.

Of course he had reacted that way—he probably thought she was losing control again. And who could blame him? After all, it wasn’t as if he was wrong. The only thing that had been holding her together—the image of the noble crusader she had clung to for so long—was gone. Even she didn’t know what was left.

Wraith stared deeply into her eyes. Whatever he saw there, it intensified the fear on his face, creating lines of tension where none had been a moment ago. But his voice, when he spoke, was weary and resigned. “Get on with it,” he said. “But do me a favor and finish the job this time, will you?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’d rather not damage you all over again. It was hard enough healing you up the first time.”

Wraith didn’t answer for a moment, but the look on his face broadcast his skepticism clearly enough. He watched her without blinking, as if looking away for the slightest fraction of a second would bring her fists raining down on him all over again. Her gut tightened with shame.

Then she took a deep breath, and released the tension with her exhale. The time for shame was done, along with the time for self-deceit. Today, she was trying something new.

A sharp pain shot through her chest as another crack erupted in the ice that had held her together for so long. The pain was all in her head, she knew, but the felt real enough. Under the ice, dark water surged, rippling with emotion she didn’t understand. Was it a good feeling or a bad one? Was this joy she felt in her heart, or dread, or blind panic? Maybe some mix of the three. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“If we’re done talking about the future I’ll never have,” said Wraith, “how about you tell me who won your little game? You did beat me nearly to death. And you’re probably going to do it again. That’s a pretty clear victory for you, I’d say. On the other hand, I made Isadora Pope lose control, which has to count for something.” Unexpectedly, a flicker of his old grin played across the corners of his mouth. “Besides, you didn’t get what you wanted from me. And you won’t.”

“You’re still capable of your old bravado,” said Isadora. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Are you kidding? I don’t have the energy for that. I’m just telling you the truth.”

And she had to acknowledge to herself that it was true. She had never failed to make a prisoner talk— and yet, looking into Wraith’s tired eyes, she knew she would never get the information she wanted from him. Even if she destroyed him utterly, the way she had once planned to. He would take his secrets to his grave.

She wondered how it would feel to love someone like that. Did he feel about this leader of his the way she felt about her duty to Mars? Or did it feel more like the alien surge of emotion that ran through her body when she thought about the thing she had really wanted when she had demanded to come back to this place?

Because it had never really been about saving this benighted rock. It hadn’t been about about preserving Mars’s exports for Earth—who in the world had ever chosen to sacrifice their life for exports? No, she had sacrificed herself for the chance to be more than just one more grunt guarding a factory door. To fight for something greater than herself, like she had dreamed of when she had put on the uniform for the first time—even though back then she hadn’t had words to put to her desire, aside from some impassioned declarations about freedom and justice that made her cringe now. But the underlying desire had never faded.

Huh. Even as empty as she was, it seemed she could still feel something after all.

And yes, she decided as she looked into Wraith’s eyes—what he felt for his leader had to be something like that.

Despite what he had said, despite what she had thought, it looked like the two of them weren’t so different after all.

She didn’t share that thought with him.

He was still watching her, waiting for an answer. “I can’t answer that question,” she said, “because the game isn’t over yet.”

---

Tagged: @straight-to-the-pain @soheavyaburden @gala1981 @whumpacabra @sacredwrath @suspicious-whumping-egg @sonder35 @decahedron-crabclaw @seasaltandcopper @tremendousenemyhideout @bloodinkandashes @whumplr-reader @whatiswhumpblog @delicateprincepaper @sunshiline-writes

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[ketotrimmax]

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[sellmyhomeforcashjacksonville]

Local landlord: overwhelmed with the cost of owning multiple rental properties, but has not raised rent

The current property insurance catastrophe in Florida is a significant issue throughout the state. However, one Jacksonville landlord has informed News4JAX that she has not increased her renters' premiums as a result of the rising expenses. While her property rates have increased by 54 percent, the Landlord, Laura Carriere, is actually giving her renters a discount. The local and state governments must get involved to alleviate the problem, according to realtors. “Consistent increases, when I look at overall, there’s properties that have gone up anywhere from, you know, 10%-12%, two years in a row to this one, which is due this month, went up 54%. Since last year, $683 increase for one property,” Carriere said. Sell My Home Fast Jacksonville She owns eight rental properties, each with its own insurance company. Recently, the rates for all of her properties jumped. “It’s frustrating, I get angry, but why, you know, why when we maintain our properties, we take care of them,” Carriere said. “We don’t overuse insurance. We don’t make false claims.” Carriere has no plans to sell her homes, and she is doing her tenants a favor by keeping rent low. “We have the ability to not pass that on yet --but eventually, it’s going to catch up,” Carriere said. It’s a ripple effect frustrating thousands of Floridians. Not only are rent prices and insurance premiums increasing, some policies are being dropped as insurers leave the state. On the bright side, the real estate market in Northeast Florida appears to be stabilizing, according to the Northeast Florida Association of Renters. These aren't large changes, but the home affordability index increased by 0.5 percent in August to 79.5, which is a marginal improvement from July's 79. A higher number implies greater affordability. “Florida realtors and Northeast Florida Association of Realtors are working with Congress, the state, as we go into 2023 for insurance reform, and you’re absolutely right,” Mark Rosener, Northeast Florida Association of Renters President said. “Homeowners insurance is a big issue as it relates to home affordability.” As far as going into 2023, with insurance reform, Rosener said, “The biggest piece of the insurance cost and the huge increase is that Florida is a major litigated claims state.” Rosener continued, “The legal costs that are associated with that are very dramatic and raise the cost of insurance for Florida residents. And so that really needs to be addressed.” Renner encourages local leaders to think outside the box when it comes to subsidizing buildings, and he urges consumers to shop around with insurance companies – something which Carriere has already done and failed. “They need to cap increases, they probably need to roll back some of the increases that have happened too,” Carriere said. The regulation of the insurance industry in Florida is necessary, according to her. Orange County residents will vote on a rent control plan in November that, if passed, would limit annual rent increases to the rate of inflation for places with four or more units.

[starrysvn]

lonely birthday | jung wooyoung

pairing: wooyoung x gn!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, not proofread!

masterlist

this is all cause i hate lonely birthdays (gif credits: @/mir_xxx on weheartit)

Squeezing the empty beer can in your hand, before letting it fall all crumpled in the bin, you defeatedly plopped down on the lonely chair at your dining table. On it rested a single chocolate chip muffin – its Starbuck’s paper bag acting as a tablecloth – crookedly stabbed with a single blue sparkly birthday candle.

“Absolutely fucking pathetic” you murmured as you lifted your hand to light it with your black lighter.

It had been a while since you last believed in birthday wishes, but the realization of having hit rock bottom made you act a little foolish from time to time. You squeezed your eyes real tight – like you used to do as a kid, convinced it would somehow help the process of making the wish come true – and felt a stray tear make its way down your cheek. You sniffled, barely caring anymore, and blew out the candle. As you opened your eyes and saw the smoke make its way up, you almost laughed. Birthday wishes never came true. You hated birthdays.

You slumped in your chair, staring straight at the wall in front of you, and started to think when life had become so dull. Trying to pinpoint the moment when college had started to feel like a job and your job a nuisance. When, suddenly, the realization of being an adult had somehow colored grey your youth: it wasn’t like you didn’t have friends or things to do to fill up your free time, but somehow the weight of responsibilities had become ten times harder to hold up. Someway, all you could manage to focus on was duty and not what made you happy. And the saddest thing was that you knew exactly how it happened but didn’t know how to fix it.

You grimly chuckled, taking a bite out of the muffin. Growing up really fucking sucked.

“You’ll be sulky and mad all day if you spend today alone. You’ll think that nobody cares about you when really, it was you who didn’t want anyone around”

His words echoed in your head as the clock struck one minute after midnight and you stood up to throw the paper Starbuck’s bag and the muffin wrapper away. As always, he was right. You never really gave much thought to birthdays, never really cared much what you did on the day of. That was until he came along and showed you how much fun it could be, just to even hang out with a few friends or do something you had wanted to do for a while. The purpose of birthdays was to celebrate yourself a little bit more than usual, he reminded you. Funny how the first time he wasn’t in your life you seemed to have forgotten a hard-learned lesson.

As you made your way to bed you tried to come up with excuses as to why you had spent your birthday doing the absolute minimum: it fell on a weekday, your friends all had stuff to do, it was enough to have had a quick lunch with them. Wooyoung wasn’t here to put a stop to everyone’s lives just to remind them of your birthday. The harsh truth downed on you and had the same effect as an ice-cold shower. You hated the feeling of getting older and realizing how the world, with its cruelty, crushed the innocence and unadulterated joy you were gifted. Birthdays to you were just a reminder of that. Wooyoung, on the other hand, mitigated such bitter feelings by showing you how despite all of it, you could still find it in yourself to be a little bit of a Peter Pan, that you didn’t have to let it all go, but rather keep it with you to help facing how unforgiving life could be. Especially on birthdays. The thing is, it would have been so easy to do as you’d learned from him, you could’ve done it, but trying would’ve cost your heart too much. It would’ve been the umpteenth reminder that he wasn’t by your side anymore, not him, not his joyous smile or bright laughter. You weren’t sure that your patched-up heart could’ve taken being the better version of yourself if he wasn’t by your side, not yet at least.

Tossing and turning in bed did you no good, you had to be up early the next morning, yet whenever you closed your eyes you just saw pictures of him. Throwing the blanket off your body, you lazily stood up, ready to take a trip to the 24h convenience store just by your building. Wrapping a scarf around your neck, you finally opened the front door, just to find yourself facing the person who’d been clouding your head.

“Wooyoung?” you asked, voice shaky and confused.

“Hi” he simply said, a small smile on his lips. “I’m sorry I missed it but...” he looked at you, pushing a small gift bag in your hands. “Happy birthday y/n”

You couldn’t help but stare, bewildered, between the item placed in your trembling hands and his unreadable face. “I- “ you started, not really knowing what to say. Your mind was racing a mile a minute and you couldn’t keep up with your spiraling thoughts. “You don’t have to say anything” he rushed, eyes focused on his sneakers. “I know you hate birthdays and I’m probably the last person you want to see right now” shrugging, he finally looked at you. “But I hated the thought of you thinking I’d forget about it more” Something snapped inside of you, probably also having to do with his unusual calm and quiet voice and downcast eyes, that brought tears to your eyes. Wooyoung was rarely like this, he was always happy and cheerful and joyful, a smile stamped on his face no matter what. Seeing him like this had your heart squeezed in a painful clutch. You sniffled, immediately trying to smile despite the pain. “Thank you Wooyoung, you didn’t have to,” you said, trying your best to make your voice sound stable. “But I wanted to” he smiled a little wider this time, subconsciously making you do the same. “I was about to go get some ice cream; do you want to join me?” you asked before you could stop yourself. That had Wooyoung grinning in no time, nodding his head. “I’d like that” And just like a thousand times before the two of you broke apart, the table outside of the convenience store saw you sitting under its awning once again, talking and laughing like you used to with the company of just two tubs of ice cream and a starry sky. “Promise I’ll never let you spend a birthday alone ever again,” he said, suddenly solemn, holding out his pinkie to you. With a chuckle and the brightest smile stamped on your face, mirrored on his, you laced your pinkie with his.

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Lena let out an undignified squeak as she grabbed hold of the bookshelf beside her in an effort to not land on her face.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Lena turned, wiggling her foot back into her heels properly, before freezing, eyes widening at the caped figure now scrambling to her feet.

An array of books and magazines were spread out on the floor, presumably the culprit of her latest near death experience. It was as though National City’s newly revealed superhero had been sitting in between the bookshelves on the library floor… studying?

Lena clutched the cheesy romance novel she had been too busy reading to her chest as Supergirl looked at her in concern.

“Miss?”

Lena’s brain finally restarted and she cleared her throat, straightening her blazer. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Supergirl was wringing the edge of her cape in her fingers, looking far too nervous for someone who was suspected to be the strongest being on Earth by several sapphic blogs that Lena most definitely did not read.

“I’m fine.” She reached out to put a hand on Supergirl’s forearm in an impulse comfort gesture. “I promise.”

Supergirl seemed to relax slightly, some of the tension seeping from her shoulders. She held out a hand. “I’m Kara.”

Any tension that had left her immediately returned tenfold, eyes widening in panic as she froze.

Lena bit back a smile and took Kara’s hand, shaking it despite Kara’s lack of movement. “Lena. And don’t worry - your secret’s safe with me.”

Kara deflated, running a hand through her hair. “Alex is going to kill me.”

Lena laughed and patted Kara’s bicep (definitely the strongest being on Earth). “Maybe you should stop saying names now.”

Kara grimaced. “Oops.” She looked like she was about to say something else but stopped and looked at Lena again. “Wait… are you Lena Luthor?”

Lena straightened up, careful mask falling into place to try to hide the way her heart sped up and her throat constricted. “Yes.”

But before she could launch into her speech about how she was different from the rest of her family and only wanted to help, Kara lit up, crouching down to shuffle through her piles of literature until she came up with an issue of a science magazine from a few years ago.

“I just read your article about sustainable building and how we can introduce cost-effective eco-friendly measures to construction to reduce the damage done to the environment and promote a symbiotic relationship with nature.”

Lena blinked.

Kara almost poked herself in the eye before redirecting the movement to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I just thought it was really interesting. You’re probably tired of people asking you about your work.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “No I… I don’t mind.”

Kara smiled and Lena found her heart racing for an entirely different reason. She redirected her attention to the books scattered on the floor.

“So what’s National City’s resident superhero doing studying civil engineering, first aid and… veterinary science on the floor of the library?”

Kara blushed and knelt down to start scooping up all her things. “Sorry - I know I should have been at a desk I just got carried away.”

The pile of books was up to Kara’s eyebrows when she stood up and Lena laughed, taking the top third of them from her. “And I shouldn’t have been reading and walking. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Supergirl shrugged, toeing at the worn carpet with her red boots. “I’m new at the whole superhero thing. I don’t know where to freeze breath a building to hold it up or how to save someone who’s got water in their lungs from almost drowning. The other day I rescued a snake from a tree and tried to wrap it up in my cape to keep it warm and the owner told me ‘thanks, but reptiles are cold-blooded so they don’t warm up like that.’” She pouted at Lena. “The owner was a ten year old.”

Lena bit back a smile. “So you’re trying to learn how to be a better superhero?”

She shrugged and bit her lip. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

Lena considered her for a moment. “You know, I happen to have degrees in a few different kinds of engineering. And I made everyone at L-corp, including myself, take a first aid course when I took over.”

Kara looked as though she was trying to contain her hopeful expression. It wasn’t working very well, although that probably wasn’t surprising since her motto was ‘hope, help, and compassion for all.’

Kara bounced on her toes excitedly. “Would you help?”

Lena grinned and gestured to the left with her head. “Come on, I know which desk is the best in the library.”

———

It became somewhat of a routine after that. Every Saturday, Lena would go to the library as normal, pick out a new cheesy romance novel for the week and some kind of thick science book to hide it underneath, and then meet Supergirl in the back corner of the library, at the desk hidden behind the spare computers from the 90s where no one would find them.

Kara would normally already be there, pouring over texts and making notes in coloured pens and highlighters. Lena had bought her a rainbow of folders and dividers for each of the aspects of superheroing she was trying to improve in, and they had spent one very unproductive but fun day labelling and decorating them. They were now covered in random doodles, squiggly multicoloured patterns, and stickers that Kara had found in a rotating rack by the front desk, immediately claiming were essential for her learning.

During the week, Lena would keep an eye on any news of Supergirl, getting some strange looks from Jess when she walked into her office to see Lena cheering as Kara did something they’d worked on together. At the weekend she would listen to Kara excitedly retell those same events until the librarian came over to shush them. She seemed to be the only person in National city that wasn’t completely charmed by Supergirl, and it always led to half an hour of Kara pouting and asking Lena why the librarian didn’t like her.

It was a few weeks before Lena got there first. She frowned, checking the surrounding isles of books for any caped figures but they were all empty as usual.

She sat at their desk and opened up the book she had randomly grabbed off a shelf, putting her latest romance novel inside it to covertly read. It was called ‘Lost and Found: A Love Story’, the back of it claiming it was about a woman who ‘drops her scarf at a train station but ends up finding something much more meaningful in the woman she bumps into at the lost and found.’ It was exactly as awful as it sounded.

Kara bounded up to the table about 20 minutes later, a coffee cup in each hand and a satchel slung over her shoulder that made her cape bunch up awkwardly. She beamed at Lena and set a coffee down in front of her.

“Guess what I just did.”

Lena slammed the books shut inside each other, scrambling to put her arms over them and rest her chin in her hand casually. “What?”

Kara either didn’t notice or didn’t care, rounding the desk and putting her bag down on it with a grin. “I laservisioned the supports of a broken crane back together using some metal from a billboard and now it’s totally fine for use again.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “What happened to the crane in the first place?”

Kara’s cheeks heated and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck as she mumbled, “I may have flown into it a little bit.”

She scowled at Lena as Lena started laughing but it was undermined by the way her lips tugged up.

“Oh!” Kara lit up and started rifling through her bag. “I brought you this.”

She held out a book with a bright smile. Lena’s eyes widened as she looked down at the cover of what was very clearly another cheesy romance.

“It’s my favourite love story. It’s a bit like the one you’re reading at the moment but better, in my opinion. I thought you might like it.”

“What?” Lena scoffed. “I wasn’t reading a romance. I was reading…” she glanced over to check what book she had picked up, internally filling with regret as she read the title, but she had already committed to the facade. “The rhyming dictionary.”

Kara was very clearly trying not to laugh. “Ok. Well I’ll just leave this one here. And in case you didn’t know,” she leaned closer to Lena’s ear as she climbed into her seat, and whispered, “I have x-ray vision.”

Lena blushed, refusing to look at Kara’s smug grin. She cleared her throat and moved her books off to the side, along with the one Kara had put down, as casually as possible, and attempted to change the subject.

“So you remembered about weight distribution in support structures?”

Kara paused in taking folders and notes out her bag to turn to Lena excitedly, rambling on about her save, gesturing wildly with her hands.

Lena picked up her coffee as she listened with a soft smile, absentmindedly taking a sip.

She frowned down at the cup. “Is this my usual?”

Kara paused in her rambling. “Yeah. Does it not taste right?”

Lena shook her head, staring back down at her perfect coffee, cheeks heating at the heart drawn in latte art that Kara probably didn’t even have anything to do with. “No I just… I didn’t know you knew my order.”

Kara grinned, raising an eyebrow (Lena should never have taught her how to do that). “Perhaps you’re not as elusive as you think, Lena Luthor.”

———

Lena arrived at the library one Saturday to find Supergirl staring at the front doors like she might set light to them any moment.

“What’s wrong Supergirl? Lose a fight with a door handle?”

Kara turned to her with a pout, pointing at a sign hanging on the other side of the glass. It read ‘Library closed until 23rd due to water damage. Apologies for the inconvenience.’

Lena sighed.

“Where am I going to get my books for this week, Lena? I’m never going to understand civil engineering without them.”

Lena bit the inside of her cheek, the rational part of her brain at war with the part that was helpless to the superhero’s pout. It had to be one of her superpowers because Lena would never admit she was actually soft.

She tore her gaze away, trying to seem casual. “I actually have some engineering textbooks at my apartment. I guess you could borrow them if you wanted.”

Lena squeaked as Supergirl crushed her in a bear hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Lena laughed, trying to turn it inconspicuously into a cough when a passerby gave a slightly shocked and confused look at the sight of a Luthor and a Super laughing on the library steps. Kara dropped her back to her feet, stepping back with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I got excited.”

Lena shook her head with a smile. She turned to go but as she went to gesture for Kara to follow, her hand caught against Kara’s. Her brain misfired and decided in the split second where her index finger hooked onto Kara’s pinkie that the best course of action was to commit to it and simply hold hands. In an attempt to make it seem less affectionate and more practical, she walked off quickly, dragging Kara along in the direction of her apartment.

She could feel Kara’s smile like rays of sun behind her. At least her hair was down to cover up the heat that was creeping up the back of her neck.

Her apartment was only a few minutes from the library. She had to slap Kara’s hand away from the elevator buttons before she pressed them all, marveling at how many floors there were.

“So this is where you live?” Kara looked around the hallway, panicking when she snapped a leaf off of a decorative plant, while Lena unlocked the penthouse door.

Lena pretended not to see her discreetly dropping the leaf into the plant pot but raised an eyebrow at her. “No, Supergirl. I just decided we should come and stare at this random person’s door.”

Kara ignored her, walking past into her apartment and looking down at the city below through the large floor to ceiling windows. “Nice view. I should take you flying sometime - it’s even better from up in the clouds, especially at night.”

Lena closed the front door, trying not to think about romantic flights and being cradled in strong arms. “I’ll go get the textbooks.”

She moved towards her home office, Kara trailing behind in interest. The engineering textbooks were over in the left corner and she scanned the alphabetised section for the ones she wanted.

Kara ran her fingers over the spines of books until Lena was done. She smirked at Lena, letting her hand trail teasingly down the bookshelf before she left. Lena blushed as she realised why. Kara had found her fiction section, over half the books in which were very clearly a certain genre.

Lena groaned and followed her out.

They spent the entire afternoon on the floor around Lena’s coffee table, going through the textbooks, laughing over Kara’s constant puns, and eating the seemingly endless supply of snacks Kara produced from her bag. It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that Lena realised how long they’d spent simply telling jokes and stories.

It was alarmingly easy to just be around Kara. Strangely, Lena didn’t think she minded.

———

Lena frowned as someone knocked on her door. It was a Saturday morning and she was just about to leave to meet Supergirl at the library.

She only grew more confused as she opened the door to see a fluffy white cloud panting happily at her and squirming in her direction. A head poked out from behind it, looking just as happy.

“Lena, hi! Sorry to just turn up but the mean librarian lady threw me out because apparently you aren’t allowed to play fetch in the library.”

Lena stared at the woman currently holding a large puppy in front of her, familiar blonde curls pinned back and glasses slipping down her nose. “…Kara?”

Kara blinked at her for a moment before she seemed to realise. “Oh! Right. Sorry - this is what I look like normally. When I’m not being Supergirl I mean. Alex said I wasn’t allowed to wear the suit all the time because it had to be washed.”

Lena nodded slowly, trying to reconcile the image of this Kara with Supergirl and to not think too hard about the implications of Kara being comfortable enough around her to show her her civilian identity. “Right. Why do you have a dog?”

Kara lit up. “I saved an animal shelter from a fire and they let me adopt this guy. Isn’t he adorable?”

Lena looked at the matching faces of excitement. “Very cute. But why is he here?”

Kara shrugged. “Well I couldn’t leave him after I’d just adopted him so I thought he could join us for our study session?”

Lena crossed her arms and Kara pouted. It was somewhat undermined by the puppy licking her face and making her giggle but Lena was still helpless to resist.

“Ok but he better not mess up any of my stuff.”

“Yes!” Kara grinned, wiggling the puppy excitedly, his ears flopping about.

Kara kissed her cheek on her way into the apartment and Lena’s heart skipped a beat. The puppy licked her in an attempt to join in but even that didn’t stop the way her heart raced.

They settled on the couch, facing each other as Lena quizzed Kara with flashcards. The puppy alternated between curling up in Kara’s lap and zooming around Lena’s living room, falling over his own paws.

“Ok, last one. How do you treat a sprain?”

“Ice it with my freezebreath, wrap it so it’s compressed but not cutting off circulation, keep it elevated.”

Lena grinned proudly. “That’s it! Done.”

Kara threw her hands in the air in delight, squealing as she propelled herself forwards to tackle Lena to the couch. She pulled back just as quickly, pushing up to brace herself over Lena.

“Sorry. I got excited.”

All the breath had deserted Lena’s lungs and she stared up at Kara. A light flush rose on Kara’s cheeks, pale pink against the deep blue of her eyes, bringing out the freckles that dusted her skin.

The flashcards slipped from Lena’s grasp as she surged up to meet Kara’s lips. Kara’s arms almost buckled but she caught herself. And then she was kissing back.

Lena’s hands slid up Kara’s back, practically pulling Kara down on top of her.

They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart, eyes closed and foreheads rested together.

Kara was smiling softly down at her when she finally opened her eyes. She had shifted to hold herself up on one hand and one elbow, her free hand gently stroking back Lena’s hair.

She looked like she was about to say something when she did a double take over the armrest of the couch behind Lena and her soft look turned into a wince. “What was it you said about the puppy not messing up any of your stuff?”

[tickle-bugs]

Patience (and Silence) is a Virtue

Summary: In his commitment to restlessness, Anakin discovers something about Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan can't let him get away with that, of course.

Anon: Hi I don't know if you're taking prompts at the moment but would you consider writing a fic where Obi wan is tickling anakin, maybe where it's during the clone wars and anakin is being restless and teasing Obi wan so he decides to put him in his place?? Or something obviously if you're not taking prompts don't worry! But if you're that would be really cute

Do not tag this as ship. Don't do it.

Anakin had a critical inability to stay still, Obi-Wan noticed. He had become calmer and more focused under his wing, sure, but he was restless to his very core. Other Jedi masters would certainly have found his fidgeting to be a nuisance, something to be expunged--Obi-Wan saw it as human. For the things they’d seen and had to do, a little humanity was very welcome.

Except now, of course.

Anakin paced past Obi-Wan for nearly the twentieth time this hour--he’d been doing laps around the room at a speed that’d put any trooper to shame. Obi-Wan’s attempts at meditation had given him some measure of calm, but inner peace was hard to find with your protégé stomping past you every moment.

“We are wasting time.”

“There’s nothing to be done but wait,” Obi-Wan murmured, unwilling to release his patterned breathing.

“I can’t just sit around.” Anakin switched directions, pacing the other way.

“You are far too eager, Anakin.” Obi-Wan shifted slightly, but did not rise.

“And you are far too boring!” He snapped, but it held no real venom. Obi-Wan sighed deeply, dropping his head, and the relaxation promptly left his bones. He stood, brushing himself off, and Anakin watched him tensely.

“Perhaps a bit of sparring would do you some good.” Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and beckoned him closer, already assuming a combat position. Anakin drew his, twirling it idly, and they circled each other.

For all of Anakin’s restlessness, he paid rapt attention in the field. Obi-Wan could see the gears turning in his head as they circled one another, waiting for Anakin to inevitably make the first move.

They exchanged a flurry of blows, sending blue sparks flying into the air around them. One of the strikes set Obi-Wan unexpectedly off-balance and Anakin used the opportunity to press his advantage, crowding in closer to force a surrender. Obi-Wan smirked--he could never resist playing dirty when an opportunity arose--and squeezed Anakin’s side. He yelped, lightsaber flying into the air, and Obi-Wan caught it, sheathed it, and clipped it to his belt. He tried not to look too amused at Anakin’s pinkened face.

“Do you yield?”

“Never.” Anakin smirked, rushing forward. He swung at Obi-Wan and he simply leaned to avoid it, hands tucked primly behind his back. A mistimed strike gave him an opening--he sidestepped and shoved Anakin forward and away.

“Your impatience will cost you if you aren’t careful. Again.” Obi-Wan readied himself as Anakin charged. Of course, he could never make things easy, but if he moved a tad slower to let Anakin get a few hits in? Ah, who’s to say.

Anakin locked Obi-Wan’s arm behind his back and started twisting out another forced surrender. It would’ve worked too, if Anakin’s stance didn’t leave his free hand wide open. Another lesson for another day, perhaps.

Obi-Wan reached back and grabbed at Anakin’s side, but he didn’t let up this time. He felt Anakin’s forehead smack into his back and heard the faint laughter floating up, but it took quite a few stubborn seconds for Anakin to actually let go.

“Excellent work.” Obi-Wan held out the captive lightsaber. Anakin took it gratefully.

“You absolutely cheated.” The silly smile on his face was contagious.

“I prefer calling it ‘alternative strategy’. Either way, you did well.” Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Of course. Now, for my sanity, I implore you to clear your mind. I’m not sure how much more pacing I can take.” Obi-Wan took a seat on the ground, and when his padawan didn’t move, he patted the space next to him until Anakin followed suit.

He could sense Anakin’s mind slowing beside him, falling deeper into the tides of the Force, and the comfort of it enveloped him. Obi-Wan allowed himself to drift inwards. His spirit floated away from his physical form and deeper into his psyche, deeper into peace. Tension left him in droves. He inhaled.

The air punched out of him, though, when Anakin started poking his upper ribs. He tried not to startle so visibly, but it was a little late for that.

“Are you trying to accomplish anything in particular?” He cleared his throat. Anakin could smell weakness, he was certain of it.

“Juuust testing a theory.” Anakin’s prodding fingers marched down his ribs and his fingers twitched minutely.

“You will not find what you’re seeking.” Obi-Wan’s voice strained against his better intentions. It took all of his strength not to move and a little more to appear calm.

“Are you sure?” Anakin reached Obi-Wan’s sides and didn’t let up. He exhaled a little too hard. He couldn’t allow himself even a smile—Anakin would never let him live it down.

“Of course, I’m—“

A lone giggle shattered their dialogue.

“Woah.” Anakin beamed, slow and steady. The dangerous sparkle in his eye was about one of the only things that could make Obi-Wan nervous.

“Anakin, I’m warning you—“ He didn’t get to finish. Anakin’s hands darted through the various folds and layers of his robes, seeking easier purchase, and found a delightful (read: terrible) spot around his waistline that pulled snickers from him like fresh taffy. He folded forward, falling into fuller laughter at curious scribbles upon his stomach, and Anakin gasped in wonder.

This was so alien to him, a relic of a life long gone. He found himself trying and failing to break up a cage match between his human instincts and his Jedi ones. Had what little shred of pride he had not been at stake, he would’ve fallen over under Anakin’s absurdly nimble hands.

“This is the best day of my life.” Anakin laughed, letting his fingers slip beneath Obi-Wan’s arms, and the subsequent bark of laughter surprised them both.

It’s about to be your last. Though he couldn’t possibly stay mad at the way Anakin was lit up. Perhaps it would be alright to let him win. Just once in a while.

Not today, though.

“I wish you hadn’t done that.” He hit Anakin with a gentle pulse of the Force, enough to push him back. Anakin’s face settled into playful terror in real time and he fled, making a hopeless dash for the door. Obi-Wan watched him run--he’d gotten faster lately--before grabbing him by the belt with the Force and throwing him back across the room. He caught Anakin bodily in his arms.

“No, wait—“

“Consider this a lesson in patience, ambition, and sensitivity. Especially the latter.” Obi-Wan locked his arms around Anakin’s waist and lifted him clear off the ground, burying his fingers into as much torso as he could. He burst into squeaky laughter, rife with voice cracks, and threw his head back, narrowly avoiding cracking open Obi-Wan’s nose.

“Oh, looks like you may have a thing or two to teach me!” Obi-Wan grabbed handfuls of Anakin’s sides and he snorted around his next bout of laughter.

“Obi-Wan pleahahase!”

“You know I am not a stickler for rules, but do remember your manners. You could get in some nasty trouble.” He swept Anakin’s feet out from under him, still tickling, and lowered him to the ground, taking great care to avoid the flailing limbs.

“I’m gonna die!” Anakin fruitlessly scrabbled at Obi-Wan’s torso to get the upper hand. Obi-Wan hooked his arm around Anakin’s and pulled it up, exposing the perfect landing strip for pinching fingers.

“Nonsense. You’re so close to being free! Wiggle out from my grip there—oh, you’ve made it worse. Hm.” Obi-Wan clawed at Anakin’s stomach with two hands and an iron grip. Anakin tried to pry the evil hands away, but his strength and coordination had evacuated long ago.

He swung his legs back and forth, kicking wildly, and Obi-Wan was proud of the little momentum he had. It was a clever idea--using momentum to break free of the hold. A fruitless idea, but a clever one nonetheless. Obi-Wan crossed his arms over Anakin’s torso, burying his hands beneath his arms, and the resulting shriek had Obi-Wan chuckling.

“This is wonderfully endearing, Anakin, but not at all effective.” On the next swing, Obi-Wan caught Anakin’s knee and wormed his fingers behind it. Anakin threw his head back and cackled wildly, all bright smiles and nose-scrunched laughter, and Obi-Wan had no qualms with admitting how much the sight lifted his spirits.

“I see the problem. You’re laughing too hard to focus.”

“You thihink?” Anakin squinted at him.

“I do. Try laughing less and see where that gets you.” Obi-Wan rained a hail of pinches down upon his hips and the fight was lost. Anakin made a noise like a ship’s hyperdrive starting up and flailed hard—he caught Obi-Wan in the chest with a stray punch. An endless stream of high-pitched, hysterical giggles bubbled out of Anakin and he did his best to muffle them, but Obi-Wan’s fingers on his neck ensured that he couldn’t.

“You’re turning rather red. Is something the matter?” Gloating was unbecoming, sure, but the two of them had always done things a bit differently. Besides, this was beyond endearing. He’d earned a little teasing.

“I give!” Anakin yelped, scrunching as much as possible. Obi-Wan’s fingers slowed.

“Good. You seemed intent on passing out.” Obi-Wan poked his stomach and Anakin snickered.

“One day,” Anakin wheezed, “I am going to destroy you.”

“I would love to see you try.” Obi-Wan extended a hand towards Anakin, glowing with pride, and he took it.

Did Anakin’s promise send a minute shiver up his spine? Perhaps, but he was never one to turn down an entertaining fight.

[gyucore]

SHELTER: STARTING LINE

pairing: ot5 x reader (individual endings + true end)

chapter tags: zombie apocalypse au, angst, mystery

synopsis: an unknown illness has rapidly spread throughout the world, taking down nearly the entire population and turning them into mindless vessels of death and chaos. in the midst of the rubble, you and your partner find a notice of a safe zone, and are taken in by a small group of survivors. you only have to hold out for seven more days until rescue arrives, but danger lurks at every corner, and not everyone can be trusted.

warnings: mentions of blood, gore, profanity, character death

word count: 3.8k

update: changed D-1 to starting line. the next chapter will be titled D-1 instead

master post | D-1

Up until now, it never really crossed anyone's mind just how much the world can change in the span of three months. Bright and busy streets that were once filled with people of different shapes and sizes, each living their lives the way they're intended, were now dark, empty, and uninviting. Garbage and rubble littered everywhere, and nature had taken over most of the run-down buildings. What used to serve as homes for many were now hollow shells of forgotten memories. And areas that'd been avoided at all costs became shelter for those seeking refuge, be it a dark cave in the middle of a forest, a series of tunnels hidden beneath the local town plaza, or the rotten sewers of the downtown area. Anything to not receive unwanted attention. If it weren't for the looming threat of danger present around every corner, the world would've been a sight to behold.

The downfall of mankind at the hands of an unknown illness. It had spread at an alarming rate, faster than renowned experts could ever have predicted. Endless efforts had been made to pinpoint its source, take note of its effects, and prevent it from spreading any further, but before they could yield the results of their research, the sick started acting strange. Two weeks after getting infected, the patients started behaving erratically. They've refused to eat their meals, lost their ability of coherent speech, and have had their mental capacity regress to that of a toddler. A week into their strange behavior and numerous reports flooded in left and right about how they'd start viciously attacking anyone that came within a certain range.

A child could piece together what's going on, and a good portion of the populace were well aware of what was to come. An illness that strips a person down to that of a wild animal, erratic movements, and accounts of vicious attacks; the whole situation sounded like the start a film one would pay to see on the big screen at weekends, except this was real life. It had already been too late when the horrific realization fell on everyone.

“I don't think we should do this.”

You snap out of your thoughts at the sound of someone's voice up front. It hadn't occurred to you that you'd been staring blankly at the moss covered floor for quite some time. “Sorry, what were you saying?” You ask, getting up from your seat on the ground.

Sunlight shone through the cracks above the sewers, illuminating the person's face. “I said, I don't think we should go through with the plan.” It had been Beomgyu who'd stepped up to oppose this month's supply run.

“Why? Is there a problem with the plan?”

Beomgyu looks down for a moment, briefly avoiding your gaze to collect himself and find his resolve. He wasn't one to go against your decisions. After all, you'd never failed to take into account everyone's well-being in crafting your plans, and none of them have failed the group thus far. But this one just felt.. off.

“It's too dangerous.” Beomgyu says with clenched fists, eyes full of conviction. “I know we're basically out of rations at this point but we've never done runs like this before. What if something bad happens to one of us?”

“I've thought this over a hundred times, Gyu.” You tell him, eyeing the rest of your group on the side in concern. “You've seen it yourself during our last scouting, right? There's barely any resources left around these parts of the city. The only way we'll be able to survive until our next relocation is to raid the nearest mall.”

“We could scout the area again.” Beomgyu insists, not letting his gut feeling slide. “We could find some other ways to get our hands on supplies without risking everyone's safety. You and I know the hordes prefer dark and wide spaces. There could be hundreds of them in there.”

“We'll take the risk.” A hand makes its way to your shoulder. You turn and see the rest of your group, Suhyeon and Sungjae, the hand belonging to the former.

Beomgyu frowns at the others' approval. You hold his hand and smile in attempt to reassure him, and for a moment, the two of you stare each other down. By the frightened look in his eyes, you could tell he was scared. And you were too. Everyone was, all the time. And with that fear, the idea of giving up seemed to grasp at your fingers, but the group wasn't in a place to do so. Beomgyu understood that.

“Fine. I trust you.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, giving his hand a little squeeze. “I won't let you down.” Was what you wanted to tell him, but couldn't find the courage to. You just hope things would actually go as planned.

Since the beginning, Beomgyu had always placed his trust in you. Both of you were broadcasting majors in college, and had taken most of your classes together. The first wave of attacks from the horde happened during one of those classes. It was of pure luck that you were seated next to Beomgyu that day. Quick on his feet, he'd instinctively grabbed your hand and dragged you to safety as he ran. And you've never felt so grateful your entire life. The gruesome sight of your classmates being ripped apart bit by bit had rendered you frozen in place. If it hadn't been for Beomgyu, you could've been one of them. And ever since that day, you'd vowed to survive together no matter what.

 The group left the base around noon. It looked like it was about to rain so you urged everyone to move quickly. The last thing anyone wants was to have to navigate slippery grounds.

Getting to the mall took nearly half an hour on foot. You had the group go around, sticking to the edge of the forest. In the situation you encounter a horde of infected, the dense trees and greenery would provide great cover. Fortunately, there had only been a few of them wandering around the streets, making it easy for the group to evade and not engage.

Arriving at the mall, Suhyeon and Beomgyu proceed to scout the area, securing every entrance and exit. You and Sungjae stayed behind, reviewing the map of the mall by the main entrance.

“Don't you think it's strange?” Sungjae says, copying the map on her notebook.

“What?” You ask absentmindedly, drawing your own copy.

“Usually there'd be more infected lurking around. This is the first time we didn't have to fight them off. Kinda makes me paranoid lmao.”

Kidding aside, Sungjae had a point. Supply runs usually never went as smoothly as this, but no harm ever came with looking at the bright side.

“All entrances and exits secured. We're ready to go.” Suhyeon reports tucking her ropes back in her bag. Beomgyu follows behind, giving an affirming nod.

Sungjae passes down copies of the map, and you provide everyone with a final rundown of the plan.

“We split up. Suhyeon and Beomgyu, you take the second floor. Scale the building carefully. Sungjae and I will search the ground floor. Take only the essentials. Prioritize food and medicine. Take anything that can be used as a weapon as long as it doesn't slow you down. Leave the basement alone. That'll reduce the risk of running into one of them. Hear a suspicious noise nearby? Get the fuck out of there. Each floor has three exits and two emergency exits, go to whichever is most safe. I'll trust that Beomgyu and Suhyeon did their part in properly securing the exits. If anything happens, fire the smoke signal. If all goes well, we regroup here. Everyone clear?”

“Clear.”

“Then let's go.”

Beomgyu sifts through the stock room in one of the pharmacies, balancing a flashlight between his neck and shoulder as he grabs anything useful and checks for the expiration dates. Suhyeon volunteered to keep watch out front.

 He couldn't seem to get his mind off of Suhyeon's words earlier. She'd told him about her suspicions regarding the lack of infected nearby. How there must've been something that caught hold of their attention long enough to lure them to another location. Possibly the work of other survivors. Either that or.. they're all having a grand feast at what used to be a group of survivors' hideout.

Beomgyu shivers at the thought. He'd rather there be no bloodshed, even if it weren't their blood being spilled. But if it had been the former, the ones possible for the distraction must've had a lot of reassurance on their side, and a goal in mind that needed the absence of hordes to be completed. Government interference? After all this time? Probably. They were the only ones capable of such a feat.

“Noise about five stores away. Slow pace. You done?” Suhyeon asks, popping out from behind and shining an extra light on Beomgyu's face.

He nods. “All done. Let's get out of here.”

One step, and Beomgyu freezes. His eyes go straight towards the number of ad posters plastered on the walls. It was possible. An important notice from the government spread around through flyers.

Beomgyu finds himself grinning.

There's a fucking safe zone.

Then the grin falls. There was no doubt you'd find out about the same information, but on what lengths you'd go to retrieve it has left him fearing for the rest of the group.

He turns to Suhyeon, face grim. “We need to find Y/N and Sungjae. Now.”

 “The hell?”

The infected collapses on the floor with a thud, its head bashed up from the blow. It had been following you and Sungjae ever since you'd passed through the stock room in the grocery. You two managed to corner it in one of back isles.

“What's wrong? You okay?” Sungjae looks over at you, placing her bat down as she wiped off the blood on her arm. After asking, she notices your hands start shaking. You seemed so fixated on the bloodied piece of paper that fell out from the infected's mouth. She winces when you immediately picked it up. “I don't think you should be holding on to that thing any longer than you should.”

“Right, sorry. It's just..” You read through the contents thoroughly, repeating them again and again until everything just goes blank and an array of uncontrollable emotions started flooding in. “Sungjae..” Your voice cracks a little as you hand the paper over to Sungjae, holding onto her shoulder as she too reads the few words on the print.

T SAFE ZONE

ntact

89

55

tation

“Y/N, this is— You mean, we can finally..” Tears gather in her eyes as she clutches the paper for dear life.

You nod, letting go of Sungjae and readjusting your duffel bag. “We haven't gathered as much supplies as planned, but the ones we've bagged from this grocery should be enough. Beomgyu and Suhyeon can handle gathering supplies on their own. And I think we can both agree that what we need to do right now is to find out more information about this safe zone.” The torn up flyer obviously wasn't enough, and you were confident there were more nearby.

Sungjae agrees, placing the last of her haul in her backpack.

A crashing noise alerts you two, prompting you to ready your weapons.

“The noise came from up front.” Sungjae whispers. “Let's leave through the side entrance.”

You two got out of there quick, not wanting to aggravate whatever was wandering around in the front. The goal was clear.

“Find anything that could lead us to a flyer. Someone must've put them up, right? There has to be more around here.” You say in between pants, stealthily striding your way through the halls.

“Uh, Y/N?” Sungjae stops you as you pass by a bulletin board at the center of the mall. From the looks of it, flyers about the safe zone were plastered here, only that other survivors had gotten to it first, leaving a few useless scraps behind.

If only you'd gotten to it sooner, fists clenching at the thought. “Let's keep looking.”

 The next few minutes were quick to pass by. All the running around, carrying heavy bags were starting to tire you down. Strangely enough, you hadn't encountered any other infected aside from the one in the grocery.

“Y/N, can we rest for a bit? We've searched the entire floor already.” Sungjae begs, exhausted. You remember how Sungjae had the lowest stamina in the group, although she made up for it with her knowledge in medicine and first aid. She's always been the one to patch you up.

“Maybe we should head back to the meeting grounds. Beomgyu and Suhyeon are probably waiting for us there. If they found any useful information upstairs, they'd surely tell us.”

You consider Sungjae's suggestion. She had a point. But the ticket to salvation was already right in front of you. If you'd search for a bit more, surely you'd find it. Scouting the second floor was a no go. All the stairs and escalators were demolished by a bunch of freak survivors called the Lost Boys, evident by the obscene Peter Pan inspired graffiti they'd placed on the floor near the rubble. A part of you wishes they'd have a shitty day ahead.

To go up from the inside, you'd need to scale the walls, and you weren't equipped for that. The only other accessible place you hadn't searched was the basement but that would be too much of a risk. You don't want Sungjae or the others getting hurt. On the other hand, if you were to go alone..

“Jae.” You turn to Sungjae, tone a tad too serious for the latter's liking. “Head to the main entrance and regroup with the others. I'm going down the basement to find more flyers.”

“What?!” Sungjae covers her mouth, realizing her voice had been too loud. Her next words come in loud whispers. “Are you crazy?! Did you skip your rations earlier? I can't let you go down there alone! You said it yourself, it's too dangerous! Think about your safety!”

“But still..” You can't let go of the feeling that you might find something useful if you just kept on searching. Hiding down below isn't exactly as safe as it seems, and resources were scarce. It's not just the infected you have to worry about but starvation and illness as well. The sewers weren't kind to survivors.

“Alright, alright. Fine. You crazy bastard. If you really wanna go down there then at least take me with you. Two heads are better than one or whatever.” Sungjae rolls her eyes as she drags you to the path leading downstairs.

“You sure you're okay with this? Suhyeon will kill me if you ever got hurt.” You try to free yourself from her grip but fail.

Sungjae snorts at your comment. “I can take care of myself. Just promise me we'll be in and out real quick, okay?” She gives your hand a little squeeze as you made your way down, and you can't help but smile. Having someone who's got your back made all the difference.

 But if only you hadn't taken her.

“Shit!” Beomgyu shoots another infected down from afar. “Nine. Hey, Suhyeon, how ya holding up down there?!”

“Twelve! That makes all of them!”

Beomgyu clenches his teeth as he propels down. They were on their way down the second floor when the fire alarm went off. The blaring sound attracted a few of the infected near the area, but not enough to overwhelm the two.

The alarm could only one thing— you and Sungjae were in big trouble. Everyone had agreed on releasing a smoke signal when in danger. The appearance of smoke and its distinct smell would've alerted the other members of the group without attracting the attention of the infected. But setting off the fire alarm wasn't part of the plan.

Beomgyu and Suhyeon rush inside the ground floor, readying their weapons for an encounter with an infected but there weren't any around. Not a good sign.

“Now where the fuck are th—”

A piercing scream cuts Beomgyu off. Suhyeon could barely move when she recognizes the voice. “Please, no..”

Beomgyu places a hand over Suhyeon's shoulder. “It came from the basement..”

And with that, the two took off.

Beomgyu couldn't help but curse you in his mind. The basement was off-limits, and there was no way Sungjae would've decided to go down there on her own volition. It had to be you. He knew you'd be like this the moment you'd find out about the safe zone. Partnering up with you from the beginning would've been ideal, that way, he could've slapped some sense into your head when the time came.

“I know what you're thinking, but going around pinning the blame on someone won't get us anywhere closer to saving them.” Suhyeon blurts out as the two made their way downstairs.

She was right.

Beomgyu clears his head. The details could wait after the rescue. He just hopes he was fit enough to pull this off.

 What awaited the two in the basement was a scene that could only be described as something straight out of a nightmare. There you were standing on top of a banged up display car in the middle of the floor, the flickering light of the fluorescent above you illuminating your bloodied figure as you shot the infected down one by one as they came crowding. Estimated, there were at least forty infected coming in from left and right, prompting Beomgyu and Suhyeon to stand their ground, shooting down the horde as they got closer.

Half of the infected had turned their attention towards the two, taking away most of the burden on your part.

But as the duo's eyes adjusted to the dark, your figure started becoming clearer. You weren't alone. Never should've been but Sungjae was nowhere to be found. Beomgyu could feel the blood draining from his face as he sees what it was you were clutching your arms, or rather, who it was. “Well fuck.”

“Sungjae!” Suhyeon cries out desperately, taking out her bat with her free hand and charging at the horde with both weapons, hoping to get to Sungjae as fast she could.

“Fuck. Suhyeon don't—!” Before he knew it, he'd lost sight of his comrade in the dark. All he could do was continue to shoot, but for how long? His eyes wander back to your figure, and couldn't help but wish it hadn't. He could make out Sungjae's state in your arms. At least, what's left of her. The look on your face screamed a thousand words and emotions. Regret, fear, grief; he couldn't really point it out. You looked like you were just about ready to leave the world behind at any moment, holding your half-eaten friend close.

Everything was in chaos. Beomgyu didn't know what to do anymore. The horde just kept on coming, and he'd thrown himself in this dangerous situation without thinking straight. How had you gotten yourself in this situation in the first place? Why did Sungjae have to die? How will they ever survive this? Beomgyu could only pray for a miracle.

And with the sound of the ceiling bursting, his prayers were answered.

The rubble crashes to the ground, burying most of the infected with it. Beomgyu takes this opportunity to shoot down the remaining few in front of him, maneuvering his way to the front in search of Suhyeon, hoping that his friend had made it through the nightmare.

To his horror, Beomgyu finds her body crushed beneath the rubble. “Suhyeon!” He hurriedly gets the debris off her but realized it had already been too late. She was done for even before the ceiling gave away. Her lower half had already been eaten. The dread slowly kicks in.

He could've stopped her.

She would've still been alive.

A barrage of shots forces him out of his thoughts. He stumbles as he looks behind, seeing the silhouette of two individuals, non-infected most likely, actively shooting at a few infected coming in from the distance.

Are we being rescued? He figures the whole ceiling mishap was their doing too.

Beomgyu's attention then shifts to you, finding his strength to run to your side.

The strangers alone managed to finish off the remaining threat, allowing the two of you some time to pull yourself together.

Beomgyu quickly holds his hand out for you to take, but all you did was stare back at him in defeat.

“Beomgyu, I..” You croak, gaze wavering. “Sungjae..”

Beomgyu watches as you hold Sungjae closer to your chest.

“She's.. She's..” Your body flops down, the smooth surface of the car's roof making you slip. “It should've been me.”

Your words weigh down Beomgyu's chest. He couldn't even bear to look at you like this.

“Sungjae's gone, Y/N.” He whispers. “Suhyeon is too. I know all of this is hard to take in but we have to get out of here right now.”

Beomgyu offers his hand again, and this time, you make the move to take it.

“Better get your shit together fast you two.” One of the strangers calls out. “Your stunt with the alarm attracted all kinds of danger. There's more where these guys come from. If you wanna make it out of here alive, you better come with us.”

He was the taller one out of the two. Dark hair. Probably around your age. The same goes for his blonde friend.

The blonde looks over at the bodies of your friends and sighs. “Small group, huh? I know how you feel. But we can't bring them along. Too risky. We don't want a potential infected in our hands.”

“The jeep's out at front. We'll wait for you there, but I suggest you decide quick. Coming along is all up to you but we're not sticking around here for too long.” He adds.

Beomgyu looks to you, eyes pleading. You take one last look at your friends. Suhyeon and Sungjae. You vow to never forget this day, to never forget them, and to never forget what they've done. The object in your hand served as a beacon of hope, and a grim reminder.

“We're coming.”

“Smart choice.” The blonde nods, and the two turn around to lead the way.

You and Beomgyu follow after placing Suhyeon and Sungjae's bodies safely to the side, leaving behind your jackets to cover them up.

You couldn't stop the tears from falling as you stared at the crumpled flyer in your hand. Sungjae had sacrificed her life for this flyer, and Suhyeon for everyone.

Heavy rain pours endlessly from the sky as you got out, weeping for the lost. You hold on tight to Beomgyu's hand, earning his attention as he looks back. The gaze you shared was enough for you to know the other had been thinking the same thing. From this point on, you were to continue your lives not only for yourselves but for your two comrades as well, swearing to not let their sacrifices be in vain.

And if you could save a few more lives with this flyer, then so be it.

[riotwritesthings]

I'll cave in (whenever you see fit)

A BIG BIG HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!! to @warmachinesocks​

thanks for being you that’s big sexie of you. Here’s a thing.

Winteriron, M, 5k - Vampire!Bucky, human!Tony, an abduction, a rescue, and some dry humping

Bucky knows better than to get involved with a mortal, and he pays the price when Hydra kidnaps his boyfriend. Tony is human, he's questionably in distress, and he is Handling It. (minor violence, surprisingly soft all things considered.)

~~~

Bucky should have known this would happen. Fuck, he should have known.

An immortal should never get involved with a human, that’s rule fucking one because it never ends well for anyone.

Especially not for the human.

But he’s selfish, so fucking selfish, and the first time Tony smiled up at him, open and happy, Bucky knew he was doomed.

He knows something is wrong the second pushes the door open to find the basement apartment completely dark. The only light is the weak streetlight pouring in through the one tiny window, near the ceiling in the kitchen.

Even in the dark, Bucky can easily tell that the place has been trashed, though it is only a subtle difference from the organized chaos Tony usually keeps his workspace in.

The apartment is too quiet, too still, and he knows instantly.

Bucky fucked up. Badly.

Because it had been entirely too easy to get used to the warmth of Tony’s smile, of his skin, the way he so easily made a space for Bucky in his life.

It had been so easy to let himself get comfortable in Tony’s weird basement apartment that’s half home and half machine shop, perfectly Tony. The way the apartment is brightly lit with industrial lights at all hours of the day and night so Tony can see whatever brilliant new invention he’s working on next.

Bucky never had a chance at not getting attached, because in all his years he’s never met anyone like Tony.

Tony is perfect, and brilliant, left with nothing after his father's company was stolen out from under him and Tony just built himself a new life, tries to help wherever he can. He keeps erratic hours and never minds that Bucky comes and goes at all hours of the night, that Bucky can't go out in the daylight.

Bucky hasn’t been in the sun in nearly a thousand years, but with Tony in his arms, so warm and bright and alive, he could almost remember what it felt like.

And now Tony has been taken.

Bucky knew who was responsible even before he found the symbol burned into the wall. It’s Hydra. Of course it is, and those bastards won’t care that he’s human, that he never should have been involved in any of this, all they’ll care about is hurting Bucky as much as they can.

And they picked exactly the right target.

Hydra has been after him for nearly as long as Bucky has been not-alive, determined to wipe out all vampires at any cost. Even once the war was over, even after all the other hunter’s guilds signed the peace treaty, Hydra refused to give up their mission and for some reason they’ve taken a personal vendetta against Bucky. Probably because he’s evaded them so many times.

And now they have Tony.

The thing is that Bucky hasn't really known Tony that long, not even by human standards, but he is completely, irretrievably in love. He’s ready to burn the whole world down to get Tony back, even if Tony never forgives him for it.

But he’s not going to be able to find where Tony is being held, not on his own. Not in time.

The downside to immortal friends though, is that Bucky hasn’t actually seen any of them in years, because what’s a couple decades between centuries old beings? Steve is back in Europe for a while, working on his painting, and Bucky hasn’t seen Natalia in nearly fifty years now, which means she probably won’t turn back up for another fifty.

There is one more option, Bucky is just less than thrilled about it.

It’s no secret that the other hunter’s guilds don’t approve of Hydra’s methods, the amount of collateral damage they leave in their wake. The lengths they’re willing to go to.

Like kidnapping innocent humans.

It’s definitely still a stretch to hope they’ll be willing to help someone like Bucky find Hydra, but he has to try.

And he does have one idea of where to start.

Bucky and Sam don’t like each other very much, and that’s been the standing opinion for the last decade. Which for a hunter and vampire, is basically a lifelong friendship.

It’s at least enough that Bucky can show up at Sam’s door without immediately getting himself staked.

The door flies open and Bucky blinks, because it never fails to surprise him how old Sam has gotten. Every time, Bucky is a little bit expecting Sam-as-he-met-him, still a kid, on his first hunt and clearly terrified but so determined to save the world, so idealistic. And now he’s so jaded, older and tired and it’s just one more reminder of just how badly Bucky has fucked up.

Tony is going to go cold and tired and it will be all Bucky’s fault.

“You’re here about Hydra,” Sam says flatly, no preamble, and at least that answers Bucky’s question about whether or not Sam even knows that Hydra is setting up camp in his territory.

"Tell me where they are," Bucky demands, resisting the urge to flash his fangs just yet because he's not here to threaten answers out of anyone. Not unless he has to.

Although he doesn't find it encouraging that Sam doesn't answer, just clenches his jaw and swings the door open a little wider, letting Bucky see that the extra heartbeat he hears belongs to Clint. Standing in the hallway with a crossbow in hand.

Bucky lets his lip curl up a little, because apparently this is going to be that kind of conversation.

“What do they have against you, anyways?" Clint asks conversationally, like he's not holding a loaded weapon with an expression that says he'd really like to use it. "Seems very personal at this point."

“What, you want the entire list?” Bucky snaps and finds that he is more than willing to give the whole sordid story if that's what it takes.

But he doesn't have the time for that, Tony doesn't have the time.

Instead he grits his teeth and demands “Tell me where they would take a human hostage."

It has the desired effect, both of the hunters tense and Clint’s eyes go wide, and maybe now they’ll realize that this isn’t about him.

The only thing that matters is Tony, and Bucky doesn’t even care that he’s not just admitting to that weakness, he’s basically screaming it from the rooftops by telling them. Doesn’t care that Sam’s eyes narrow in painful understanding.

“We can’t tell you that,” Sam says and he really does sound regretful, but Bucky snarls because that is not what he wants to hear. “Even if we don’t agree with what they’ve done, they’re still—“

“If you don’t tell me, I will kill you,” Bucky interrupts, his voice low and harsh and it’s gratifying to hear the spike in heart rates, it means he still has a chance of convincing them, whether by threat or force.

“Barnes—“ Sam tries to interrupt, but Bucky doesn’t have time for this.

“And then I’ll find out where he is anyways,” Bucky promises, “the only thing you’ll accomplish is slowing me down.”

“You wouldn’t,” Clint says, but he doesn’t sound sure and his grip on the crossbow is white-knuckled, “you’ll start a war you can never come back from.”

“Try me,” Bucky hisses, flashes his teeth and lets his eyes flare. He wants them to know how deadly serious he is.

Clint raises his crossbow, but Sam sighs.

“In the old warehouse district,” Sam says, shoulders tight with anger and fear, “on the far west edge of the city.”

“You’ll regret this,” Clint calls after him as he stalks away, but Bucky knows that he won’t.

Not if he can just get to Tony in time. Nothing matters beyond making sure his selfishness doesn’t get Tony killed. He doesn’t care what it costs, Bucky is more than willing to leave everything and go on the run again, all he cares about is making sure Tony is alive to hate him.

Sam’s information is good, so at least Bucky won’t have to go back when he’s done here.

He’s been dealing with Hydra for centuries now, and Bucky can easily identify the abandoned factory as a Hydra base. It’s the new bars over the windows, the reinforced doors, the impression of movement just below the surface of the dilapidated building.

He only has a couple hours before the sun comes up, and then he’ll be trapped in the building with who knows how many Hydra hunters. He has to find Tony and get out as quickly as possible.

He has to make sure that at least gets Tony out.

Hydra are still setting up their bases more or less the same way they always have, the same holes in security, and getting into the building is easy. Finding the makeshift holding cells is even easier, on the south-most side of the building, but the problem is that all of the cells are empty.

The entire wing of the factory seems to be empty and there’s fresh blood splattered across the walls and the floor, still wet and shining in the fluorescent lights.

The building is too filled with the smell of mold and decay for him to tell whose blood it is, for him to have a hope of picking out the familiar sweet tang that means Tony.

He can hear the sounds of commotion in the distance, what sounds like screams and gunshots further into the factory. It’s the same direction the trail of spilled blood is leading, and Bucky grits his teeth as he follows it.

The base is nearly deserted. Bucky only sees a couple hunters as he follows the sounds of the fight. Everyone he runs into is scrambling for weapons or the exits, and they don’t seem to be expecting him at all. They seem like they’re afraid of something else entirely, like they’re trying to escape.

Bucky doesn’t let them.

They took Tony, and he doesn’t even want to let himself imagine what they’ve done to him. On the slim chance he manages to get Tony out of here, Bucky can’t have any of them going after him again.

He has to make sure they never even think about going after Tony again.

The sounds of screams get louder as he moves into the heart of the warehouse, up the stairs to the offices. The blood is thicker here, splattered across the walls and the floors with evidence of a struggle. Smeared like someone has been dragged down the long hallway kicking and fighting.

With every empty room and bloody handprint he passes his rage grows, and by the time Bucky reaches the last door all he can see is red.

He slams in the door so hard that it splinters apart, chunks of cheap plywood flying everywhere. There’s a smell in the air like acrid smoke, like melting electronics and fire and blood, nearly overwhelming.

Bodies litter the room, dead and dying, but all he sees is Tony.

Bucky has spent the last four hours trying not to let himself imagine all sorts of horrible things. Tony hurt, Tony dead, bleeding, tortured, screaming. Rightfully cursing Bucky for getting him into this mess, rightfully wishing they'd never met.

He’s not prepared for what he actually finds.

Tony is alive, bloodied and bruised but so vibrantly alive, a knife in his hand and a vicious smile on his face as he plunges it into the chest of a Hydra hunter.

Bucky freezes uselessly in the doorway, watching in awe as Tony rips the knife free again, paying no mind to the spray of blood as he spins on his heel. Buries his blade in the gut of someone trying to creep up behind him.

And all at once it’s over.

The room goes still as the last hunter falls with Tony’s knife in his neck, Tony’s knees against his chest baring him down to the ground.

Bucky doesn’t even need to breathe, but still he finds himself choking on air as he watches Tony slowly right himself again, looking over all the destruction he’s caused.

Then Tony looks up, catches sight of him, and the expression on his face shifts from cold and vicious to warm and happy in an instant. Bucky’s cold dead heart lurches in his chest.

“Hey sweetheart, about time you got here,” Tony says, tossing him a jaunty wave with the knife still in hand.

Bucky crosses the room almost in a daze, headless of the blood that slicks the floor and the bodies he has to step over. All he can see is Tony and as soon as he’s close enough he traces his fingers reverently along the line of Tony’s jaw, ghosting over the dark bruise starting to form.

“Are you okay?” Tony asks, nonsensically, leaning into Bucky’s hands on him like Bucky isn’t the most dangerous thing in the room.

And hell maybe he’s not, Bucky certainly doesn’t feel dangerous. Not faced with Tony’s bright eyes and warm skin.

He feels weak, feels completely undone.

Bucky laughs, soft and strangled, and he hasn’t been cold in centuries but his hands are shaking as he cups Tony’s face in his palms.

“No,” he chokes out around another laugh, because he’s not okay, not anywhere close. “I thought- I didn’t know if you were- Tony--”

“Hey, hey,” Tony cuts him off, pulling him in closer and tucking Bucky’s face down into the curve of his neck. Where Bucky can hear the rapid thump of his heart, smell the adrenaline and the sweat that clings to his skin beneath all the blood.

And oh god there’s so much blood, covering Tony’s skin and his clothes and the room around them. Bucky can barely smell Tony through it and he tucks his face a little harder into the hollow of Tony’s throat.

“I’m okay,” Tony promises, fingers of one hand pressing into Bucky’s hair, his other hand resting on Bucky’s side and still wrapped tightly around the knife. Still prepared, and Bucky has never loved him more.

He drags his tongue up the line of Tony’s neck, through smears and splatters of blood. It’s almost a disappointment, definitely a thrill, that none of it is Tony’s.

“What did you- how did you even-“ Bucky keeps interrupting himself, can’t get a full thought out. He’s too concerned with lifting his head and pressing his lips to every inch of Tony’s perfect, unharmed face.

“I keep telling you, I’m a bad bitch,” Tony says, that beautiful smug grin on his face and Bucky just has to taste it.

Tony melts into it so easily when Bucky kisses him, his hands demanding but so gentle, like the room around them isn’t full of carnage. Like Tony isn’t the one who put it there, like he doesn’t have a care in the world except letting Bucky lick into his mouth, taste the adrenaline and determination and life straight from his lips.

Bucky has never tasted anything like it, has never met anyone like Tony, and he could have lost this.

He has to get closer, closer. He doesn’t even realize he’s backing Tony across the room until the back of Tony’s thighs hit a metal table, and Bucky just keeps pushing. Until the table clangs against the wall, until Tony is bent backwards over the surface.

Bucky follows him down, breathing him in, pressing between Tony’s thighs and still trying to get closer.

The table clatters, covered in knives and crossbows and stakes and Bucky doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. It doesn’t matter how much noise he makes now, Tony is the only living person in the warehouse, the only heartbeat on this rundown block. The only thing Bucky needs to worry about.

He certainly doesn’t give a fuck about the bodies that still litter the floor except that none of them are Tony, thatTony put them there.

Bucky doesn’t care about the bridges he’s burned, has never cared less about the impending sunrise. All that matters is Tony.

And Tony isn’t pushing him away, isn’t complaining. He just hooks one leg over Bucky’s hip and arches up against him, finally dropping his knife to drag both palms up Bucky’s back, pulling him in closer.

Tony is so warm beneath him, wrapped around him, always pulling Bucky in when he should be pushing him away.

“Fuck,” Tony sighs against his lips, one hand in Bucky’s hair again. Tony’s legs tighten around his waist, entire body rolling against Bucky’s, his voice shaking slightly as he says “I was so worried about you.”

Bucky wants to laugh again, because that’s soTony, worrying about Bucky while abducted and fighting for his life. Caring about Bucky in the first place when he should have run, should still be running, should leave Bucky far behind and never think about him again.

Nevermind that the idea has pain lancing through Bucky’s chest like he didn’t even think was possible anymore. He’d take the pain of losing Tony happily if he knew it meant Tony would be safe.

He will walk away, once they get out of here, that’s what Bucky tells himself. He just has to breathe Tony in this one last time and then he’ll walk away.

If Tony will let him. Which doesn’t seem likely, so far Tony has seemed determined to stay by Bucky’s side no matter what, and Bucky can never deny him anything.

The warehouse might be empty now but there’s no telling how long it’ll be before more hunters show up, and they should be getting out of here, Bucky knows that. But he can’t tear himself away from Tony’s warmth, from Tony’s hands moving over him.

Bucky can’t stop thinking that he could have lost this. That if he hadn’t found Tony alive and well Bucky would have made an even bigger mess. There would be no end to the carnage.

When he pulls away from the kiss Tony is panting raggedly and if Bucky had the spare brain power he’d feel bad about that but oh, he really doesn’t right now. Doesn’t care about anything but pressing his lips to Tony’s blood-splattered cheek swearing “I never would have stopped looking for you, never.”

“I know,” Tony promises, still trying to pull Bucky back into another kiss despite the way his words come out weak and breathy, his chest heaving against Bucky’s and his heart thundering.

So alive, alive, alive.

“I’d have done anything to get you back,” Bucky growls, dragging one hand down Tony’s side to his hip, digging his fingers in and shifting them until he can feel the hot brand of Tony’s cock against his hip.

“Fuck!” Tony gasps and the scent of his adrenaline spikes higher, turns sweet and warm as his fingers tighten in Bucky’s hair. “I know, I know, c’mon honey--”

And Bucky can’t say no to that, can never deny Tony anything.

Still, even as he lets Tony haul his face up again Bucky can’t stop the words from spilling out, his voice an awful snarl as he says “and if they’d hurt you--”

It’s probably for the best that Tony slams their lips together again and cuts him off, he doesn’t need to know all the monstrous things Bucky would do in his name. Much better to just let Tony kiss him, let Tony flick his warm tongue over Bucky’s blood smeared lips and the tips of his fangs, like he doesn’t have a fear in the world.

Tony’s heart rate kicks up harder, his next inhale weak and ragged against Bucky’s lips and Bucky forces himself to pull away. He lets Tony catch his breath and moves on to biting his way along Tony’s jaw, not enough to break the skin, just enough to get the taste of his skin on Bucky’s lips.

He tastes like sweat and arousal and need, so much love pouring off of him that Bucky can practically taste it. He’ll never get enough of it, doesn’t ever think he’ll stop being caught off guard by it.

“I told you,” Tony pants out when he finally gets his breath back and for a second Bucky doesn’t even know what he’s talking about, too distracted with the wet drag of Tony’s lips over his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me,” Tony says, one of his hands landing on Bucky’s ass to pull him in closer, harder, arching up into the demanding roll of Bucky’s hips as he moans out “‘m not gonna let anything happen to you either.”

Bucky laughs raggedly, grits his teeth, presses his face into the curve of Tony’s throat and the craziest part is that Bucky believes him. As crazy as it is he has no problem believing that Tony is equally ready to burn the world down. That the bloodbath around them is only the start of what Tony would have done.

The heat building between them is so intense that even Bucky feels warm, feels like he’s burning. Like he’s absorbing all that wonderful warmth and still Tony has so much to give, never runs out of it, never pushes him away.

Bucky growls, lifts his head to make it easier to resist the urge to sink his teeth in and instead rolls his hips against Tony’s, swallows Tony’s shaking moan with another fierce kiss. “You’re so- fuck, gorgeous, the way you looked tearing thorugh them--” Bucky can’t even find the words to describe it but Tony’s scent spikes, proud and smug and fond.

So damn addictive.

He can feel the needy throb of Tony’s cock against his hip, against his own when Bucky shifts a little more, and he grinds himself down against Tony. Chasing the shocks of heat and pleasure that shoot through his system everytime Tony jerks beneath him, everytime Tony cires out and drags in a ragged breath and then clings to Bucky harder, pulling him in and rocking up against him, so alive. Tony’s heels digging into the back of his thighs, hands moving restlessly over Bucky’s skin, sliding up under the back of Bucky’s shirt and leaving burning trails in his wake.

Tony feels so amazing wrapped around him, so alive, warm and demanding as his fingers dig into Bucky’s skin, his breath escaping in gasps and moans. The impossible heat between them continues to grow, until Bucky is sure it’s going to burn him away entirely, he can’t possibly survive something like this.

He can’t possibly keep it, not something like him.

“Bucky,” Tony whines and he’s shaking now, blood roaring through his veins. So close to Bucky’s fangs as he drags his lips up Tony’s throat.

“C’mon baby,” Bucky growls, clenching his teeth against the urge to bite, “lemme feel you sweet thing, wanna hear you.”

“I’m-” Tony gasps and then cuts off with a keening moan as Bucky pins him down more firmly, grinds against him harder. Tony tries to wiggle a hand between their bodies but Bucky grabs his wrist, presses Tony’s hand to the table beside his head.

“Just like this,” Bucky pleads, his own cock throbbing as he slows the rock of his hips, dragging his cock firmly along Tony’s until he shakes. “Just like this baby, wanna watch you make an even bigger mess of yourself, wanna fuckin’ lick you clean when we get home.”

It’s a nice thought, even if Bucky doesn’t know if he’ll actually get a chance, has no idea what’s going to happen next. At least the idea of it has Tony moaning louder, arching up against Bucky’s grip on his hip and on his wrist, always trying to get closer.

“Bucky, Bucky-” Tony wails beneath him, nails digging into Bucky’s skin, thighs tightening around Bucky’s hips, and Bucky can feel the way Tony’s breath catches in his chest. The way his heart pounds as he drags in one more breath and then breaks.

And this, this is Bucky’s favorite sound, the way Tony’s voice cracks on a loud moan as he falls apart, the stuttering jump-skip of his heartbeat. Hundreds of years wandering the earth and he’s never heard anything like it, could happily listen to all the sounds Tony makes for the rest of his endless life.

“Bucky,” Tony sighs, dazed and slurred, fingers still tight in Bucky’s hair even as his entire body shakes. “Fuck, c’mon honey, I’m right here, let me have it, let me feel you.”

He can hear Tony’s thundering heartbeat like it’s his own, can practically taste it on his tongue, and a feral sound rumbles out of Bucky’s chest as he tips over the edge, snarling against the all too delicate skin of Tony’s throat and clutching at him tighter, tighter.

“I love you,” Bucky confesses in a voice that’s so broken it’s practically a whisper, like his greatest secret. The worst thing he’s ever done.

They need to leave, need to get the hell out of here. Bucky should probably leave the city entirely, go back on the move, leave Tony far behind where he won’t get hurt.

That’s the plan.

He knows all that, but Bucky can’t seem to bring himself to let go, can’t stop kissing Tony over and over and over, feeling the warmth of Tony’s skin beneath his hands. Like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it.

“Come on,” Tony breathes against his lips, “we gotta get out of here before the sun comes up.”

Bucky groans, but he knows Tony is right. He can feel the approaching dawn in his bones and the last thing he wants is to be trapped in a Hydra base full of corpses all day. Or to still be here when more hunters show up, to have to leave through the sewers.

So he reluctantly pushes himself upright, mourning the way Tony’s lingering warmth starts to fade as soon as they’re not pressed together anymore. Tony’s hand is so much steadier than his own as Bucky helps him to his feet, so warm and alive and unafraid.

Bucky wants to pull him into another kiss. Wants to drop to his knees and press his face to the wet patch slowly spreading across the front of Tony’s jeans, taste him, lick him clean just like Bucky had promised. Doesn’t want to face the real world just yet because that means facing the fact that he has to leave.

That he doesn’t get to keep this.

Tony’s hand is still steady in his, his smile small and fond and he leads Bucky out of the warehouse, through the room of bodies and the bloodsplattered halls. Bucky pulls them to a stop just outside the heavy door he’d ripped his way through, paying no mind to the lightening color of the sky.

Burning to dust would hurt less than this.

“I need to leave,” Bucky says, the words tearing their way out of his throat, “I may have... made some threats. In order to find you. And Hydra isn’t going to stop as long as I’m here.”

He hasn’t even told Tony why Hydra is so determined to ruin his afterlife, not entirely, and now he doesn’t have time. Tony has been dragged into Bucky’s mess and he’ll never know why, and the only upside is Hydra will blame the bloody mess inside on Bucky. They’ll hunt for him more furiously than ever, and the best thing Bucky can do is lead them far, far away.

This is why not getting involved with humans is rule fucking one but Bucky doesn’t regret it, knows he never will. And as much as it kills him he can’t ask Tony to come with him.

Tony nods, like he expected it, and then asks “where are we going, and how long do I have to pack whatever’s left of my apartment?”

Bucky gapes at him.

It hadn’t occurred to him that he wouldn’t need to ask, and Bucky knows he should be relieved but all he feels is guilt. He loves Tony, but at what cost? He would do anything for Tony, and Bucky is ruining his life.

“You- your home,” Bucky tries to protest, his entire body going cold, colder than anything he’s ever felt before. “Your workshop--”

“You saying I can’t rebuild?” Tony interrupts, “I’m insulted, honestly. How dare you doubt me.” His smile is wide, and cajoling, like he’s trying to cheer Bucky up. Like he’s trying to convince Bucky.

“You’ll have to leave everything,” Bucky insists and maybe he does need convincing. It feels a little like he’s lost his mind, like he’s dreaming. He had a plan. “Your entire life, to hide with me, I can’t- I can’t promise the next time you’ll even see the sun.”

Bucky doesn’t need to breathe but he’s wheezing for breath now, his empty chest aching it’s so full of confusion and guilt and hope. He can’t let Tony do this, he can’t ask for this, he can’t--

Tony grabs Bucky’s face in his warm hands, palms calloused and still tacky with blood, as steady as they are when he’s building the future. As steady as they were around the knife, as when he was leading Bucky out of the bloodbath.

“Bucky,” Tony says simply, dark eyes so impossibly bright even in the sickly fluorescent light that spills out of the warehouse. “Bucky,” he repeats, low and sweet and amused, his voice wavering slightly as says “You are my sunshine.”

Bucky laughs again, can’t believe how much he’s laughed on a night that started out with his absolute worst nightmare. Even if it is a little hysterical.

He had a plan, but he also knew better than to get involved with a human, knew better than to stay in one place this long in the first place. Tony has been wrecking all of his plans without even knowing it for months now anyways.

What’s one more.

“You’re stealin’ all my lines,” Bucky accuses but he doesn’t mind, oh he doesn’t mind at all. He gets to keep this, keep Tony, the brightest thing he’s ever seen.

“I love you,” Tony says, so matter-of-fact, and it almost knocks Bucky’s legs out from under him. Every single time.

“That’s my line,” Bucky says, and he smiles, and his hand is steady as he wraps it around Tony’s wrist. “I love you,” he says anyways and tangles their fingers together, doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. “Let’s go.”

[boldlyanxious]

Cursed Soul Bond

Jasonette July prompt 11: enemy mine

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Marinette screamed in pain as Chat Noir turned her earrings over to Hawkmoth, promising her that everything would be okay. She could do nothing but freeze in agony as he removed his own ring and handed it over as well. Now before her, was her soulmate, Adrien Agreste. He had clearly figured out who she was without her ever knowing. She turned and watched his father, now revealed as Hawkmoth. Gabriel Agreste had taken off his broach in preparation for making the wish. He didn’t want to risk the other miraculous when he made his wish. It had to be the mix of the creation and the destruction to grant him his desire.

Marinette struggled and dropped fighting the grasp of her soulmate. She didn’t know how they could have worked together for so long and she never knew that her partner was her soulmate. But she couldn’t think of that now. She had to stop the man before he caused irreparable harm. A miraculous wish could not be undone. Nor could the effects. There would always be a price to pay. Adrien grabbed her again but he wouldn’t listen to what she was trying to tell him about what would happen. He was talking about his mother and how happy they would all be. He thought he had all the information so her warnings were all ignored.

Gabriel wasted no time waiting to see how the young couple handled the reveal or the betrayal. He donned the ring and the earrings and spoke the words. Time froze for a brief interlude as he made his wish. Marinette was aware that everything froze but she was unable to do anything else but know, trapped in her mind, as Gabriel controlled the ultimate power and was bestowed with one wish with no concern for the consequences.

When she returned, her soul mark burned on her arm. A searing pain that felt like it was ripping her away. Adrien looked stunned, watching as it flashed bright. His own brightened at the same time but he appeared to feel nothing. When the light faded, his mark did as well, leaving a patch of skin that looked untouched, no longer bearing any mark. He watched his former soulmate still in agony as the light went from shining to dark black. It was not reflective, it seemed to suck in all light.

Marinette dropped to the floor in failure. They had lost. She had lost. She had been betrayed by her soulmate and she had felt the bond tear away from her. It seemed to pull from every part of her body at once and left her weak. Adrien watched in shock, holding her until the agony ended. He seemed to feel nothing as his mark simply faded away. She could feel his arms lift her off the cold floor. She tried to pull away but her muscles didn’t cooperate. Everything felt so strange. Even being carried in his arms to the nearest fancy couch in the Agreste mansion felt numb.

He pushed her hair back from her face, it was matted to her sweaty skin. She was aware of shuffling nearby and was cognizant of Nathalie approaching with a cold cloth. She looked so worried as Adrien applied the cool cloth to her head. His hands felt so hot, like she was burning again. She shifted away from him. Her breath started coming in rapidly and she struggled to get away. She was so weak.

Adrien had backed away from her. He didn’t know how to react to her struggling against him and the sudden signs of sickness. Every few minutes he would place a straw near her mouth. The only feeling that helped at all was the cool water in her mouth and down her throat. She could not hear and could not speak. Her ears were filled with buzzing. She had no concept of time but suspected it had been an hour or so before her very worried parents showed up. As her dad carried her to a car driven by the Agrestes’ bodyguard, Adrien's hand held hers one last time as he passed her the peacock and butterfly miraculi as well as the jewelry that formerly held the powers for the kwamis of creation and destruction. They were now just symbols of her failure.

No one else seemed to know or remember about the threat of Hawkmoth. Gabriel had changed Paris and the world. Adrien said it was for the best. Now he had his mother and they still had each other. Marinette disagreed even though he begged and pleaded with her to reconsider. She would not even let him take her hand. She never wanted to see him again. Plagg and Tikki were the only ones she wanted to be with. Plagg felt responsible, and Marinette partially agreed with his assessment. He knew Adrien had a tendency to jump in with no consideration for the consequences and he had done nothing to temper that trait. Adrien didn’t know there would be a cost to the use of the wish because Plagg hadn’t mentioned it him when he already had so many other burdens in his life. That is why he didn’t feel the soul bond destroyed as she had. He didn’t know what he was doing was a betrayal even as it destroyed Marinette.

---

Nearly ten years had passed since Marinette had her soul bond destroyed. She had finished out her remaining school years in a small private school. She couldn’t connect with the others in her class anymore. She had been through too many things that they had no memory of. It was even a struggle to connect to her parents but they were loving and supportive even if they didn’t understand her sudden change. She suspected they thought Adrien or his father had done something to her. She couldn’t explain what had happened. So they harbored an anger towards the Agrestes thinking that there was some deeply personal incident but Marinette couldn’t explain that it was all of Paris and maybe the world who had been wronged.

The change of school helped her escape Adrien’s insistence that they could still be in love. For him it was as if the soul bond had never existed. He was still in love with her but she felt sick even remembering him. She could not stand to be near him. It took a long time for her to realize the twinge she would get in her dark soul mark was because when the bond had severed from Adrien it had attached to another soul. From what Plagg and Tikki could tell her it was a soul touched with dark magic. Cursed magic that only became possible as a consequence of the wish that now bound her soul to another.

She knew that it was her responsibility as a guardian and the only one who knew of the connection to fix this cursed bond. She would have to in order to finish binding Tikki and Plagg to new miraculous jewelry. They would fade otherwise and time was running out. It took her time to figure out where the other side of the bond was tethered. She wasn’t sure if that was because the other soul was moving or because she was still unskilled in this version of magic. Miraculous magic was natural for her but other forms of magic took a lot of training and drained her quickly.

She knew when she stepped off the plane that she had found the right place. She could feel the bond activate. Rather than absorbing all light, the outline of her mark reflected a bit of red back to her. Tikki’s color. She took that to mean she was in the right place. She only had the carry on with her and rolled it along behind her. She had some clothes and the miracle box. She needed nothing else. She would never return to Paris.

---

Jason rarely felt the pits anymore. Occasionally he would get the rage but it didn’t feel like he was doing anything different. It was almost as if for a brief moment something else was controlling what was happening. His wrist was often covered by a sleeve or glove but one night as the feeling of the pits drained back out of him he noticed a reflective bit on his wrist. It wasn’t just the UV mark from the club but it reflected the UV light flashing around just the same. He had a soulmark when he died as a teen, but it had disappeared. He assumed because he died. Now he wondered if the Lazarus Pit could change a soul mark.

He didn’t really have anyone he could ask about it so he started quietly looking for more information about soul marks. The basics of how to identify your soul mark and find your soulmate was readily available, but it did not interest him. Most people were able to find out that on their own. The information he needed was far more obscure and might not even exist. Chances are that his soul mate had felt his original death and had moved on with their life. It was hard for many at first but not impossible.

---

Marinette wasn’t very concerned with what job she had but she did have to find a job. Her interest in fashion had not gone but she had no interest in pursuing it as a career because she didn’t want the inevitable interaction with Gabriel brand. She severed every connection to that family and had no interest in interacting with anyone from her former life, even her parents as much as she loved them. She could not get past the memories of betrayal and her failure. She didn’t have to move forward, but she couldn’t look back.

She ended up running a used book shop that had a large number of very old looking texts that were almost never looked at. People came and went buying and selling their textbooks, classics and current best sellers. Marinette always had an eager smile to help them, but once they had gone she would be back perusing the books that seemed to call to her.

They were not listed in the computer at all. She had even tried to look some of them up and found no information on them, but they were exactly the kind of information she was looking for. Not all of them were useful to her but all were full of various sorts of magic she was previously unfamiliar with. It seemed that it was possible soul bonds were originally created or discovered by mixing different forms of magic. The book that mentioned it did not specify but she suspected that miraculous magic would have been involved based on her knowledge and what had happened with her own bond.

She started keeping careful records of all she had read and labeling the books so they could be found again rather than the haphazard pile the owner of the shop kept them in. He was rarely there and did very little to check up on her. She had originally gone to him about an ad for a place to live. He was a little surprised. He said the sign had been there quite a while and that no one even seemed to notice. He then asked if she needed a job and offered the position at the shop to her. She tried to remember if she had even given her name at this point. She was fairly certain she had not and that he had accepted her living in and running his shop knowing nothing about her.

---

Jason was getting a little frustrated in his search. He never seemed to have the time to do much and he couldn’t really delegate this task. Being a crime lord had its perks but down time was not one of them if he really intended to keep Gotham safe. There was a line of shops that his militia couldn’t seem to enter to recommend their services for protection. Every time they reported their income they seemed to even forget the buildings existed. One claimed that he had been there to the shop, but when he entered the door moved and he was no longer inside.

The rest of the crew was far more amused by the tale than Jason was. He sent them all out and decided he would have to pay the shops a visit himself. The first one was a small second hand shop. They didn’t seem to have much of value and little business. Jason learned that they did what sales they could but mostly the money went right back out. They gave away most of the clothes and served food in the evenings. They didn’t get much foot traffic so it was mostly internet sales from the donations.

He didn’t want to ask for protection money. He felt at peace when he entered. Except for a tug. He flipped the book of figures closed and walked over to the jewelry case. There were hair clips with blood red rubies inside that he felt drawn to. He had the old woman show it to him. He flipped it over and then lifted it to the light. He didn’t even think it was particularly valuable. The woman confirmed. She said that it was very lovely but she couldn’t sell it.

“You seem like such a nice young man. Why don’t you just take that one with you. Maybe you’ll find yourself a nice young lady to give it to.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Jason could feel the soul mark warm on his skin at her words. She didn’t seem to notice his distraction. She walked away from the counter and towards the back of the store with her ledger. She didn’t return. When Jason walked out of the shop, he remembered his purpose in going. He turned to go back inside, but the door was no longer where he had exited.

---

Marinette was tired after work today. She hadn’t even had much of a chance to organize the old books today. She needed to get out of the shop. She rarely ventured away except to replenish groceries. She lived and worked in the shop and spent all her free time reading and cataloging the volumes of magic. She followed her gut and went out into the town. She wandered around for several hours, drew in a park appreciating the fresh air and checked out a few shops. She was almost home when she was drawn to a shop a couple doors down from where she lived and worked. She knew there were shops along the same building she worked in but she had never paid much attention to them. She entered the shop to find a second hand store.

She walked through the shop, trying to recreate the feeling that drew her in. Nothing really popped out at her. She glanced through the racks but there was nothing that really interested her. She tended to make most of her own clothing, occasionally getting fresh ideas or a few signature pieces to give her original designs a pop. Nothing here really even inspired her. She turned to wave at the older lady carefully cleaning the counter before she left through the door she entered but she paused.

There was an ankle bangle that drew her attention. It was a simple design, black with a small emerald cat attached. Usually she avoided black and green as reminders of her past betrayal but she felt a light pressure in her soul mark. It flashed in her eyes for just a second before fading to barely visible. The lady at the counter had not spoken but Marinette startled when she handed her a small package. She hadn’t realized she had lost herself in thought. The ankle bangle was missing so she assumed it was in the box.

“For you Dear, it isn’t doing anyone any good in here.”

The lady walked off with her cleaning rag and did not return. Marinette exited the shop but when she turned back to look at the building the door was no longer visible where it had been.

---

Jason was still frustrated with himself for how his visit in the shop had been. He actually was not interested in demanding payment from the shop. He had a soft spot for the places that fed those who needed it. He had used them a lot when he was very young and food was scarce. He even funneled money towards a few that were more reputable and not connected to Wayne Enterprises. He hid his involvement but it was essential to keep people fed to help with the crime. Every bit he controlled made all of Gotham safer. He wanted the children to grow up with enough food and options so they did not need to resort to crime and drugs. He would consider himself a success if he was able to put himself out of business as a crime lord.

He looked down at the hair clips from the woman at the shop. He didn’t know what it was about the rubies gleaming up from them. He was drawn to them as if he were looking into the eyes of the most intoxicating person. He picked them up to look closer but still they seemed entirely ordinary aside from his unnatural fascination. He slipped them in his pocket and headed out the door. He chose to go as Jason to check out the other shops before making an appearance as Red Hood. When he got to the location he felt a tug towards one door. He headed there first before he had even realized he had made a decision.

---

Marinette heard the little tinkle of the bell on the door while she was just about literally buried in a pile of the magical books. She had been switching back and forth feeling like she was on the verge of understanding something big so of course someone was in to buy a copy or Eat Pray Love or Alan Watts just to pull her away from her possible discovery. She tried to holler that she was on the way at the same time as she extricated herself from the pile but it didn’t quite work. She tumbled over into the pile of musty, dusty books. She groaned. There was nothing magical about the number of bruises she felt developing on her side and back. She halfway pulled herself out as she heard firm boot steps headed her way. She looked up at the man towering over her. He looked only briefly before he reached down and hauled her up by her arm. He dropped it like it burned him and she pulled away from him and the tingling spot where his hand had touched her. They both felt it at the same time and they had a matching glow from the soul marks on their arms. The glow flashed bright for a moment connecting them with a beam of light and then it went into the skin leaving the mark silver and lightly reflective.

“So, I guess you are my soulmate? I’m Jason.” he said.

“I’m Marinette, and If that is what you call your warped necromancy binding to my severed soul bond to you, then that is exactly what I am.”

“You had a soulmate before? I thought mine would have been lost when I died?”

“My original soul mate betrayed me and caused a rift that detached the bond. Your dark magic attached the bond to you.”

He just stared at her for a moment.

“It is only a matter of time before I figure out how to work around your warped magic.”

“Hey, I did not do dark magic. I was murdered and brought back as a child. None of whatever you are pushing off on me is my doing. Maybe I could help you. I have been looking for answers since the mark reappeared.”

“If you say so.”

She turned and walked away. He took that as a dismissal and decided to leave and come back later. She didn’t seem very interested in him leaving any sort of contact information so he decided to head home and return later. He didn’t make it all the way. He pushed on the door and the little bell jingled but the door did not open. He checked the lock and it wasn’t locked so he tried pushing again.

It stayed sealed so he looked back to see what she was doing. Maybe she had magic she had figured out how to use against him. He noticed the glow from his pocket when he turned back. He pulled out the hair clips and looked down at them. The red gems were shining brightly against his hand. He looked back at her and she seemed to be having a similar issue with a bangle with a dangling emerald charm. It was glowing brightly like the hair clips.

Their eyes met and a dark mist fell over them inside the shop. Marinette knew what this was. She worked her way through the mist to find the books she needed and her miraculous grimoire. She motioned for him to sit and she placed the bangle on the table. She tried to connect with Tikki and Plagg in her mind. It had become increasingly difficult but she hoped the mist would guide her thoughts so she wouldn’t have to take the time to do the full ritual. The mist swirled around with the red and green auras appearing and then forming together in the air before settling over the table with the jewels. Marinette used the book she had to read out a few unfamiliar phrases after the mist settled.

Jason was confused but he felt warm and comfortable rather than uneasy so he followed her lead. He didn’t know what was happening but his soulmark was glowing and putting out a green beam of light that went across the table to twist with the red glow coming from Marinette’s soulmark. He couldn’t help himself when he reached out and picked up the bangle she had set on the table. He watched her move almost at the same moment to pick up the hair clips he had brought. The red and green in the air swirled together to make one small cloud of red and one of green as the black mist faded. The small clouds became an almost definite shape, like fairies. The black filled in around until they were creatures with eyes and mouths. The black went into each of them making them no longer solid colors but the red appeared similarly colored to a ladybug and the green appeared as a black cat with bright green eyes.

Marinette lifted the clips to the ladybug fairy and the creature pulled it inside itself. Her hand was empty. He did the same with the bangle with the cat fairy. He still had no idea what he was doing, but it all felt right. When the bangle connected with the cat fairy he felt it lift the bangle out of his hand as it pulled and it disappeared inside the form. The soul bond was tugging him. He followed the pull and ended up right in front of Marinette. Her eyes were full of hurt and concern but she allowed him to pull her to him. All at once exhaustion rolled over him. He dropped onto the cushioned armchair near him and Marinette sat right there with him.

Continued below

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@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Lazy Mornings - 1

Lazy Mornings:  A Captain America Fanfic

Lazy Mornings Masterlist | More Small Gods

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  2361

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.  (smut on series)

Synopsis: Steve Rogers has trouble taking time for himself.  When his friends set him up with a person with a very unusual skill, perhaps he can learn that the quiet moments are just as important as everything else.

A/N: Reader is a minor god.  Idea expanding on the one in my fic Lazy Sundays though it’s a completely different story (just same minor god x steve).

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THIS LET ME KNOW.

Chapter 1

Steve was on edge.  The Avengers had just come to the end of a very long, and very grueling mission.  With the lack of sleep, niggling injuries, and stress of battle, that would have been enough to have him anxious and exhausted just by itself, but Tony had insisted that they have a party to unwind while Steve still had government agencies to liaise with, paperwork to fill out, and people to question.  So instead of getting his work done so that he could sleep off his injuries and actually unwind, he had to be ‘on’ as the public figurehead of Captain America for a bunch of strangers while he was still running on less than four hours of sleep and had a cracked rib.

As he made his way through the large, open room, Steve became aware of a strange phenomenon.  The people around the door were in full party mood.  People were dancing, talking animatedly, and playing games of darts.  But as Steve moved through the room, the mood got more relaxed.  There was less dancing and more just talking and sharing drinks.  The level of the music dropped so it was more muted and even though the song never changed it somehow felt like it went from an upbeat dance number to a soothing ballad.  The light changed in the room too.  Closer to the elevator bright-colored disco lights cutting through the dark.  Whereas, by the windows, there was a soft diffused gold light, almost like early morning light coming through a gauze curtain.  By the time Steve reached the couches that were set up on a platform against the windows on the far side of the room, everyone was just lazing back on the couches, casually drinking in the soft light.

Thor, Bruce, Wanda, and Clint were all sitting together with you.  Steve didn’t recognize you, but the soft glow in the room seemed to both highlight you and make you seem like you were in soft focus. You had a slightly ruffled look like you’d woken up recently from a very good sleep.  Clint was practically curled up next to you like a cat.

“Steven!”  Thor boomed, making everyone near him jump in surprise.  “Come here, I have someone I wish for you to meet.”

Steve tried to hide the frustration that suddenly bubbled up inside him.  His friends had been trying to set him up with people for months and months now.  He’d been on countless blind dates with people he had nothing in common with, and even more dinners with surprise guests he was forced to be on with.  He hadn’t expected it from Thor and he resented the fact that even after such a grueling few weeks he needed to now play a round of the dating game.

Thor got up and approached Steve, clapping him on the shoulder as he gave your names.  He leaned in, bringing his lips to Steve’s ear.  “You may feel the urge to pull away.  Resist it - for me.”

Steve sighed and nodded as you looked up at Thor.  “You’re not staying?”  You asked.

“Not tonight,” Thor answered.  “I wish to celebrate.”

You gave him a small nod.  “Well, you know where I am if you need me.”

“I do.  Thank you,” Thor said, letting Steve go and heading back into the party where Tony was talking animatedly with Hill.

Steve took a seat near you.  Clint looked up at him with hooded eyes, like Steve had just disturbed his sleep, but not enough to properly wake him up.  There was an odd feeling of lethargy around the couches.  Not in a bad way exactly.  Just an overly relaxed sleepiness that made Steve wonder if they’d been partaking in marijuana before he’d gotten here.  Along with the sleepy-looking Clint, Wanda had her legs tucked up under her and was staring absently out the window, while Bruce was relaxed back with a goofy looking smile on his face.  It strangely had the effect of making him want to get up and leave in case he’d forgotten to do something.

“So what do you do?”  Steve asked as he resisted the urge to go back down to the office and get his work done.

You smiled and shook your head like you found the question funny.  “I like to paint,” you say.  “And I make a mean breakfast.”

Steve looked at you puzzled.  He’d never come across someone who answered that question with their hobbies rather than their job.  He wondered if you didn’t have one and were embarrassed or if you did something you didn’t think Steve would approve of.  The thought you were a HYDRA agent passed through his head and he looked over at Thor.  “How do you know Thor?”  Steve asked and Wanda started to giggle.

“We run in similar circles,” you say.  “Though I admit, I do not know him well.”

“She’s not HYDRA, Steve,” Wanda giggled.

That knowledge made Steve relax a little and you smiled at him.  “You’re holding a lot of tension, Captain Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve,” he said.  “We’ve been on a mission for weeks now.  It takes a lot of me.  Everyone really.”

You placed your hand gently on his forearm.  He normally didn’t like when strangers invaded his personal space like that.  He’d had a fair amount of sexual harassment since becoming a supersoldier.  However, there was nothing even flirtatious about the moment.  It was genuine and kind and made him relax even more.  “It can be hard to let it go,” you said.  “But you are done, and now you can take the weight off your shoulders.  No need to carry it tonight.”

Steve tilted his head.  “Are you a therapist?”

You chuckled again.  “I guess - of a sort,” you said.

Steve was perplexed by the vague nature of your answers and couldn’t help thinking people were hiding something from him like this was some big trick.  Though he couldn’t see any reason why Thor of all people would be the instigator of such a trick.

“Will you relax, Steve?”  Wanda chided.  “She’s just a girl Thor thought you’d like.”

Steve tried to do as he was told.  He had to admit that it wasn’t easy though.  You definitely had a calming influence.  Despite the loud music and drinking happening in the rest of the room, at the couches, it was like a slumber party.  Bruce looked as relaxed as Steve had ever seen him, his whole body open and still as he talked calmly.  Clint dozed on and off, waking to join in on the conversation and then dropping back off to sleep again, while Wanda was giggly, and about an hour in she said she was going to go to bed and paint her toenails.

Whatever it was that was affecting the others, Steve could feel it too, but in the middle of what was a raging party, Steve was unwilling to completely relax.

“You don’t like it here much, do you?”  You asked.

Steve shrugged.  “I don’t mind a party sometimes, but no… not today.”

“I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve had a home-cooked meal,” you mused.  “Would you like to come back to my place?”

“No,” Clint whined as Steve balked.  “Don’t go.”

“I don’t… that’s probably not a good idea,”  Steve said.

“I meant for dinner, Steve,” you said.  “I promise, no funny business.”

Clint sat up and stretched.  “You should do it, Steve,” he said.  “Live a little.”

Steve looked at Clint and Bruce who were both nodding in approval.  He sighed and gave a small shrug.  “I guess I’m coming then.”

You got up and offered your hand.  “Come on, I won’t bite.”

He let you lead him out of the Tower and down into the street where you flagged down a cab.  “I don’t usually do this,” Steve said, as he sat in the back with you.

“I know,” you said.  “That’s why Thor set us up.”

“You’re not…” he stopped, not sure how to ask the question that was swirling in his mind right now and have it not come out as either offensive or judgmental.  “Are you a sex worker?”

You smiled and shook your head.  “No.  I like my bed though.”

“Why are you being so vague then?”  Steve asked.

“I can tell you if you really want to know,” you said.  “But Thor thought you might fight it more if you knew.”

Steve tensed up and shifted away from you a little.  “Do the others know?”

“Oh, yes,” you said.  “And I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me, but I promise what it is, won’t hurt you.  I’m not evil or malicious.  I am not here because I have to be or I’ve been paid to be.  You truly have just been set up with a woman.  And I am that.  I like you and I just want to take you somewhere you can relax and just enjoy a comforting meal.  That’s all.  If you don’t trust your friend on this, just say.  I’ll tell you.”

Steve looked you over, trying to see the lie or the trick.  All he could see was genuine kindness.  He gave a nod.  “Okay.  Will you tell me eventually?”

“Of course,” you said.  “When we’re both sure of how we feel about each other, I’ll tell you.”

The cab pulled up at a block of apartments on the upper west side.  It was a large pre-war building, the kind that has been romanticized in hundreds of films and costs more than most people could dream of earning to live in.

He followed you in and the two of you rode the elevator up to your floor quietly.  The tall ceilings and recessed walls of the hall brought him right back to his childhood.  You let him into your apartment and for a moment Steve felt like he’d stepped into a storybook.  The light was soft and diffused, filling the room with a hazy golden luminescence.  The furniture all looked inviting and cozy, the deep soft-looking couches all had cozy mink throws on them and a collection of fat plush cushions.  There were a few large bookshelves both filled with a mixture of books and board games.  Your TV was large but not obnoxiously so, and your coffee table was littered with candles, magazines, and books.

“Get comfortable,” you said as you headed into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the living room.

Steve took a moment to look around your apartment.  There was something about the room that reminded him of the way he and Bucky decorated.  You had a different taste to either man.  Steve was more into straight lines and dark wood, and Bucky like black and chrome, whereas you seemed to lean more into creams with splashes of color here and there.  However, like with him and Bucky, you had a mix of old and new.  Steve liked to keep things from his past whether they be actual things he had owned or just items that reminded him of his mother or times with Bucky.  The things you owned seemed to go back further than what he owned, but there was a lot that seemed to center around the nineteen-twenties.  Though they didn’t stop there.  There were items representative of various decades littering your apartment.  From depression-glass bowls to porcelain animals from the sixties to a lava lamp and a small collection of Pez Dispensers.

Steve noticed a copy of the Hobbit that looked remarkably like the copy he got when it came out.  Picking up several books he noticed that many were first editions.

He went and sat down more confused about who you were than he had been before.  You came out with a tray and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.  Each was laden with pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and fresh fruit.

“It’s a little late for breakfast,” Steve said, looking at you with his eyebrow raised.

You shrugged.  “I’m good at a few things, but this is the one that’s quickest,” you explained.  “Otherwise we’d be up for a few more hours while I cooked.”

“Breakfast food it is,” he said and started to eat.  You took your plate and sat back, crossing your legs under you and balancing your plate in your lap.  “You have an interesting collection,” Steve said, gesturing to one of your bookshelves.

“Thank you.  I try not to get too sentimental about what I keep and let go,” you said.  “I know it’s a little eclectic but there are some things I just can’t let go of.”

“How long have you lived here?”  Steve asked.

“A long time. Practically forever,” you answered

Steve wanted to ask you what you did for you to be able to afford living here but knew that would meet the same vague answer - so he let it drop and ate.  The food was good.  Warm and sweet and full of fat.  It wasn’t long until Steve began to feel sleepy and content.  You took the plates back away and when you returned to the living room, Steve was practically asleep on the couch.  You came over and gently touched his arm.

“It would be more comfortable in bed,” you whispered.

“I don’t… I never sleep with women on the first date,” he replied, sheepishly trying to fight the drowsiness pulling him down.

“I have a spare room if you want it,” you said gently.   “Though I just mean sleep.”

Steve stood slowly and followed you down the hall.  You opened the spare bedroom.  “This is my guest room.”

“And your bedroom?”  He asked, part of him wondering if you’d drugged him.

“The end of the hall,” you replied, taking a few steps toward it.  He followed you down and as he stripped down to his undershirt you changed into a soft pair of pajamas.

He climbed into the bed with you and you wrapped him in your arms.  As he drifted off to sleep, he thought how strange it was that he felt as comfortable as he did right now.

// NEXT

[maysbanks]

dancing in the dark.

it’s been a hot minute and some of y’all will be surprised that this came from me as i’m very anti rafe but i’ve been in a drew mood for the past couple of weeks and this kinda came from that so enjoy lmao. also i’ll come back and put the read more on tomorrow sorry i’m lazy and wrote this on my phone lol (just imagine this an au kinda thing ok)

this includes rafe being sex on legs, oral sex (female receiving), swearing, mention of alcohol and drug use etc

you’re forced to go to midsummer’s by your friends and the night ends up unexpectedly with rafe cameron three fingers deep in you

“Do you think I should wear a bra with this?” You looked over to Kiara who was stood in front of her wide mirror littered with Polaroids of you and the gang, summer yellow dress held up to her half naked body as she assessed her appearance. Your eyes rolled, a heavy sigh emitting from your lips.

“I don’t know Kie, how about you not wear the dress at all and ditch the Kook fest and stay in with me?” You tried, (about your thousandth attempt at getting her to see sense and not force you to go to Midsummer’s with her), but all you got in return was another eye roll and laugh from your curly haired friend, who turned and sent you one of her signature ‘I’m very much done with your shit’ looks.

“We’re going,” she stressed, and you whined, throwing your body back atop her bed and holding a pillow over your face in silent protest. “Stop being such a baby and get over yourself. We’re all going, it’s not like I’m just feeding you to the lions.”

She had a point, but you refused to admit it. You’d be in a mood all night if it meant you were to attend Midsummer’s, which Kie was forcing all of you to go to. She was the only Kook in your group of friends, which meant she was the only one that attended the party every year, but this year John B was also invited along due to Sarah Cameron being his girlfriend (he’d protested just as much as you when he first found out), and Pope would be there anyway because him and his dad would be working there for the night with their barbecue, and so Kie had the bright idea to invite the remaining two of you along; you and JJ.

If you were throwing a hissy fit, then JJ would be ten times worse. You could just imagine him stomping his booted feet as he refused to put on the suit that John B forced him to rent, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d somehow managed to crawl out of a window and escape the desperate clutches of his best friend. The thought almost made you laugh out loud, but then you remembered you were in a mood and clamped your lips shut beneath the silky purple pillow you still held captive over your head.

“Please don’t make me go,” you pleaded. You grunted when a sudden weight landed on your abdomen, the pillow you were clutching wrenched from your hands and thrown across the room, your eyes landing on Kiara’s who frowned down at you from her position straddling your waist. (If anyone were to walk in then and there and see you both half naked on her bed you were sure you’d give them a heart attack.) “Please, Kie. I’m begging you.”

Kie sighed. “It’s one night, you can manage for one night ‘kay. I’ve been doing this practically my whole life and I’ve survived, so can you.” You groaned at her matter of fact tone, huffing when she shifted her weight and gripped your cheeks in her hands, effectively cutting off any whining you were about to do and squishing your face between her hands. “Now, shut up moaning, get off my bed, and get dressed. You look so hot, and you’re going to look even hotter in that dress.” Her face suddenly changed, the stern glare morphing into a cheeky grin. “Who knows, maybe your night will end up with you on your knees.”

“Ugh, Kie!” You groaned, shoving her off of you and trying your best to ignore her cackle that had your lips quirking upward. Sending her a quick glare, you eyed the dress she chose for you that was hanging on her wardrobe door. “Fine, I‘ll go. But I’ll be complaining the whole time.”

• • •

Turned out Kiara was right, you did look hot in your dress. It wasn’t often that you did dress up, being a Pogue in the Outer Banks there was never really any reason to, and it’s not like you could afford it anyway. You really didn’t want to know how much the dress you were wearing cost, the expensive feeling fabric enough to make you cringe. It was pretty, the emerald green a stark contrast to Kie’s light yellow, the smooth silk cooling you down in the humid summer evening. It was a deep plunge, the sides of your boobs mildly exposed enough to have people turning their heads or dipping their eyes down to catch a glance. The skirt fell mid length just a bit under your knees, but your legs were exposed nicely due to the slits on both sides that began at your mid thigh. With a pair of heels that you also borrowed from Kie’s wardrobe, you had to admit you looked the part and some more for an evening at Midsummer’s.

“Holy shit,” Pope breathed when he saw you, standing alone at the grill he would be tending to for most of the night. “You’re wearing a dress.”

“Nice observation skills, Caption Obvious,” you sassed, still in a bitter mood over your attendance at the event but feeling a little better with a beer in your hands. Your lips curled in mild disgust as you glanced around you, everywhere you looked a rich and stuck up Kook would be stood there, nursing their expensive cocktails and whiskey with the finest suits and dresses on as they made idle chat about where they’d be vacationing to and what newest model of car they’d just gotten. “I can’t believe I’m here. Midsummer’s sucks.”

Pope nodded in agreement to your statement, looking away from you briefly to flip over a burger sizzling on the grill. “Least you haven’t got it as bad as John B, Sarah’s been at him all day, making sure that he turns up. Poor guy has no idea what’s coming for him, spending the night talking to Ward and all his rich buddies.”

Just as Pope mentioned the man’s name, said man and his family appeared at the door of the country club, making their grand entrance as usual, all eyes turning to gawk as the Cameron family stride in, Ward and Rose in front (you tried not to stare too hard at the concoction atop the blonde woman’s head, it would hurt your eyes), Wheezie just behind them, grinning at the attention she was receiving, Sarah a little behind her, dragging along an embarrassed looking John B on her arm (you and Pope shared a look and snorted simultaneously).

Your eyes, however, upon returning on the Cameron clan, suddenly couldn’t look away from the person right at the back of the group, dragging his feet with a small frown on his pink lips and hands in his pockets as he ignored all extended hands held out for him to shake and instead assessed the crowd stood beneath him, as if looking for someone. You took the time to glance him over, appreciating the way his body looked in a light grey suit, black dress shirt beneath complimenting the outfit perfectly. You’d noticed his hair a bit ago, the times you’d crossed paths or seen him around town you couldn’t help but notice it - he’d stopped gelling it and wore the dark blonde strands freely, letting it flop on his forehead in a way you thought attractive. From the last time you’d seen him he’d obviously gotten in a fight (not surprising for his character), as he was sporting a bruised cheek on his right side. All in all, he looked fucking good. And you hated to admit it, because he was Rafe Cameron. And you were meant to hate Rafe Cameron.

When his light blue eyes landed on you though, all thoughts of that kind left your mind and all that was left was the ones that had you mentally undressing him. As if knowing your exact thoughts, his lips curled into a smirk as he stared you down, neither of you breaking the contact. That lasted a whole 56 seconds (were you counting?) before the trance was broken for you, and you were knocked on the shoulder by an aggressively big hand that belonged to JJ Maybank.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m here right now,” he whined in a high pitched voice, Kie on his other side rolling her eyes, Pope chuckling amusedly at his friend. You ignored them all, turning your head back desperately hoping that Rafe hadn’t moved in the few seconds you looked away, your heart hammering wildly in your chest when he realised no, he had not, and was still staring at you from across the lawn, this time his eyes swooping down your figure and taking you all in, a hand rested at his jaw and fingers dangerously close to his lips as he did. When he was finished, he caught your eyes again, this time sending you a wink and a smile when all you could do was stare back with parted lips. “Hellooo, is anyone in there?”

You turned briefly to JJ who along with Pope and Kiara was staring at you and sending you confused looks, and you swallowed as you questioned them, handing JJ the drink in your hands he requested and denying the offer of weed. The three sent you crazed glares when you refused, after all weren’t you the one that downright refused to attend and made a big deal out of it and specifically said ‘that somebody had better smuggle in some good booze and weed to get me through the night’. But all that had left your mind the minute your eyes landed on Rafe Cameron, and you had other ideas on how to get through the night - hopefully ending up with you sat on his dick.

When you looked back at where Rafe was stood, however, you were disheartened to see that he’d moved, and when you looked around the lawn to try and spot him you saw him stood in the midst of a conversation with Topper and Kelce, his mouth moving and his words directed at them, but his eyes still on you.

Your lips pulled into a small smirk as you decided waiting a while wouldn’t hurt, if it meant the night would end up how you wanted it to, which you were positive it would as Rafe licked his lips, slowly and purposely, his eyes dancing along your figure. You just hoped it would be soon, because you weren’t sure how long you could last without feeling his hands on you.

• • •

“Fuck, these heels are so uncomfortable,” you muttered, stood off to the side with the gang as you sneakily passed vodka disguised in a water bottle between the five of you, John B having escaped the clutches of Ward Cameron and his rich buddies to join you all in complaining and making fun of the festivities that Midsummer included.

“Take em off,” John B suggested with a careless shrug, yours and Kiara’s shared scoff at the possibility of it making him frown.

JJ grinned lazily, “Nah, nah, what she needs to take off is that dress,” he gestured to you, finger pointing accusingly at your semi exposed chest. “I mean, is there even any point in wearing anything? You might as well, y’know, liven up this party while you’re at it.”

“In your dreams, Maybank,” you rolled your eyes, taking a swig of the bitter alcohol when Pope passed it to you, ignoring JJ’s return of ‘oh trust me, it will be’. “I have other plans on how to liven up this party anyways, for me, at least.”

Kie’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” She voiced the gang’s thoughts, waving a hand in dismissal as the alcohol was offered to her, holding a hand on her stomach to show that she’d had enough and felt sick. You just grinned cheekily, taking a hit of the vodka next when Pope also refused.

As if he knew exactly what you were just talking about, a voice suddenly sounded from somewhere behind you, the distinct attractiveness of it causing your head to turn and your eyes to meet Rafe’s as he stood a bit away from you and the gang, hands once again in his pockets of his slacks as he seemingly ignored the rest of your friends, eyes only on you. A smile made its way onto your face without you even realising, and it was as if John B had been shot right in the stomach when he came to the realisation, a loud groan of protest leaving his mouth.

“C’mon, you can’t be serious,” he practically pleaded, the remaining three of your friends still clueless and confused as to what was going on as they chorused their questions. You ignored them all, shoving the near empty bottle into John B’s hands and sending the guys a wide smirk and wink before you turned on your heels and made your way towards where Rafe was seemingly waiting, a smug smirk on his own pretty pink lips. “Oh my god, she is! She actually is!”

You were too far away by the time you made it to Rafe to hear exactly what your friends were saying, but you were close enough to hear their collected groans of disgust and exclaims of protest when John B had finally explained what was happening. You payed no mind, even when JJ shouted after you in warning, your feet landing you right in front of Rafe. The dirty blonde swiped his tongue over his teeth as he took you in so up close, his eyes glistening under the shine of the fairy lights hung up all over. He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he glanced over your shoulder, taking note of your foul faced friends.

“Seems like they don’t want you to come with me,” he spoke in a low voice, the rumble of it so close to you and the suggestion of his words sending shivers down your body and right to your core.

You shrugged simply. “I don’t really give a fuck.” You informed him promptly, your words making a grin form on his face.

“Then let’s go, baby.” You wasted no time in taking his outstretched hand, letting him lead you away from the crowd and out towards the back. You had to put your full trust in him then, you had no idea as to anything about the country club, had no possible clue as to where he was taking you, but you found no issue in trusting him, the need for him to fuck you senseless the only thing staying in your mind.

It was when you landed in a hallway upon entering the building from a back door when he let go of your hand and instead raised them to your face, pulling you close to his body and your head near his as he pressed his lips against yours with a certain kind of desperation you’d never felt before. You gasped into his mouth at the intensity of it, hands moving to grip his hair between your fingers as he backed you up and pressed you flush against a wall, his knee resting between your legs.

When he pressed it slightly against you, you couldn’t do anything else but moan into his hot kiss, heavy rasps of breath escaping your chest. Rafe pulled back slightly, cheeks flushed and lips cherry red, his pupils dilated and staring you down. He did the same action, watching you this time, and when you moaned just a little bit louder and threw your head back to bang against the wall, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, Rafe let out a low groan. “You’re so fucking hot,” he mumbled as he pressed up against you once more, hands at your hips and bundling your dress between his large digits, causing the fabric to ride up your legs just a little. “Dressed up all nice, your tits fucking perfect and practically pooling out, you like the attention on you don’t you, baby?”

You never thought you did until now, but you weren’t about to tell him that, simply nodding your head at his words in an attempt to make him kiss you again with those beautifully sinful lips. Rafe did no such thing though, instead looking to you with those pretty blue eyes as he gripped the dress tighter in his palms, the fabric moving higher, exposing more and more, his thigh pressing to you again. You let out a whine at the feel of it, lips parting in pleasure at his actions. “Let me hear you say it, baby. Say you like the attention.”

“I like it,” you gasped out, desperate for him to do something, anything, even in this dimly lit hallway where anyone could catch the both of you. “I like it so fucking much, Rafe. I like the feel of eyes on me, especially yours.”

Rafe moaned low in his throat, one hand moving to grip your jaw as he kissed you, lips moving open with yours and slipping his tongue in your mouth, the grip he had tightening ever so slightly the more time that went by. You had no idea when he'd picked you up, forcing your legs around his waist and pressing you further into the wall, his lips leaving yours to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, chest and shoulders. You almost lost it completely when he trailed further down, following the plunge of your dress and kissing the space between your tits, sucking ever so gently. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moaned when his body seemed to go down with his head, ending up with you practically sitting on his squatted knees as he gripped your sides with his large palms, holding your body to him tightly as he continued his trail of warm and wet kisses on your exposed skin.

Rafe allowed his tongue to lick a stripe of your exposed tit on your left side, the whine that emitted from your lips at his sinful action echoing in the hallway. Rafe pulled his head back from you, eyes blown wide as he looked to you. “Fucking Christ, do you wanna get caught baby?”

At the half-assed shake of your head, too desperate to feel his mouth back on you, his hands trailed down your body and instead clutched your ass, holding you possessively to him as he straightened his knees and stood straight, a gasp emitting from your lips when he did so and caused friction right to your pussy at the movement. Rafe seemed to realise what he did at the same time you did, and the moan that left his own mouth was one you never wanted to forget. “Fuck, let’s get you out of here.”

The best place available in the country club turned out to be the family bathroom. You had no time to dwell on how big the space was, almost as big as your entire living room in your house, before you were set down on the marble counter and pulled back to Rafe’s mouth once more. You wasted no time in returning his hot kiss, your hands at the back of his neck as his slid under the slits of your dress and clutched your thighs for a few seconds before trailing higher and landing one hand over your thin panties, cupping your pussy.

“Fuck me,” you moaned loudly. Rafe grinned against your lips, pearly white teeth clashing with your own.

“That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he mumbled against you and you panted as he started to move down your body, peppering kisses along your body on his way, before he landed between your legs, his palms on your knees as he kneeled on his own. “Open your legs,” he demanded and you did as asked with no hesitation, causing him to chuckle darkly. “Needy aren’t we, baby?”

Of fucking course you were, you wanted to say. You’d been waiting for this all night, you wished to speak. But you bit your tongue, not wanting to delay any action any further. When you didn’t answer, however, Rafe tugged on the back of your knees slightly, causing your ass to slip from the counter a little bit, your pussy more exposed and closer to his face as he awaited your response. “Yes, Rafe! I’m fucking needy.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, and you whined lightly when he blew on your core, goosebumps forming on your skin. Rafe bundled your dress in his warm palms, moving it so it was above your hips and you were fully on show to him, your white lace panties completely soaked through. Rafe groaned at the sight, looking at your pussy like it was water and he hadn’t had a drink in days. “So fucking wet,” he muttered, more to himself than you, and you weren’t sure if he wanted an answer to that but he didn’t wait for one anyway, pulling your panties down your legs and throwing them carelessly behind him. “I’ve been waiting for your pretty pussy all night.”

“Oh god,” you moaned when his fingers trailed along you, large digits on either side of your clit as he pressed them together and grinned when you screamed at the friction. You watched as his dirty blonde head went between your thighs, and felt his hot mouth on you not a second later. He was so fucking good, you thought, you never wanted this to end even though it had only just started, not wanting to waste another minute of your life without Rafe Cameron between your thighs.

His tongue was leaving long trails, and he flattened it out against you making you shiver. One hand left your knee to grip the back of your calf as he slipped his tongue in your pussy, your head banging against the mirror behind you. His fingers followed after, his tongue leaving you only to be replaced by his long digits as you moaned helplessly from above him, one hand gripping the counter while the other tugged on his hair. When you pulled particularly hard on the strands, he would hum against you and it would send a whole new wave of pleasure throughout your body that you had to stop yourself from screaming too loudly every time.

You could distinctly hear the beat of the music coming from the party occurring outside, the beginning of Bruce Springsteen’s smooth voice hitting your ears as he sang along to Dancing In the Dark, before the sound was replaced by your own scream as Rafe entered a second finger into your pussy, his tongue sucking on your clit simultaneously.

Everything was too much and you weren’t sure how much more you could take, feeling the familiar build of light pressure in your belly as you managed to rasp out, “Rafe, I’m gonna cum,” into the room, and you weren’t even sure he heard you before he pulled his face away, his fingers moving at a perfect rhythm and pace still within you.

“Hold it, baby,” he was saying, blue eyes staring up into your own as you shook your head in a silent plea, begging to be able to let go. The hand that wasn’t fucking you reached up under your dress and found your tit, fondling it in his palm and lightly squeezing your nipple between the rough pads of his fingertips. “C’mon baby, just a second. You think you can take another finger?”

You were practically seeing stars already, your orgasm right there within reach, but you nodded despite yourself, wanting this wonderful feeling to never end. Rafe smiled as he moved his head in closer again, pressing a kiss to your clit as he mumbled, “That’s my girl,” into you before adding another finger as promised, three fingers deep in your cunt.

The feel of his fingers fucking you, his mouth upon you, the excitement of the night and thrill of the possibility of getting caught in the bathroom at the country club, mixed with the thud of the music and low groans from Rafe was evading every one of your thoughts and you couldn’t think clearly, you weren’t even sure what you were doing, but you knew that you were begging, praising, screaming into the thick air that the pair of you had created. Rafe’s head was still buried deep between your thighs, and the sight of him down there could have ended you in itself.

“Cum for me, baby,” the vibration of his voice on your cunt had you gasping, fingers knotting in his hair as your spine curled so much that your forehead was pressed against the cool glass of the mirror you were seated against, shoving your pussy further up into his mouth and effectively causing his fingers to curl beautifully inside you. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let go.”

It hit you like a train: your vision blurred, your chest heaved, your stomach clenched, and your legs and arms turned to jelly. Throughout it all Rafe still remained there, fingers buried in you and riding out your orgasm with you. His mouth detached from your pussy and he chose to watch you come undone by him instead, his cherry red lips parted in amazement as he watched you scream from above him. You gasped as you felt his fingers leave you, opening your eyes to watch him take the soaked digits into his mouth and suck them clean, a moan of approval leaving his mouth at the taste. You had no time to register him going back in, his mouth back on your pussy and licking you clean of your cum, a loud and needy whine falling past your lips at the sight.

When he pulled back, a satisfied smile upon his glistening lips, he wasted no time in leaning up and pressing back against you, one arm curling round your back and pulling you flush against him, the other in your hair as he kissed you, the taste of you on his tongue.

“I think you should come to Midsummer’s more often,” he mumbled, and you smiled against his lips, legs wrapping around his waist and heels pressing to his ass causing him to rub against your exposed core.

“If it’s gonna end up with me getting fucked by you in the bathroom every time, then I don’t see why I should complain.” You cheekily taunted, your own lips moving along his jaw.

Rafe growled low in his throat, his blue eyes catching his reflection in the mirror behind you, watching as you sucked on his neck. He grinned to himself, a hand palming your ass as he watched.

“How about I fuck you right now against this counter and make you watch, huh?”

(Fuck, maybe Midsummer’s wasn’t so bad as you originally thought after all.)

[nah-she-didnt]

JILY AUGUST CHALLENGE | @nah-she-didnt vs @floreatcastellumposts

summer + ok so I almost drowned in the sea whilst body boarding and yeah you saved me but hEY don’t laugh

Read here or on AO3

Lily Of The Sea

Absolutely mental. He must have been absolutely mental to agree to any part of this.

First, there was the fact that he had chosen to spend a week in Wales with Remus when he should have been training for football season. That decision alone would surely ruin his life when he showed up back at school completely out of shape and got booted from the team.

Second, while James liked spending time with one of his best mates, Wales was bloody boring. Remus lived in a charming little cottage with his charming parents in a charming town that had absolutely nothing for a couple of teenage boys to do. There wasn’t even a damn cinema for them to waste away in for the summer. Really, how did people live like this? It was only out of sheer boredom that he’d agreed to spend the day at the beach in the first place. He usually made it a point to avoid the beach at all costs, but these were desperate times indeed.

Herein lay James’ third, and stupidest, decision. He must have been absolutely bloody mental to agree to wade out into the frigid mass of water before him that was the sea.

He turned to throw Remus another reproachful look. “Do I have to do this?”

“Yes!” Remus called over from his spot on the shore. He looked perfectly content, and dry, as he watched James’ slow march to his certain death. “Your fear of open water is, frankly, embarrassing. It’s high time you nipped it in the bud.”

James winced as the water lapped at his shins, blistering his sun-warmed skin with icy cold. “I thought you said you were right behind me?”

Remus grinned. “Oh, you don’t need me. You’re doing brilliantly.” James couldn’t help but notice the mirth in his friend’s voice.

It was true, he did harbor an embarrassing fear of the sea. And why shouldn’t he? The water was so dark you could barely see three inches below the surface. Surely some unknown horror came closer with every step.

James swore loudly. “Rem, I hate this. It’s bloody freezing!”

“It’s the Irish Sea, what do you expect?”

“Damn the Irish then!”

“Mate, you’re English, I don’t think you’re allowed to say that.”

And so, James plowed onward, cursing Remus under his breath. The water was now up to his knees. He could feel the hair on his legs standing at attention as goosebumps emerged from his skin.

However, as he became more and more submerged, something in James began to change. The water was so cold it nearly took his breath away but it also filled him with a new resolve. It wasn’t so bad, really. He could do this.

With that thought, he plunged forward, brought his hands together above his head, and dove straight into an oncoming wave.

He hadn’t been prepared for how quiet underwater was. He was vaguely aware of the wave crashing above his head, but the force of it merely rocked him backward gently. He tried his best to open his eyes but the saltwater stung so fiercely that he shut them tight again. After a few moments of floating beneath the waves, James found his feet below him again and pushed up toward the surface.

He heard Remus’ triumphant whoop as his head broke the surface. He straightened up, embarrassed to find that the water was only about three feet deep, and shook his hair out of his eyes like a dog. “There,” he shouted in Remus’ direction, “I’ve done it. Now, will you come out here with me, please? I don’t need a bloody babysitter.”

Remus sighed loudly. “Yeah alright. Plus, if you drown, I’m sure you’d rather be saved by a fit lifeguard than by me.”

“Too true.”

They spent the next half hour lounging in the water. It was still freezing cold, but James found that it did not bother him so much now. The sun, in a rare moment of favor, had decided to shine bright and warm on the beach today. Remus showed James how to lie back and float so that his top half could be drenched in warmth while his back half rocked with the waves. The effect was actually quite lovely. Perhaps he wasn’t so mental after all.

It was at this very moment that he heard the muffled sound of a whistle.

“Wha-?” James said stupidly as he sat up from his float, pulling his head and ears out of the water so that he could hear properly, “what was that? Remus?”

But Remus was gone. It was only then that James realized how far he had floated from the safety of the beach. He was at least twenty yards away from the shore now, and Remus was not only a few feet away as he previously thought. James whipped his head around frantically. “Remus!”

“Riptide!” Remus’ voice called from somewhere behind him. He turned to see his friend scrambling up the beach through the surf. “Swim parallel to the beach! Now!”

Shit.

This was why he avoided the ocean. What the hell was a riptide? It certainly didn’t sound good.

James flapped his arms wildly as he swam, trying his best to stay parallel to the shore. Now he could feel the pull of the water on his body, coaxing him further and further out into the vast sea. He had to keep swimming. He had to, otherwise how on earth would he be able to murder Remus?

“You’re a bloody bastard, you know that?” James screamed to his friend as he fought against the sea, “You made me come out here!” He was closer to the shore now, almost at the wave breakpoint, only ten yards from where Remus stood.

“I know, I know, keep going!” Remus called, “You’re almost there.”

James fought with all his might to keep swimming. He really was out of shape after all, but he forced the thought from his mind as he struggled. Nearly there.

Finally, he made it back to the shallows. He stood with a great effort and began to stagger drunkenly toward Remus. “I can’t believe you left me out there alone! You smug toss-”

WHAM.

The wave hit James squarely in the back, knocking him hard into the rough, rocky beach.

His cheek caught the edge of a sharp rock. He felt his skin rip and sting fiercely, but he had bigger problems before him. The strength of the retreating wave was dragging him, helplessly, back into the deep. He tried to stand but he had no idea which way was up. The fall had knocked the wind out of him, and for a moment he truly wondered if he was about to drown.

Then, suddenly, there was warmth. Hands - yes, small, warm hands - wrapped protectively around his chest. Then there were arms, a torso pressed against his back. The last thing he felt before everything went dark was the mysterious body pulling him up, up, up.

...

“Is he dead?”

“Don’t be daft.”

“I’m not. Look at him. He looks dead.”

“He’s not dead, you idiot. He’s breathing just fine. What did you leave him out there for? He can barely swim.”

“We were floating! I didn’t know how far he’d drifted.”

The first thing James noticed was the warmth. His whole body tingled with a warm glow in sharp contrast to the freezing water. The water. Where was the water?

James snapped his eyes open. Two blurry faces swam above him. Remus, who looked concerned, but James only had eyes for the other face that hovered above him. A girl’s face. A very pretty girl’s face.

James blinked. “Am I dead?”

“Apparently not,” Remus sighed, “Christ, James, you really know how to make a scene.”

James barely heard this comment. The girl continued to stare at him, her brow furrowed. She didn’t look all that excited to find that he was alive. The more she looked at him, the more James felt that he’d seen this girl somewhere before.

“Who are you?” He whispered up to her. He hadn’t meant to say it, but he still wasn’t sure that she was not a dream.

“Hold still.” She spoke with a practiced, authoritative voice as she turned away from him to rummage through a red bag at her side. She withdrew a white package that she tore open with her teeth, pulled out a wet cloth, and brought it to his face.

James gasped as the cut on his cheek seared with pain. “Ouch! Blimey, what is that?”

“Rubbing alcohol,” she said, again with that focused voice, “don’t want it getting infected. What month is it?”

“Uh-”

“Evans, let him rest,” Remus protested, “he’s just had a shock.”

The girl shook her head. “We’ve got to make sure he’s not concussed. The month, Potter, what month is it?”

“August,” he said stupidly, “it’s August.”

“Who’s the Prime Minister?”

“Wilson.”

“What’s your name?”

“James Potter, what’s yours?”

This seemed to surprise her. The look of concentration slid from her face as she regarded him cautiously. “Lily.”

James squinted up at her with curiosity. “Of the valley?”

Get it together, you prat said a voice in his head, what a stupid thing to-

To his surprise, she smiled, and his heart did a backflip. “Yeah, sure.” Then she shook her head as if to rid herself of the distraction. “You’re going to be fine. Can you stand?”

James nodded and allowed Remus to pull him roughly to his feet. He steadied himself and reached instinctively up to his throbbing cheek. Lily smacked his hand away.

“What did I just say about infection? Blimey, maybe you are concussed.”

James wracked his throbbing brain. Everything was still a bit fuzzy, but now he was sure that he’d seen this girl before. “How did you know my name?”

Lily shot Remus a knowing look. “We go to school together. In Scotland. Remember?”

James felt his cheeks grow hot. That’s how he knew her, he’d seen Remus hanging around with a cute redhead before. “Ah - yeah, ‘course. Sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

She shrugged as she bent down to pack up her first aid kit. “Why would you? I’m not a footballer, not a posh kid, no big deal.”

James frowned. “I have plenty of friends who aren’t footballers or ‘posh kids,’” he said as he made quotation marks with his fingers. It was hard to keep the defensive edge out of his voice. She made him sound quite shallow. He motioned earnestly toward his friend. “Take Remus over here.”

“Thanks, mate.”

“Anytime.”

“Look,” Lily straightened back up, a look of annoyance on her face, “I’m sure you’ve got lots of friends and all, I just meant that we don’t exactly run in the same crowd.”

“But you know Remus. I heard you call him an idiot before.” James glanced at Remus, who looked like he wasn’t sure if he should stay for this tense conversation or disappear back into the safety of the water. “He only lets his very best friends call him that.”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “Really? His friends sound swell.”

Remus, still looking uncomfortable, finally cut in. “We knew each other before school,” he said quickly, looking from James to Lily, “from when we were kids.”

Lily nodded. She was starting to look downright testy now, but James could not for the life of him figure out why. “I used to spend the summers here with my aunt, and we met as kids. We used to go swimming on this beach all the time.” Her face softened at the memory. “It was lovely, actually. I used to love to swim. Haven’t had much time for it lately, until today.”

“Why not?” James persisted. It seemed that every question he asked did nothing more than to elevate her already defensive mood. He couldn’t help it, he had to keep talking to her. Had to keep making her cheeks flush like that.

Lily jerked her head back toward the lifeguard stand. “Don’t have much time, I spent most of my days working here ‘till sunset.”

“Ah,” James pulled what he hoped looked like a sympathetic face, “I see. Not a fun way to spend a holiday, I can imagine.”

Very unfortunately this seemed to be the worst thing he could have possibly said.

“Yeah, well. Some of us have to work to live.” She caught Remus’ eye and said with purpose, “Right. I’ll see you at school, Remus.” And with that, she turned and stalked away, leaving a very stunned James in her wake.

...

“You really cocked that up, huh?.”

“Cheers.”

“No, I mean it. Now she probably thinks you’re some stuck-up, rich brat. Really excellent job on that one.”

“I’m leaving.”

Remus laughed as he grabbed James’ elbow and pulled him back down to sit on the beach. “Christ, you’re touchy today. I’m sorry I almost let you drown, alright?”

James stared out over the glowing pink water. The sea was no less ominous even in the light of the early sunset. He could still feel the waves lapping at his shins, the force of the water smacking his bare back, the pull of the water as he struggled beneath the waves…

He shook his head at the memory. He was safe now, anyway. Thanks to Lily.

“Do you think I’m a stuck up, rich brat?” He refused to look at Remus as he asked the question. Instead, he picked up a large, rough stone and chucked it into the water.

Remus put a hand on his shoulder. “No James, I don’t think that. I think you’re a kind, loyal, and caring rich brat.”

James laughed. “Cheers, mate.”

“Anytime.”

“Give her some time and Lily will see it too. Speaking of...” Remus nodded in the direction behind James.

He turned to see Lily Evans walking toward them. She had pulled a pair of denim shorts over her red lifeguard’s bathing suit, slung a large blue tote bag over her shoulder, and held a half-melted vanilla ice cream cone in each hand.

“Hiya,” she offered as she took a seat next to Remus. James couldn’t tell if it was nerves or embarrassment that kept her from meeting his eyes. “These are for you two. I’m sorry I was a bit harsh before. I mean, you did almost drown, after all.”

James smiled as he accepted the ice cream. “Thanks. And thanks for this, too.”

Remus, however, waved her away as she offered him the cone. “No thanks, I don’t eat dairy.”

James frowned. “You love dairy. I’ve seen you put away an entire wheel of brie in under ten minutes.”

Remus shook his head and stood up, stretching. “No, really. Can’t stand the stuff. I better go find something else more digestible, leave you two alone to talk.”

Lily shot him a dirty look. Remus could not be more transparent if he tried. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

But Remus was already walking back up the beach. “Too late, see you in a bit!”

“Rem!” James called to his friend, but he merely waved his arm wildly over his head in farewell.

They sat in silence for a few moments with only the crashing of the waves to break the tension. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. James watched her fidget as he finished his cone. He wondered if it were uncomfortable to sit in those shorts with the back of her legs pressed against the small, jagged rocks that made up the beach. But he couldn’t let himself think for too long about her legs.

“So,” she broke the silence with what sounded like a great effort, “why can’t you swim?”

James sighed. “Oh, let’s just say it’s none of your concern,” he couldn’t bring himself to admit something so embarrassing, “why don’t you like posh kids?”

Lily, to his surprise, laughed. “None of your concern.”

“Are you sure about that? Since I’m apparently an insufferable rich kid maybe I can provide an inside scoop.”

Lily did not laugh this time. Instead, she stared out over the ocean, her vivid green eyes suddenly orange, reflecting the sunset’s light in the choppy water. “I’ve got a friend from school. Well, a friend from home, really. He’s like me, doesn’t have a lot of - of money, and stuff.” She was starting to shift even more now, clearly uncomfortable. James opened his mouth to stop her, but she plowed on. “He made some not-so-nice friends at school. They care a lot about status and all that, so he doesn’t want them to know anything about his home life. Doesn’t want them to know about me.”

James blinked. He’d known this girl only two hours, and he’d seen her in about fourteen different emotional states. He was quite sure he liked them all and wanted to see even more.

“That bullshit,” he said emphatically, “if he doesn’t value you then he’s an idiot. What a prat, giving up a true friend just to social climb.”

Lily smiled sadly. “You’re right, of course. Still hurts, but you’re right.” She shrugged, trying but failing to seem unphased. “Anyway, I think that’s why I was a bit, uh, prickly earlier. Forgive me?”

James just waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’d be prickly too if it were me. He sounds like a disappointment.” He smiled at shyly, glad that they were approaching something like a friendly conversation, “plus, Remus assured me it wasn’t my finest moment either.”

She smiled again, and another shockwave shot through James’ body. “I forgive you. Friends?”

“Friends with the girl who saved my life? Absolutely.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time the air around them seemed more relaxed. Lily seemed to have found a comfortable position at last. She sat with her legs crossed and her hands placed on the ground behind her, propping her up toward the sea. She had her eyes closed and her head leaned back like she was savoring every roaring crash of waves or whiff of sea air.

“How can you not just love the sea,” she sighed, leaning her head back even further as she sunk into her surroundings, “I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

A few seconds passed before James realized that, at some point, he would have to stop staring at her to answer. “I guess it’s just not for me. You make it look pretty good, though. The sea, I mean.” he said quickly. Very smooth.

Lily, thankfully, ignored his comment. “Tell me the truth,” she turned her head to fix him with an intense look, “why don’t you like the ocean? I shared my trauma, now it’s your turn.”

James sighed. “Alright, I suppose I owe you. I’ve got to warn you, it’s pretty embarrassing.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

James paused, trying to decide at the last moment if there was any possible way to tell her the truth and still be respectable in her eyes. There wasn’t.

Finally, he looked at her. “Have you ever seen a movie called ‘Jaws’?”

She pursed her lips, obviously trying not to smile. “Uh, yeah James. I think everyone’s seen that one.”

“Well,” he closed his eyes, preparing for her worst, “I had nightmares for weeks. I don’t know why, but it really got me. I could barely walk through campus puddles on a rainy day. Kept thinking some bloody shark or something was gonna come up, grab my ankle, and pull me in.” He opened one eye to cautiously scan her reaction. “Well? I’m mad, aren’t I?”

He was shocked to find that she was not laughing. Not much, anyway.

“It’s a completely rational fear,” she said thoughtfully, staring out across the blazing water. The sun was almost entirely set now, and soon they’d be engulfed in night. “It’s the fear of the unknown, innit? The anxiety that there’s something unseen lurking around the corner. It’s why people are afraid of spiders and centipedes. All the hidden things that might be there to hurt you. It’s why we wish we could see the future, to be sure that everything is going to turn out alright.”

He knew she was right. He followed her gaze out over the waves. It wasn’t the water that scared him. Wasn’t the searing cold, the slippery rocks underfoot as he plunged further and further into the deep. It was the unknowing, the darkness below him that scared him shitless. “Lily Evans, you are very wise.”

“I know.”

They were silent again, but not uncomfortably so. A strange sense of serenity washed over him. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what was out there.

“I could help, you know,” Lily said without looking at him. Instead, she seemed very interested in picking at a hangnail on her thumb.

James raised his eyebrows. “Help me? With swimming?”

“Swimming, the sea, all of it,” she chanced a glance up at him. She really did have the most staggering green eyes he’d ever seen. “I’m pretty good out there, and you clearly need help.”

James laughed. “That bad, am I?”

She grimaced. “Yes, that bad.”

He sighed and glanced back toward the sea. The sun had fully started to set now, and the pink and orange waves looked as menacing as ever. “I dunno… I’m not keen to repeat my near-drowning.”

“Oh, come on,” she winked at him, “a strapping lad like yourself should have no problem swimming in there.”

Strapping? She thought he was strapping?

James forced himself to focus. “The sun’s almost set. What if it gets too dark to see?”

“So?” She pushed herself to her feet, then offered his hand to pull him up. “You can’t see through the water anyway. What’s a little more unknown going to hurt?”

She helped pull him to his feet then began unbuttoning her shorts. James had the self-control to look away, though his hands shook just a bit as he removed his own t-shirt. Together, fully outfitted in their swimsuits, they marched toward the now-purple water.

“Don’t worry, we’ll go slow,” she murmured as they reached the shoreline, “I’ll hold your hand through the whole thing.”

James smirked, “Figuratively, of course.”

As if to spite him, she grabbed his hand and squeezed hard. With a jolt, James remembered that very hand on his chest not two hours ago, pulling him up and out of the same water they charged into now.

“The trick,” Lily said decisively as she stared out at the breaking waves, “is to choose the right moment. You have to wade in past the break line between waves. If you time it wrong, you get creamed. That was your problem last time.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem. Ready?”

“Actually,” James hastened, suddenly feeling sick. He wanted to drop her hand and run back, but he found that his skin felt glued to hers. “I think not. Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine being a coward for the rest of my life.”

“Not a chance!” She cried, gesturing out over the water, “Look how far you’ve come! You can’t go back now. I’m not going to let you drown.”

James tried to shoot her with a mischievous grin, but he knew it more closely resembled a grimace. “Promise?”

“Promise. Go!”

And so, Lily pulling at his hand, they sprinted out into the shallows together. The remains of the previous wave rushed merrily alongside their feet and legs as they sprinted into the water. James did not stop running until he could feel the water at his collar bones, his feet skimming the bottom of the seafloor. He felt around with his toes. No sharks or monsters as far as he could feel.

“See?” Lily laughed and splashed him a bit with water, “it’s not so bad. Jump!”

He turned to look just in time. A wave was coming at them fast. He barely had time to push off the ground to sail over it. The two of them soared through the water, over the wave, and back down again as it crashed onto the shore behind them. He laughed with glee and disbelief. His lungs felt icy cold as he gulped down air to keep himself from panicking. It felt like flying, and James suspected he’d been meant to fly all his life. This was easy. This was wonderful.

Suddenly, a wave larger than the rest descended upon them. “Alright, James,” came Lily’s confident voice as she squeezed his hand tighter, “we have to go under this one, alright?”

“What?” He just managed to yell before she pulled him under the wave. Again, there was that eerie stillness, only this time James wasn’t alone in the silence. Lily’s hand was still warm and sure in his own.

And so they flew through the water, dodging and riding and floating over the waves. It was exhausting work which was not made any easier by their fits of laughter every time the other received a faceful of icy water. Finally, when the sky had turned a deep navy, they dragged each other back out of the surf and onto the shore.

Brilliantly illuminated stars scattered across the night sky as they threw themselves back down on the beach. Lily reached into her large tote and produced a beach towel that they shared, taking turns to wipe the saltwater from their eyes and faces. They had barely talked the whole time they swam, just laughed, and gasped for air.

“See?” Lily sighed as she flopped back onto the beach towel, “I told you it’s lovely out there.”

“I stand corrected,” James said as he laid down next to her. He could see her chest and stomach rise and fall with the effort of breathing. “You were an excellent teacher. You’re not Lily of the valley, you’re Lily of the sea.”

She looked at him with a look that he’d come to learn meant she was about to make fun of him. “Have you been thinking of that line the whole time?”

“No!” James said with mock indignation, “No, it’s true. You made me see what all the fuss is about. Thank you.”

Lily grinned at him. She turned onto her side to face him, her head resting on her outstretched arm. He could see her freckles even in the dim light from the stars. He hardly stopped to think before he leaned in, his mouth inches from her own. He could feel her breath, still coming in sharp gasps, against his lips. “Do you think it would be alright if I kissed you?”

She smiled, and his whole body lit on fire. “I’m going to insist that you do, Potter.”

Her lips tasted like the sea. Her hair, when he took the back of her neck into his hand, was coarse and tangled from their swim. The shock of her warm hands on his cold, bare chest nearly caused him to cry out, and she smiled into him. God, she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

It was impossible to know how long they stayed entwined in one another. James had lost all sense of time and space. All he knew was Lily. He knew he could stay like this forever and be just fine.

Unfortunately, Remus had other plans.

“OI!” Came the shout from the darkness. Lily and James jumped apart in alarm. Remus stood a ways up the beach with his arms crossed. It was hard to tell in the dark, but James would bet anything that he was smirking. “You’re not snogging my best mate down there, are you?”

“No!” cried James and Lily in unison.

“That’s what I thought. I hate to break up the party, but James, we’ve got to move. Mum will flip if we get the car back late.”

James nodded. It was a horrible thought, leaving Lily, but he’d seen Remus’ sweet-tempered mum angry only once before. He didn’t wish to repeat the experience.

“I’ve got to run,” he whispered apologetically to Lily. He grabbed her hand in the darkness, and for a moment they could have been back in the water, soaring over waves together. “I’ve got a few more days in town, then back to school. Can I meet you here again tomorrow?”

Lily beamed at him. “That sounds lovely. Maybe at school I’ll even allow you to be seen with me.”

He laughed, then kissed her once more. Remus’ exaggerated cough told him that it was, really, now time to go. “Do you need a ride home?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got my bike. See you tomorrow, then.”

His chest felt like it was fit to burst. They could do this all again tomorrow.

“See you then, Lily of the sea.”

He turned before he could see her roll her eyes again and made his way up the beach toward Remus. He put his hands in his pockets and tried his hardest to stifle the grin that was permanently etched upon his face.

Perhaps he wasn’t so mental after all.

[iliumheightnights]

Lux Lives!

Fandom: Mass Effect Pairing: Lux Shepard (OC) x Kaidan Alenko Summary: The Crucible has fired. The Reapers have been defeated. But most importantly...Lux lives!

~~~

*Gasp!*

Lux opened his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out. He was stuck underneath rubble and he was in pain, lots of pain. But one thing was certain. He was ALIVE. Somehow, some way, he was alive.

The last thing he remembered was speaking with the catalyst. Being given the choice. Given the chance to decide the fate of the entire galaxy. To Control, To evolve, or to end the Reapers once and for all. He hadn’t really thought of it. Destroy seemed like the only sound option...to him at least.

The Reapers had taken so much from him. So many friends. Ashley, Mordin, Legion, Thane... Anderson. People he cared about, gone. “It won’t discriminate. All synthetic life will be destroyed.” The catalyst’s words rang in his mind. No. Oh no. Edi. Edi and the Geth...if it worked they wouldn’t have survived. He hoped against hope perhaps...perhaps there was a chance. 

Honestly, Lux didn’t even know if he HAD stopped the reapers. The last thing he knew was blowing up the generator. He was prepared to die himself...he still might. He didn’t know if what he had done stopped them or not.

Who knows. He wasn’t even sure if he’d make it out of the rubble.

As his eyes closed, he heard a voice. “I know you’re not giving up now. Not after all you did. Not after all you worked so hard for.” Lux opened his eyes, however this time he wasn’t in the rubble. He was standing on Eden Prime, where it all began. The voice belonged to a familiar person in front of him. One he never expected to see again.

Saren.

“I must apologize, Shepard, for everything that happened between us...and thank you. By the time we had met, I had already fallen hard. Too far gone. The indoctrination had grabbed hold and didn’t let go. Nothing I tried worked to free me...nothing except you. There were two instances you were able to break me free from my mental prison, even if only for a brief moment. I know nothing I can say can truly make up for my actions and I’m not looking for forgiveness. I just wanted to speak my truth to you.”

“I know.” Saren looked surprised at Lux’s words. “I know you had no control of what happened during our time. But that doesn’t excuse you for the actions before that. You wanted to make a fool of humanity so bad you let yourself become a tool of the Reapers. However...I can see now that you know exactly what that cost. In the end...you did choose to do the right thing.”

Saren laughed. “It’s a shame we had never met before.” Suddenly the environment around them began to tear and rip with bright light. “It appears our time together is coming to an end. Go, Shepard, go live in the galaxy you helped create.”

Soon the ground opened up beneath Lux making him fall through. Once more his sight was filled with blinding light. This time when he opened his eyes he found himself back in the rubble. However, something was different. There were...voices. Someone was out there. Suddenly the debris he was under began to glow and slowly lifted off him.

“My god...You always love surprising me don’t you Shepard.”

Aria T’loak. Omega herself.

“I have to say, Shepard, this is the worst I’ve ever seen you and you’ve woken up drunk on my couch.” She said this as she slowly lifted him up, Bray helping holding him from the other side. Now don’t tell anyone...but Lux could almost hear a bit of worry in her voice. 

Lux laughed. It hurt, but he had to. “It’s good to see you too Aria. Where are we?”

“Well, you WERE almost on the way to the afterlife, you know the other one, not my club. But really, you were being crushed under debris in the council chambers...or what’s left of them anyway.”

“D-did we...win…” Lux felt his eyes closing again, this time his exhaustion was getting to him.

“Shepard! Lux!” He heard Aria say before passing out.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was a lot slower. “He’s stabilizing. We’re going to do everything we can to help him. But yes, I do believe he’ll make a full recovery.” A voice with a strong accent said. “Good. He saved all our asses, it’s the least we can do for him.” Another strong voice he recognized.

Finally, his eyes were able to focus. There in front of him, he saw Doctor Michelle and Commander Bailey. “D-did we...win?” Lux croaked out. The two turned quickly to him and broke into large grins. “Why aren’t you one tough son of a bitch?” Bailey laughed as he clapped Lux’s shoulder. “Careful Commander, we don’t want to cause him more pain.” The Doctor said with her light tone but you can see on her face she was relieved. 

Lux repeated his question once more, determined to know the answer. “Did we win?” The two looked at each other and then back at him. “We wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t.” Bailey said with another laugh. “It wasn’t without sacrifices though.” The doctor said, turning to a frown. “And unfortunately that goes for you. We found you in time to save your life but…” She looked down and Shepard followed her gaze to his leg; it was only then he realized he felt something was missing. “I’m afraid your lower left leg was badly injured. We had to amputate it. I’m sorry commander.”

Shepard looked down at his leg.The lower left part was gone. He could still feel it like it was there. He had always heard stories from fellow soldiers about a ‘ghost’ feeling after losing a limb, this must have been it. “Commander?” Doctor Michelle asked. Lux sighed but chuckled. “It’s an adjustment to be sure…but after how much I’ve lost and sacrificed…this is the least critical. I could have just died.” Bailey shook his head but smirked. “That’s sure one way to look at it.”

Before he could keep talking his omnitool beep. “I have to go. There’s unrest in Zakera and they need me to help calm everyone. I’ll talk to you later Shepard. Rest up, you deserve it.” Once he left Doctor Michelle laughed and looked over her own omnitool. “The Commander has been busy since the firing of the crucible. Everyone is just so confused and still a bit frightened.” Shepard nodded a bit. “How long was I out?” he asked. “The crucible fired three days ago. You’ve been here for two. I’m surprised you woke up so soon.” She went to give Lux some Medigel. “You should save that for some others.” He said only making her laugh. “You need it. Besides, you’re the savior of the galaxy. Everyone here, doctors, patients and everyone else agree. You saved us, let us save you.”

Doctor Michelle ran a few more tests before smiling. “Everything looks fine. There are of course some more things we’ll check but that’s all things that can be done later. For now I’ll let you rest while I check on some other patients.” Lux smiled at her. “Thanks Doc.” With that she left the door sliding shut behind her. Lux was ready to fall back asleep but something told him he wasn’t alone.

“I thought they’d never leave.” A familiar voice said. Lux watched as a figure decloaked and appeared standing beside his bed. “Kasumi. How long have you been here?” The thief smiled at him. “Ever since they brought you in. What? I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to you, we made a promise. You look awful by the way.” She said with a teasing tone.

Lux couldn’t hold back his laugh. It was nice to have one of his crew there. “Thanks. I feel terrible too.” He loved when he could talk with Kasumi. Both didn’t take each other seriously and often found joy in the other’s company. “So how are things? I have no idea what the outside world is like.”

Kasumi hummed and sat in a chair. “Well if it isn’t obvious you’re on the citadel, Huerta Memorial to be precise. It was left rather untouched. Much of the citadel is still intact but there are large damages in other places. Long range communications are down, we get bits of things here and there but it’ll take time to get things fully back up. It would be a lot easier if the Mass Relays weren’t practically destroyed. Would save a lot of time getting things fixed.”

Kasumi had helped Lux get caught up telling him the state of the galaxy…or at least the Sol system where they were currently stranded. Like she had said, long range communication was still down with a number of other systems. “What about the Geth?” He asked, expecting to hear about their demise. “The ones still on Earth are helping rebuild, people are still weary, but they’re coming around.” Lux’s eyes shot up at that. “What!? The Geth are alive?!” Kasumi looked at him strangely. “Yeah. Why?” Lux explained what the crucible had explained. “Oh. Well a number of Geth DID shut down when it fired, but from what we can tell they were loaded with reaper code. Otherwise they’re still fine.” Lux let out a breath he didn’t know he had. Legion DIDN’T die in vain and if the Geth were still alive…maybe so was EDI.

“Has there been any news on the Normandy?” He looked to Kasumi who shook her head. “No. The last thing we heard from them they were about to go through the relay. We don’t have any way to contact them.” Lux’s face dropped as he thought of his companions, of Kaidan. Kasumi must have known exactly what he was thinking and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure they’re fine Lux. If Joker can get us through the Omega 4 relay, he can keep them safe.”

“You’re right. If they’re all together nothing can stop them.”

~

In a distant system on an unknown planet, Kaidan Alenko sat outside the crashed Normandy staring up at the night sky. “I’m coming Lux, you better be there.”

[kuroopaisen]

distractions || kuroo tetsurou

➵ you’re determined to distract your boyfriend from his uni work. you’ve got a foolproof plan as to how. 

wc: 2k

warnings: f!reader, 18+, established relationship, unprotected sex (mentions of birth control), cursing

a/n: kuroo brainrot. that’s all. 

One of Kuroo’s hands lies on the inside of your thigh, his fingers running over the skin slowly. He seems totally unaware of the effect he’s having, scrolling through page after page of some bullshit about ‘breaking even’ and ‘sunk cost fallacies’.

That holds absolutely no interest for you. Not when something significantly more exciting is on your mind.

You glare at him from the corner of your eye.

It doesn’t help that he’s just sitting there, looking hot as ever in red sweatpants and a loose black shirt.

You’d initially thought, perhaps, that he’d be teasing you for wearing nothing but one of his shirts. It’s one of his, a ratty old black shirt that he’s said that you look both aggravatingly cute and unfairly hot in.

But he’s been staring at his damned laptop for the past hour, only taking a break to get up and pee.

You’d had nothing to do except absent-mindedly scroll your phone for that duration. Sure, you could’ve done some uni work, or perhaps even done something ‘fun’ for a hobby.

But you hadn’t felt like it. So you didn’t.

And now you’re horny.

You sigh, crossing your legs in an X-shape. It hikes up a little around your thighs; something that usually captures your boyfriend’s attention with ease.

He’s not paying attention.

An idea pops into your mind. Something that Kuroo would absolutely be down for. And something you’d wanted to try for a while now.

You scoff, propping yourself up on your knees. Kuroo still takes no notice.

“Tetsu?”

“Mhm?”

You grab his laptop, closing the lid and placing it on the bedside table.

“Hey!” Kuroo chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. “What’re you doing?”

“I want to ride you.”

At those words you straddle him, settling yourself comfortably on his lap and slipping your hands under his shirt.

He blinks at you for a few seconds, eyes wide and round. But in true Kuroo fashion, that surprised expression melts into one of smug satisfaction.

He takes his shirt off and tosses it aside.

“I’m usually the one on top,” he chuckles, smoothing his hands over your outer thighs.

“And?” You hum, pressing a kiss to his neck. He hums in response, one hand moving down to grab your ass.

“I don’t know if you have the stamina,” he grins.

“I’ve put up with you for this long,” you smirk, your lips moving down his neck. “That’s got to count for something.”

He laughs at that, letting his eyes flutter shut as you begin to nip at the skin on his collarbone. You know what he’s like – he wears his hickeys proudly, so long as they can be hidden from his professors.

“What’s brought this on?” He asks, his voice beginning to roughen.

You raise your head to glare at him. “Really? You have no idea?”

He tilts his head at you, genuine confusion clouding his eyes.

“You’ve been fondling my thighs all morning,” you huff, glaring at him.

Kuroo cackles, lifting a hand to smooth over your cheek. “Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t even notice.”

“You didn’t even notice?!”

“I was studying,” he grins.

“So, what? You were just fondling them for emotional support?”

“Sounds about right.”

“I hate you.”

“You just said you wanted to, and I quote, ‘ride me,’” he smirks. “Or is hate sex something you’re into? You never told me about that kin—”

“Shut up,” you mumble, pressing your lips against his.

He complies.

You grind against him, earning a soft moan from the back of his throat.

His dick’s already beginning to harden up. Your heart speeds up at that realisation. Even now, the fact that you’re the one who turns him on so easily makes you all flustered.

He kisses you again, deep and hot and hungry.

You keep grinding against him, letting a few gasps and moans escape your own mouth. His hands slip down to your ass, pulling you closer to him. You yelp, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Oh, fuck.

He’s so close to you, so hard, so ready.

If you wait any longer you’re going to lose your damn mind.

Your lips brush against his ear as you smirk. “Tetsu,” you moaned quietly. “I need you inside me now.”

He gulps, his grip tightening on your ass. “Do you want me to get a condom, or…”

“It’s fine,” you breath, shaking your head. You’ve been on birth control for the past few months.

His face lights up and you can swear his eyes start sparkling.

You laugh, bringing your hands up to cup his face. “That excited, huh?”

He grins. “You aren’t?”

He’s teasing, but there’s something you can only describe as ‘eager reverence’ in his eyes.

The next few moments are spent trying to get him out of his sweatpants; you’re leaning this way and that, he’s trying to wriggle out of those blasted trousers without having to get off the bed.

Somehow, he manages to get everything off, his dick bright red as it springs up.

An ache pulses in your abdomen as you look at it. You’d learnt very quickly that you had to take things slow with Kuroo – he’s big, after all.

But you’re both eager.

Your remember that as you position yourself over his cock and start to sink onto it.

“Fuck,” you breath, grasping at his shoulders. “You’re so big.”

You shudder as you settle down on his length, letting his cock stretch you out.

He grins. Even he’s a sucker for praise. “Yeah?”

You nod, adjusting yourself on his lap. He takes a sharp breath at that, grasping at your ass again.

“You alright?” You chuckle, knowing full well what that noise means.

“You’re so warm,” he mumbles, kissing your neck. “And tight.”

You grin, leaning your head back to give him better access. “Can I move?”

“Mhm,” he sighs, teeth grazing the base of your neck.  

You shift again, pressing your pelvis closer to his. Your knees are propped to either side of his thighs, holding you up.

You set a solid pace, this new position allowing you to rub your clit against him as you ride his cock. Kuroo’s head lolls back for a moment, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted.

You take a moment to admire his body for a moment – taut, tanned, muscular.

His golden-brown eyes flutter open, darkening in a now familiar way. You smile at him, running your hands over his chest.

“Get this off,” Kuroo growls, tugging on the hem of your shirt. “I want to see all of you.”

You blush, but you tear it off your body as quick as you could while continuing your movements. You settle your hands on his shoulders again, gripping into them tightly in an attempt to ground yourself.

Kuroo runs his hands over your hips, up your waist, over your boobs. Your skin tingles under his touch, making you shiver.

“I love your body,” he breaths, thrusting up into you instinctively.

You gasp as he goes deeper, clenching around him as your cheeks redden at his words.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles.

“It’s fine,” you gasp, “it’s good.”

There’s an unrelenting ache in your thighs, but you don’t want to stop.

One of Kuroo’s hands slinks between the two of you, seeking out your clit. You gasp at the sensation of his thumb pressing roughly against your clit, rubbing in coarse, haphazard circles.

“You alright?” He grins, voice deep and laden with lust.

“Feels so good,” you breath, rutting against him.

He makes a noise not unlike a growl.

“Are you gonna cum?” You can hear the pride in his voice. He loves making you cum, and he loves feeling you cum on his dick most of all.

“I-I think so,” you shudder, your thighs burning from the amount of work they’ve done today.

“Then cum for me,” he growls in your ear.

You moan, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“I want to feel you cum around my cock,” he growls.

“Fuck, Tetsu,” you breathe. “You feel so fucking good.”

He chuckles, tilting his chin up so his lips could meet yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. You sigh into the warmth, the coil in your stomach tightens.  

“I love being inside you,” he mumbles against your lips. “Fuck, baby, you…”

You let yourself go. “Don’t stop,” you gasp, “please, don’t stop.”

Warmth spreads through your body, a pulsing wave of pleasure that makes you dig your nails into his shoulders.

You moan, deep and long and honest. Everything feels all floaty for a moment, and yet your limbs feel so heavy. You collapse against him, your head falling onto his shoulder.

Kuroo understands immediately. He’s familiar with the look you’d just had on your face, after all.

He cups your head, his other hand grabbing your ass. He pulls you close, making your breath hitch in your throat. He thrusts up into you a couple of times, before flipping you over gently.

You yelp in surprise but lift your pelvis up as best you could.

He’s on top now, fucking you with his usual voracity. He never means to be rough, and you’re not even sure if what’s happening right now qualifies as ‘rough sex’. But his thrusts are deep, fast, hungry.

You know it’s because he’s been holding back, because you know he always tries to make sure you finish first. But he wants you – wants to be close to you like this, to let himself lose control with you.

You want that, too. Knowing you’re the one to make him lose his damn mind? Fuck, that’s hot.

He’s hot. And he’s bare inside of you. The thought alone is almost enough to make you cum again.

“Tetsu,” you moan, clenching around his dick. “Tetsu, I want you to cum in me.”

“Holy shit,” he hisses. “Fuck, are you sure?”

“Please,” you beg, “I want to feel you.”  

“Fucking hell,” he groans, burying his face in your neck. His pace speeds up, hungry and desperate. You know exactly what that means.

A few more rough, sloppy thrusts and he lets out a long, deep moan. God, what a beautiful sound.

His dick pulses against your walls as he reaches his high, chasing it with a sharp, shallow strokes.

A few more moments of thrusting and moaning and he slows to a stop, hot breath fanning over your next.

He lifts his head up to look at you, a slight tremble in his arms.

“Guess I always come out on top,” he grins.

You stare at him for a moment, a horrible realisation settling over you. “Was that… a pun?”

“I’ll never tell.”

“Get out?”

“Of you?”

“Of my house.”

“Uh, I think you mean our hou—”

“Nope. You’ve lost your privileges.”

He chuckles, pulling out of you with a contented sigh. “We should do that more often.”

“Sex?” You ask, tilting your head at him. “Or me on top?”

“Both,” he answers instantly, kissing your forehead. “Definitely both.”

“You sure?” You giggle. “I thought you always ‘come out’ on top.”

“I don’t think you understand just how hot that was,” he grins. “Also, fuck.”

You blink at him, following his gaze down your body.

Oh.

You can feel his cum dribbling out of you. You realise, not without a hint of frustration, that it might stain the sheets.

“You should probably have a shower,” Kuroo teases.

“It’s your fault,” you mumble, sitting up straight.

“Hey, you begged me to do it,” he grins, leaning in close to you.

Your cheeks flush. He wasn’t wrong.

Kuroo cackles. You punch him in the chest lightly even though you know such a move is futile. He grabs your fist playfully, tugging you towards him. You comply, wrapping your free arm around his neck and pressing yourself against his chest.

Bare chest to bare chest. Something about that almost feels as intimate as what you’d just done. Almost.

He lets your hand go, bringing one of his own up to cup your face.

Kuroo gazes at you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. “Thanks for trusting me.”

You know what he’s talking about immediately.

“We’re dating,” you giggle. “And we have been for a while.”

“I know, but…” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I love you.”

You smile, your heart hammering in your chest. “I love you, too.”

He kisses you again, surprisingly chaste.

“But,” you grin, running a hand through his hair, “we should probably have a shower.”

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: The Star Wars Wednesday Menace

(This came from a crack-treated-seriously idea I was throwing around with -- and at -- my friends where Vader didn't suppress his Anakin side as much as he thought, and he keeps finding himself amused by the trouble that pesky Death Star Pilot causes. Sometimes he lets him escape on purpose, just to see what he'll do next. He kind of tries to stealth-train him, like Maul and Ezra)

“Oh, the Force is certainly with you, boy.” 

Vader easily sidestepped the blade with good humor and parried. “But you are no Jedi.”

“I will be!” the Boy snarled.

Oddly, that seemed to make Vader almost falter.

“You’re...very certain that’s what you want?” he asked suddenly. He caught the Boy’s blade on his own and held it effortlessly. “Have you truly considered the cost of such a commitment?”

The Boy -- one of these days Vader was actually going to learn his name -- glared up at him from those too-familiar eyes. “Scared of what I’ll become, Vader?”

It was a childish taunt, and not one that should have rankled. And yet, somehow, it did. What would the Boy become? Vader pressed his attack a little more forcefully than he needed to. The Boy stumbled, barely able to parry in time.

“You are naive!” Vader snarled. “You play at war like it’s a game! Knights and dragons, like the child you are!” He swung, and the Boy ducked quickly. “Do not be so quick to swear oaths of loyalty to Orders you know nothing about! You do not yet know what you will be asked to sacrifice in return.”

The Boy was taken aback by this. He drew back a foot or so, holding the lightsaber in a guard position. He was cautious now, more so than before. He tilted his head and blinked slowly -- curse him, why did he have to look so much like Anakin he had once imagined his child might? Why was he so familiar? 

“You aren’t talking about me, are you?”

Vader cursed himself, and the Boy, and that inconvenient soft spot he’d inexplicably developed for an enemy. 

“Your insight serves you well,” he grudgingly allowed. “Behold: a cautionary tale made flesh. Do not put your trust in the wrong people, Boy.”

“Will you stop calling me that?!” the Boy protested.

Vader scoffed. “I do not know your name. What else would I call you?”

The Boy opened his mouth to argue, and abruptly closed it again. After a moment, a shrewd light entered his eyes. Vader had seen that look before. It usually heralded the little Rebel doing something infuriating and yet endlessly amusing.

“I’ll tell you my name, Vader,” the cunning brat offered, “After you tell me why you’re a cautionary tale.”

“You are blackmailing me?” Vader casually twirled his lightsaber and circled the Boy. “Ha! You imp. Very well, but do not think I’m going to let you live long enough to tell your Rebel friends.”

The Boy mimicked the twist of his blade -- much more smoothly this time! He was progressing! -- and flashed a cocky grin. “Yeah? That’s the same threat you made the last time I escaped. And the time before that.” 

“True, that is true,” Darth Vader acknowledged. “You are becoming quite accomplished at that.”

Indeed, the last time I did not even have to help you “escape”. 

He thought for a moment, then switched off his blade. Their battlefield was so cluttered with the collateral damage of a Rebel skirmish that it was not difficult to find a still-smouldering piece of an AT-ST to sit on.

Why did he feel the need to advise this young Rebel? What purpose did it serve to coddle him so much? If he was just going to take him as his apprentice either way, he didn’t really need to put so much effort into winning his trust, did he? Well, perhaps he did. It was clear that the Boy was learning in leaps and bounds from their little game, though he would no doubt be loath to admit it. He wanted to outdo Vader. Spite was a very effective motivator.

And besides, perhaps playing the mentor just a little more than usual would serve to make the Boy drop his guard just that little bit more. 

That didn’t mean it was a story he liked to tell. But he had come too far to back down now.

“I...once trusted a man to save my family from imminent death,” Vader said slowly. Reluctantly. “I first went to the Jedi. Yes, your beloved Jedi, for help. And they advised me to “let go” and allow my pregnant wife to die.”

He sensed confusion from the Boy. Then disbelief and suspicion, slowly leveling out into recognition that he was telling the truth. That, and dull horror. Well, that was a bit more validating than he’d expected, wasn’t it?

“The Jedi failed me, Boy. And so I turned to the Sith. He had the power to preserve one’s life force, by drawing on the Dark Side of the Force. He still does, in fact. I have witnessed it.”

“Oh. Great.” The Boy shuddered. “That’s...good to know.”

“Such was my thought. But as you do not seem to understand yet, despite your accent clearly marking you as coming from Tatooine, nothing is done for free. There is always a price, Boy. Always.” Vader turned the hilt of his saber over in his hands slowly. “To prove my loyalty, I was commanded to kill the Jedi. All of them. And I did so, without question: he insisted that I wholly cut myself off from my past so that he could be assured of my future loyalty. Only then would he fulfill his side of the bargain.”

The Boy took another step back, repulsed. “You...you killed hundreds...thousands of Jedi...because someone told you he refused to save your wife and baby otherwise? You just handed your family over as hostages because somebody said they could help you? That’s a Hutt’s bargain, are you nuts?! Why didn’t you just take her to a doctor?!”

Anger crawled up Vader’s throat like acid. The Boy did not know what he was talking about. Nor did he seem to remember to whom he was speaking. You will learn, my reluctant apprentice. 

“Doctors do not understand ailments predicted by the Force,” he said harshly. “No one else was willing to help me but an old mentor and scholar with seemingly noble purpose. Does that not seem familiar to you? I rashly swore my allegiance just as you seem to have.”

With a hiss, the Boy’s lightsaber flicked off and hung useless at his side. He sank into a crouch, just watching him. Those eyes, Anakin’s eyes, held a terrible, knowing, look. A haunted look.

“He didn’t save her, did he?” the Boy whispered.

He sounded as though he wanted to be sick.

“No, Boy. He did not.” Vader’s fists tightened over the hilt with a creak. “But by then, I had cut off my own retreat. There was nothing else left but my vow to his Order.” 

It burned, even letting someone he intended to take as a padawan know anything about his past. It burned to admit that he had been deceived. That he had met the fate he tried to avoid on the path he took to escape it. It stung that this Rebel’s child was nearly the age The Baby would have been.

The Dark Side flickered warmly around him, taking his pain and anger and sorrow and exchanging them for raw power. Padme was gone -- forever beyond his reach. As was the child he had never gotten to meet. To hold.

“That’s why you killed him?”

Vader looked up in time to see the Boy grit his teeth and turn his face away.

“It’s not fair.” 

“What is not fair?”

A spike of anger, bright and sharp, burst through the Force for a moment.

“Why was my family less important than yours?” the Boy challenged. “Why, Vader?! I lost my father because you thought you might lose your family?”

“I did lose my family!” Vader roared. He leapt up, blade at the ready again. “What do you know of such matters? Tell me! What would you have done for a chance to save your father, Boy?”

He brandished the lightsaber threateningly. “Speak up! Look at you. Look at me! That you are so eager to avenge him is answer enough.”

He stormed forward before the Boy had a chance to stand, and leveled his sword at the Boy’s throat. “Do not be so quick to deal out judgement, Boy,” he hissed, “You are already blindly following a path not unlike mine.”

The Boy stared mutely up at him with wide, panicked eyes. His presence in the Force reeked of fear, and the Dark Side absorbed it eagerly. Darth Vader contemplated killing him then and there. But his hand would not move. He knew full well that he couldn’t make himself do it. Not when he’d already put in this much effort to teach the boy.

With a disgusted sound, the Sith deactivated his lightsaber and turned his back on the Boy.

“Go,” he growled, “Before I change my mind.”

The Boy scrambled to his feet and wasted no time in getting out of range. Strangely, at the very edge of their battlefield, he hesitated.

“Leave me!” Vader snarled at him.

There was a limited time before his temper snapped. If the foolish child didn’t get out of the way, he would only have himself to blame.

“Skywalker.”

The world stopped, like an unwound clock. Even the motes of dust seemed frozen in place. Blood roared in Vader’s ears as he slowly turned to look up at the boy at the top of the crater.

“What did you say?” 

The Boy raised his chin.

“My name. It’s Luke Skywalker.”

He didn’t wait to see if the name rang a bell. He didn’t stop to ask if Vader remembered his father yet. He just ran.

Darth Vader stood motionless in a field of debris.

Skywalker.

Skywalker?!

LUKE.

The name that she’d picked!

The face that seemed so familiar-

His eyes-!

Barely twenty. 

He was barely twenty.

The pieces fell into place almost too quickly, carried along on the reproachful whisper of the Force. Light Side or Dark, he could not tell.

And you just let him go like this? 

Vader whirled.

“Luke!”