#tattoos as first step towards healing

[dumblilb]

I Could Be Enough

Vi x Fem!Reader

(Synopsis: They weren’t super close as children, but running around in the same crowd kept them in the know of each other. But years later she might be all Vi’s got left.)

(Warnings: drunk!vi, alcohol, mentions of physical violence ‘ not towards reader’, it’s mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, no mentions of physical attributes, just she/her pronouns, not proof read)

(Requested: yes)

(Words: 1,585)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。

You don’t even know how it got to this point. Sitting at the booth in a gross, sticky, and dark club, watching over a girl you didn’t think you would ever see again. And maybe you were right. Cause she’s not the same girl you remember running around the streets of the under city as a child. The one who always had a bright look in her eyes as she tried so hard to live up to her father’s name, and keep her siblings safe.

But one thing was the same behind those, now dark and sad, slate grey eyes. She was a fighter. In the most literal sense. She couldn’t keep her fist off a jaw if she tried. Night after night she would cover her distinct tattoos and red hair with dark paint. Disguising herself from the public who claimed her strength as a prize. Or maybe even hiding from herself. She wasn’t to sure anymore.

But as the nights carried on the paint got messier and the drinks were getting stronger. And it was hard to watch. But here you were. Watching. So hard you thought your eyes might bleed from all the strobing lights and smoke filling the air. Any other night you might have gone to bed. Ignored the aching feeling you had, and left her to party the rest of the night away. But you couldn’t. Because there she was also watching you. As she sloppily got up with a bottle in her hand and started to walk towards the exit, the urge to follow consumed you. Because you knew she wanted you too. She was practically begging. And so you did. Meeting her by the stairs leading to her small apartment.

“Thank god you came, I thought I was gonna have to drink all alone tonight.” She slurred and you sighed resting your hip against the wall, propping yourself up.

“What would you do without me.” You smiled at her. Trying not to be angry with how fucked up she sounds. Slyly taking the bottle from her and helping her steady by the waist you walk her home.

“You know you’re so pretty when you’re mad at me.” She sighs as you push her door open. You just roll your eyes. She’s been doing this for months. Ever since her first pit match. You were hired as a sort of nurse for the ring. Patching up the people who were getting their shit rocked, and the people doing the punching. Making sure they were healed enough for their next match. And the second you saw her step in that ring you knew it was her. Sure she looked a little different. But her deep upper cut. You could never forget that.

So you causally brought up growing up in the lanes while bandaging her fists that day. How you were pretty shy but always friendly with a boy named Ekko. And he had introduced you to his friends a few times. You could tell she remembered you. But she didn’t say anything. Which was okay. You could tell she didn’t really want to be known at that point. But as time went on she spent more time talking to you after matches. Sitting at the bar just trying to figure out how life got both of you here.

But she also found alcohol along the way. And that concerned you. She would always assure you she was fine. And you chose to believe her. Even though it sometimes seemed she would look right through you. Like she wished something else was there.

But even before the alcohol, the casual flirting was always there. Comments about how attractive you looked and how nice you were to her compared to the other fighters. Claiming you made her feel ‘so special’ and not just because it was coming from a beautiful girl like you.

So as you sit her down on her small bed and pull out some supplies to remove her makeup you can’t help but shake your head at her.

“Your dumb fake flirting isn’t going to get you out of this one vi. You’re a mess.” You sigh pushing her hair back with one hand, removing her makeup with the other.

“It’s not fake and you know it.” She rolls her eyes. “I want you. Please.” She says griping the hand with the cloth in it. Rubbing her thumb across your knuckles softly. The difference between her ruff scared hands and yours now glaringly apparent.

“You’re drunk and exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bit of a concussion after today’s match. I haven’t seen you get hit that hard in a while.” You say ignoring her advances. As you’ve done before.

“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” She reassures you. But the wavering of her eyes says otherwise.

“I know you think you’re fine-“ you remove your hand from hers and finish wiping her face. “But I see you, Vi. And this isn’t fine.” You say pointing from the bottle resting on her little table to her bruised fists.

She groans tossing her head back. And you gear up ready for a fight about how you don’t know what you’re talking about. But she rubs her eyes a little, her breath slowly becoming unsteady.

“You’re right I’m sorry.” She breathes out looking at you. The small bit of light roaming the room makes the wateriness of her eyes sparkle. “God I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do.” She cries.

You don’t even know how to respond. She’s never really cried in front of you before. She’s always been so tuff. But as she sits before you, even her toned and muscular body couldn’t make her look strong.

“I’m so lonely. All I have at this point is you. And you don’t even want me.” She continues and your face softens. Kneeling down in front of her you softly stroke her hair, pulling her in for a hug. She cautiously wraps her arms around you. Like just her touch might scare you away.

“You have me. You do. I think you have for a while now. I just didn’t think you were serious.” You reassure her. Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and you can hear her breathing steady slightly.

“I’m always serious about you.” She says softly, it being a bit muffled by her position. She pulls away from the hug, resting her forehead to yours. “Can you stay please. I don’t want to be alone.” She asks quietly. Her warm breath hitting your lips.

“I’ll stay.” You grin and she moves to get up and grab a blanket. You help get her ready to lay down, removing her thick boots and setting aside the dirty cloth.

She props the blanket in your lap and she lays down. At first you just smile at how dainty she looks compared to how you usually see her. But her strong arm pulling you down next to her snaps you out of it pretty quickly.

Pulling the blanket over you both, you run your fingers through her hair. Analyzing her face one feature at a time. Her eyes seem a little more blue in this lighting. And you can finally see the small freckles adorning her skin.

“Are you trying to seduce me.” She asks with a soft laugh. “Cause it’s working.”

“Don’t get any funny ideas. That’s not happening. At least not tonight.” You say and you could have sworn her cheeks got a little pink.

“Well then you’ve got to stop staring at me like that… At least not tonight.” She jokes rolling over. Making you smile.

With her back to you, you place an arm around her waist holding her firm. You could feel her body stiffen and you try to remove your arm but she stops you. “No wait. This is good.” She whispers. “This is good.” And she holds your arm tight to her. Rubbing circles across it with her fingers. Her whole body relaxes against yours and you smile against her neck.

“You know I’m not that same girl anymore.” She sighs a little out of no where. But you get it, she’s trying to give you an out. A chance to run. You hum in response. “I’m different I think. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” She continues and you know she’s not talking about muscle, or brawn. She used to be a leader. Someone people looked up to. And now… most people didn’t even know her real name.

“That might be true. But that’s okay.” You say pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re holding on to a girl who didn’t know what life was yet. And you’re grown up. It’s normal to not be the same. Or feel the same.” You continue and she turns to face you. Caressing your cheek softly.

“I think maybe I can be okay. With you.” She muses. Placing a light kiss to your lips. Making you smile.

“Good cause I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t know if tomorrow she would go back to drinking. Or if she would get her ass kicked in the pit. But tonight she was safe. And she was with you. And as she fell asleep to your heart beating against her, you couldn’t help but hope it could stay this way. Cause for you. This was enough.

[wearebarca]

10. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 10

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8* - Part 9*

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 5,4k

Warnings: none for this one, lot of fluff

Her conversation with Katie served as a bitter distraction during her flight back to Barcelona. She had not let herself think about the words that were spat at her face too much, wanting to enjoy the small amount of time she had left with her friends. When she arrived at the apartment, well after the two Arsenal players, she was met with two sets of eyes on her, both harbouring silent questions. One smile was enough for them to understand that there would be no talking about this and they simply motioned her to join them on the sofa. They spent the rest of the night watching cheesy romance movies and judging the characters on their poor choices and horrible taste in man.

Right now though, sitting 30 000 feet above the ground, with nothing but the soft chatter of the other passengers, Rosalie could not help but drift back to what was said. Alexia wasn’t like that. In the months she had spent with this team, she had never felt like she was being used, and she knew that the Irish defender was simply trying to get under her skin, but Rosalie had not completely healed. She was still fragile, and had just started to feel like she had found somewhere she belonged. Katie’s words, even if she would not admit it, had successfully planted a seed of doubt in her mind.

Stepping out of the airport in the warm Barcelona sun was such a relief for the photographer, who felt the tension leave her shoulders. She took a long, steady breath, the first satisfying one since boarding the plain, and closed her eyes to try and center herself a little. She had asked Lucy to come pick her up, and was slightly dreading the road back to her apartment since she was certain Leah had already told Keira about the events from the night before, and Keira would have, without a doubt, told Lucy. What Rosalie did not expect was to see a certain tattooed defender with a sophisticated Norwegian by her side.

“Hola guapa! How was your trip?” Mapi said, hugging the brunette and immediately taking her bags from her hands. Ingrid was next in line for a hug and handed her a cup of coffee, earning a grateful smile from the smaller woman.

“It was busy, very nice though. It felt good to see my old gang.” She said, refusing to get onto more details. From the side look Ingrid sent her, Rosalie knew that Ingrid was aware of some details and she was praying she wouldn’t ask. Mapi was already walking ahead, crumbling under all the bags she insisted she would carry alone and was beckoning them to follow to the car park.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you guys, but I thought Lucy was coming to get me.”

“ She was, but someone,” She said, sending a loving stare at her overly excited girlfriend, “really wanted to pick you up.” The revelation warmed the brunette’s heart who momentarily forgot the harsh words uttered towards her.

“Are you too tired to go get some food with us?” As much as the brunette was dreaming of her own bed at the moment, she also did not want to be alone.

“No no I’ll be fine, as long as it's a quiet place.”

“We were thinking about getting it to go and eat at our place, you could meet Bagheera too!” Mapi said, putting the brunette’s bag in the trunk of her car. Rosalie smiled and quickly agreed. They stopped at a small restaurant and ordered paella that they would share. Their apartment was vast and very tastefully decorated. Rosalie could see the Scandinavian twist in the decor and smiled at some colourful addition that could only be from the Spanish woman.

But the most interesting element of the space was the little ball of black fur sleeping soundly on the beige sofa. Rosalie made a beeline for the little creature, completely forgetting about the house tour she was currently in. She sat next to the cat who’s head instantly went up. She sniffed the photographer’s hand and got up, only to brush its head against her hand and start to purr loudly.

“ Bonjour mon chaton, tu es si belle, oh oui mais quelle beauté, et si gentille j’y crois pas.” She said softly while petting the small cat completely, unaware of Mapi’s presence next to her.

“I understand Alexia, hearing that just made me feel things amiga.” she said laughing while setting up the coffee table up for supper.

“What?”

“She is my best friend, I know her. Also she has been in a foul mood ever since she came back from camp and I’m pretty sure that it’ll change as soon as she sees you tomorrow.” Rosalie sent a look to Ingrid who made a face and silently agreed to her girlfriend’s statement. “And… We all saw you two back at the club.” She said winking at her.

Rosalie gave up playing dumb and simply rolled her eyes at the Spanish woman. “All of you?”

“Well, Sandra and Irene are aware since it was their plan to make Alexia mad. Patri and Pina suspect, Lucy and Keira obviously, and the rest can see that something is going on with their captain but can’t seem to pinpoint what.” Ingrid said, handing the French-Canadian a plate.

“They are blind yes.” Mapi said

“Mostly intimidated probably. Alexia is extremely protective of her private life.” Ingrid said, pouring them all a glass of white wine

“You don’t say.” Rosalie said, taking a sip, “I understand though, it seems like Martina has no boundaries. Anyway, how was the national break for you guys?”

The conversation flowed nicely all night, with Ingrid and Rosalie sharing about their respective camps and Mapi keeping them up to date on what had happened with Barça while they were gone. The brunette didn’t check the time once, which meant that she stayed very late and ended up accepting the couple’s offer to take the guest room.

National camp was always a hassle, and her weekend at Leah’s wasn’t exactly a vacation either. Add to that a night spent in an unfamiliar bed and the unrelenting flow of energy that was the Spanish defender, even early in the morning, Rosalie looked and felt like a zombie. She walked in the training center with her sunglasses still perched on her nose and a vice grip on the large coffee cup in her hand.

Dealing with Martina was the last thing she needed in her state, so she decided that it would be best if she sent one of the other photographers on the pitch, just so she could catch up on what she had missed during her time away.

It would be a small week for the photographer, with only three days before the weekend. There would be a game on Saturday but she was excited about it. Game days had become her favourite part of the job.

The thing that stressed her the most was her race quickly approaching. The Barcelona marathon was less than a week away and the French-Canadian wondered how she would deal with her level of exhaustion, work and her last lap of training.

Time seemed to pass without Rosalie noticing. She was so caught up in her emails she completely ignored her hunger. She kept working like that all through lunch and almost jumped when she was pulled out of her trance by her door opening and Lucy barging in her office.

“Didn’t your mum teach you to knock before entering?”

“Oh she’s sassy today.” Lucy said, taking a seat in the chair facing the brunette and unpacking hers and the photographer’s lunch. One look at the sandwich and her emails were forgotten. Without even glancing at the older woman, she grabbed the sandwich and took a huge bite.

“You’re welcome, ungrateful twat.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes and finished swallowing. “Merci maman.”

“Are you gonna survive your day?” She asked, grabbing her own sandwich.

“Who knows, I feel like I got buried alive under all those emails.” She said, taking a sip off her cold coffee. “ I’m so tired I can’t even focus.”

“Can’t you work from home?” The brunette took a second to contemplate the idea, and came to the conclusion that nothing productive could come from her staying here.

“I could. I probably should.” She said, A big sigh left her lips as she lowered her head to her desk

“Are you the lead photographer on Saturday’s game or are you resting for your race?”

“I’ll be working, the game is early so I’ll be fine. Leah, Lia, Steph, Beth and Viv are coming to see the game too aren’t they.” She asked, sitting up and rubbing her palms on her eyes in a vain attempt to wake herself up.

“Yes, they’ll arrive the night before. The LW’s will stay at our place while the rest have hotel rooms in town. ” Just like they had promised, her friends were coming to cheer for her during her marathon. They would be staying at Lucy and Keira’s place and hotels so the French-Canadian would not have to worry about hosting and focus solely on her race. She was touched that her friends had thought about this, but the thing that would likely keep her up, was the thought of her old life and new life colliding. She knew that in the football world, everyone knew everyone. They all had heard of each other, or played against each other, sometimes even played together. But having them all interact outside of football, seeing the girls that were with her through some of the toughest times meet the people that had brought back her happiness, that was a different story. What if they didn’t get along. Afterall, England and Spain were famous rivals on the national scene and she was very close to both of the respective captains.

Rosalie could feel the start of a nasty headache creeping in as she closed her laptop. “Allez Frenchy, gather up your stuff and go home.”

The English player was already up and picking up the empty wrappers from their lunch. “Have you spoken to Alexia since you came back?”

The mention of the captain made her heart leap a little in her chest. She had wanted to, really, but the words from Katie still resonated in her mind and the thought of them being even remotely close to the truth had kept her from reaching out. She stayed silent, knowing that Lucy was aware that she had not.

“We didn’t tell her anything if that’s what you’re scared of. We only said that you were tired from the trip. She’s clearly worried tho.”

“I’ll speak to her tonight.” She said with a smile, walking out of her office. From the windows, she could see the whole team in action. As if she had felt her presence, Alexia’s head snapped up just in time to see the photographer pass.

She could see from her posture alone just how tired she was. She knew the woman had not spent a proper night at her place since she came back, so inviting her to hers seemed like a lot. She didn’t want the brunette to feel like she was suffocating her, so she decided that she’d let her do the first move. If she wanted to see her it would be on her terms, without feeling obligated to.

She was at peace with her decision for a total of twenty minutes. The look on Lucy’s face when she came back on the pitch, along with Keira's quiet but audible “is she ok?” were enough for the blonde to lose her cool. She herself had a hard time understanding why she felt protective over the brunette but truly it didn’t matter.

Concentrating for the rest of training turned out to be a difficult task, but Alexia sped through the rest of the exercises and was one of the first off the pitch. This behavior was very uncommon for the Barcelona captain which left a few of the girls confused. Only two had an idea why the midfielder was so eager to end this session.

“You should bring her pasta. It’s what Sara has recommended her to eat a week before her race and she’s a sucker for good pasta.” Lucy said when Alexia walked past her. The midfielder stopped in her tracks.

“Rosalia has not had a moment alone since she came back, you don’t think I should let her be?” She was surprised that the woman who acted like a big sister towards the photograph would encourage her to pursue the French-Canadian.

“I can’t tell you why, but being alone is not what she needs right now.” Lucy said with a hint of sadness and worry in her eyes. “Oh, and bring Nala, she’ll be so happy.” That was all the Catalonian needed to hear. Her plan was simple. She would go to her apartment to leave her training bag and pick up Nala. She would then go to the market and get all the ingredients she needed and walk back to Rosalie’s place.

It was around dinner time when Alexia arrived in front of the photographer’s building. She was glad she didn’t have to wait long until someone exited so she could let herself in without having to ring a random doorbell. The thing the blonde had clearly not thought of, was her little dog remembering the space, and most likely, smelling the photographer through the door.

As soon as Alexia reached the apartment door, Nala started to bark and jump, scratching the door with her little paws. Alexia cringed at the ruckus her dog was making and tried to calm her but nothing was working. She was about to drop all her bags and pick up the little beast when the sound of the door opening made her look up.

Rosalie was groggy. She was sleeping on her couch after succumbing to her fatigue while working when barking had pulled her from her slumber. She knew that there were no dog owners in her building and the sound was from right outside her door. She surely wasn’t prepared to see Alexia crouched down in front of her door, fighting with the small dog who was hell bent on freeing herself and running towards the photographer.

“Ale? What are you doing here?” The footballer stood up with the little excited dog still wiggling in her arms. Rosalie smiled widely and motionned to the player to pass Nala to her, which she gladly did. While Rosalie was busy greeting the fluff ball, Alexia picked up the grocery bags and made her way to the brunette's kitchen. She was happy to see that the woman had not started dinner yet and immediately started to prepare the food.

“ Ale, are you gonna tell me why you are here?” She asked, sitting down at the breakfast bar, Nala still in her arms.

“I am making you dinner! I can go after, if you want me to, but I know you are tired and I wanted to do this for you.” Rosalie could feel tears threatening to fall as she watched the blonde work silently. It took a moment for Alexia to realize the smaller woman had not moved from her spot in front of her.

“You can do your things like normal Rosalie, just act like I am not here.” She said, finally turning towards her. Upon seeing her eyes, Alexia walked around the kitchen island and crouched down in front of the photographer. “What’s wrong?”

“ Nothing, this is perfect.” The brunette said, whipping away her tears with the hand that wasn’t holding Nala. Alexia understood why the English couple was worried. She took her hand and guided her to the sofa where she could see a pillow and a pile of blankets.

“ You can rest more, I will wake you when the food is ready.” Rosalie got comfortable once more, with the little pomeranian snuggling in her arms. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep once more.

It took Alexia a little more than half an hour to cook enough food so that the brunette would also have lunches ready. The sight she was met with when she moved to the living room warmed her heart. The brunette was bundled up in thick blankets in a fetal position and all that could be seen from the small dog were her little ears sticking out of the blanket. Alexia quickly snapped pictures of the two before carefully waking her up.

They ate together in comfortable silence, simply contempt in each other’s presence. Alexia insisted on doing the dishes herself, not wanting for the photographer to have anything to do once she would be gone. Rosalie took place at the counter with her laptop. She needed to finish a couple things before bed but she found that watching the captain so at ease in her kitchen was very distracting. This was as domestic as it could be, and it felt so natural, easy.

Once she was done, Alexia took a seat next to the photographer, closed her laptop and scooted closer. She turned around to face the blonde and as soon as their eyes met, she felt the remaining tension slowly escape her. Alexia’s hand reached up to tuck a strand of hair that had escaped from Rosalie’s bun, and finished her path on her cheek. She leaned into her hand and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of her palm.

“Thank you so much.” Rosalie whispered, not wanting to break the stillness of this moment.

“I am happy to do this for you.” She whispered back, slowly inching closer. “Rosalia..”

The word was but a breath on the footballer’s lips. She was so close Rosalie felt the air tickling her cheek. Their forehead connected, closing the distance even more.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” She sounded almost uncertain, as if she was scared the brunette would reject her. The thought alone almost pulled a chuckle from Rosalie.

“Oui, please.” She said, almost desperately, “You never have to ask again.”Her lips felt like coming home. How is it that after so little time, this woman had managed to break down all her defense and slithered her way into the depths of her mind.

The kiss was soft, unhurried. Their lips danced together, only parting to let out shuddering breaths. Rosalie reached out, pulling the blonde closer. It was like every part of her being was calling out for her. The heat was rising quickly, the need to be closer, feel her warmth invade all-consuming.

Rosalie was almost ashamed at the whine that escaped her when the footballer pulled away, leaving the forehead connected, as if she too, couldn’t fathom being separated just yet. “Rosalia, this is not what you need tonight.” She whispered, her hand caressing her cheek.

As good as her lips felt, Rosalie knew that the blonde was right. And yet, she could not let the blonde go. “ Can you stay please?” She asked in a broken voice that made Alexia’s heart shatter.

“Of course preciosa.” Alexia borrowed the same clothes she did the night before camp and stayed in the living room while the photographer went to shower. There was a shelf in the bookcase with what seemed like a collection of photo albums. They all had years written on the spine. Alexia picked one from what she assumed would be the brunette’s college years and sat on the sofa.

She was still flipping through the pages when the brunette emerged from the bathroom, hair still wet and only wearing underwear and an oversized t-shirt. It took a lot of self control for the blonde to keep her eyes from trailing down her toned legs. She put aside the album and took the hand Rosalie was holding out for her.

They settled together in bed, Alexia’s arms wrapped around her protectively. In this position, sleep came to her very easily. It was arguably the best sleep she had had since leaving for camp and the brunette most definitely needed it.

The wake up in itself, was everything but peaceful. She could not breathe. It was like her face was blocked by something warm and fury, with hair getting in her nose and mouth. She panicked and rose from the bed, grabbing the ball of fluff that had conveniently chosen her face as a resting spot. She coughed up a few hairs, still holding the dog at arm's length.

She was still groggy from sleep, but it did not keep her from registering the sound of Alexia’s laughter echoing next to her. “Your little beast almost killed me and you’re laughing?” She said indignantly, bringing Nala to her chest and kissing her head. She simply could not be mad at the little dog, but could definitely direct her anger towards the owner.

“You were so peaceful, you slept through the alarm, so I thought you needed something a little stronger to wake you up.” The smile on Alexia’s face was simply radiant. Her hair was wild from her night of sleep and her eyes were shining brightly in the morning light. Rosalie could not do anything but smile at the blonde and put the little dog down, only to jump on the blonde to playfully attack her.

This playful mood persisted all throughout the day. From the car ride to Alexia’s place so she could drop off Nala and pick up her training stuff, to their interaction on the pitch during training. Rosalie managed to capture the biggest amount of shots of Alexia smiling at the camera, although everyone knew it wasn’t at the camera she was smiling at, but rather the small woman behind it.

The build up to Saturday’s game was a lot smoother than usual. With the Barça captain’s mood having brightened a lot and the excitement of a home game palpable, all smiles could be seen in the viewing room. As soon as the meeting started, there was nothing but determination written on the girls faces.

There was only one who seemed out of it. She was always like this before a race. In her head, quiet, but inside, her mind was roaring. Her fears, her strategies, her goal pace, her desired splits, she was mapping everything out, leaving nothing to chance.

To everyone’s eyes, Rosalie looked empty, which concerned some of the girls who, instead of disturbing the photographer, seeked out answers in Lucy and Keira. The girls knew that Rosalie was simply in her game mode and would likely stay that way til after the race.

The only person who seemed to pull a smile from the brunette was none other than the captain herself. However fleeting it might have been, she was proud to have been the one to make her smile.

Sunday was game day, and Rosalie vowed to herself , for the sake of her friends, to be there for them. Tonight, she would have time to worry for herself. So she pulled up at the stadium coffee in hand and ready for a home game.

She was the one capturing the player's arrival. She loved this part almost just as much as the game itself. The girls were all smiles yet again, confident in their abilities and preparation. Upon seeing the photographer smiling they all greeted her similarly, often hugging her or high fiving her.

As always, when Alexia came around the corner, Rosalie’s breath caught in her throat. She was wearing a dark green tennis skirt, a white shirt and that leather jacket that made the photographer drool. She was mesmerizing and Rosalie could hardly hide her staring even behind her camera.

The blond stopped in front of her and opened her arms. Her familiar smell automatically calmed her.

« Ça va bien aller, Rosie, tu es prête. » She whispered in her ear before pulling away. Rosalie was too stunned to speak. Although heavily accented, Alexia’s sentence was flawless and the photographer could not help but smile widely at the thought of the footballer learning this for her.

Out on the field, the sun was shining bright and the stands were almost full. She immediately spotted her little group of friends frantically waving her way. She waved back and prepped her equipment.

It was a wonderful game. Five nil with a beautiful header from Alexia and a goal from Mapi. The pictures she had taken of their celebration together were some of her favourites she had taken so far at Barcelona. It showed perfectly how strong their friendship was. She’d had to print it out and give it to them later.

As she suspected, her friends had walked down and were stepping on the pitch as she was taking off her media bib. Leah was the first to reach the photographer, sneaking behind her and grabbing her in a tight hug from behind.

“ Howdy Frenchy, ready for your big day?” She asked, resting her chin on the brunette’s shoulder. Rosalie grabbed her hands around her waist and laughed as the blond lifted her and essentially carried her towards the group of Arsenal players. She did not let go, even after putting her down.

Alexia was very aware of that fact. She was on the other side of the pitch signing jerseys and greeting fans, but she could not help but keep a close eye on the brunette. She had seen Leah approach her, seen the way her arms had wrapped around her, and this was simply not sitting right with her.

She was aware, in the back of her mind, that Rosalie had confirmed that Leah was with the Swiss captain, and of the remaining fans' eyes following her every move, but for a second, these details evaded her mind.

She crossed the distance separating her and the photographer in a few seconds and arrived behind the two. The only problem was that she did not, for the life of her, think about what she would say once she had reached the little group.

The girls got quiet upon seeing the Spanish captain. Rosalie and Leah both made a curious face before turning around. Rosalie smiled widely at the Catalonian and opened her arms.

“That was such a beautiful goal Ale!” She said while the girl was holding her.

“Thank you bonita.” They were then met with a stunned group of five women who had certainly not put Alexia Putellas hugging their best friend in front of them, and a stadium full of fans, on their bingo card.

“Hola,” The Spanish woman said upon seeing their dumbfounded looks. She stepped closer to them, her hand never leaving the brunette’s waist. “Did you enjoy the game?”

They all knew each other, having played against each other for club and country, so introductions were not a need. It was very weird for Rosalie, seeing everyone interact like that. She noticed Alexia was colder towards Leah, and the reaction was clearly amusing the English captain. They all exchanged a few words, asking about their season so far, with Viv and Alexia clearly hitting it off thanks to them being the biggest football nerds the brunette had ever met. During their conversation, Alexia’s hand never left Rosalie’s hips. It was a calming, grounding touch which the photographer welcomed greatly.

The stadium was slowly emptying. The fans were bustling with happiness after such a wonderful victory. Even the staff was nearly done picking up the remaining equipment and eager to go home to finally relax. The only people on the pitch were Rosalie and her small band of footballers. They all spoke and laughed together, unaware that someone was watching them.

From the mezzanine, Martina had a perfect view of the Arsenal players along with the Barcelona captain and photographer. An idea started to bloom in her mind.

“Ok I think it might be time to go, Rosalia.” Alexia whispered in her ear. She was right, dinner was quickly approaching and she needed to be in bed early. The start of the race was at eight in the morning and god knows Rosalie would not sleep much tonight.

She in fact, did not. She was up at five, already dressed in her lucky red sports bra, a black zip-up hoodie and running short, and pacing around. Her oatmeal was getting cold on her breakfast counter. Lucy was picking her up. It was their little tradition. Ever since she had moved to England, every racing event she had been a part of, Lucy had always been the one driving her, something about needing family to be there for her.

Lucy arrived at her apartment at six, because she knew that Rosalie would not have eaten anything. It was always the same. She would arrive an hour before the agreed time, eat breakfast with the Canadian, more like force feeding her, and leave, all of this mostly done in silence. Rosalie always felt bad for her pre-race attitude but Lucy understood. She had worked with countless superstitious players with weird and annoying rituals, silence was the most peaceful she had encountered for sure.

It was usually when they arrived on site that Rosalie’s tongue got loose. “Will they be there at the start?”

“Yes, and someone will be there at every water stop, everything is already planned.” Lucy said, squeezing the photographer’s hand. They got out of the car and Rosalie headed straight for the English women and engulfed her in a hug. “Thank you for being here, ma grande soeur.”

“Je t’aime, tu le sais ça”

“Je t’aime aussi, Luce”

The tent was full of runners. Some clearly experienced and others who seemed like it was their first ever race. Rosalie respected all of them, she knew how hard your first was and she valued all the training that went into this sport. She also loved the community built around it, whatever your level of experience, they were all here together with a common goal in mind, reach the finish line. She found an empty bench at the back of the tent and pulled out her trusty Asics Metaspeed. Before lacing them up, she took out her noise cancelling earbuds and pooped them in. She hardly ever ran with music, but she purchased them solely for their nose cancelling abilities.

Ten minutes before the star and Rosalie was outside the tent stretching. She could see the growing crowd assembling around the inflatable arch where the signal would be given. Her friends were likely already there, with Beth, Leah and Keira complaining about how early it was and Viv, Lia and Lucy attempting to tame their grumpiness.A part of her mind hoped she would see Alexia somewhere, maybe with some of the Barça girls, but she wasn’t getting her hopes up, after all, she had not even thought about properly inviting them.

Five minutes before the start. She was walking slowly towards the starting line, making her path among the other runners. She had a goal in mind, and so she needed to start this race at the front. She smiled at the other racers, the apprehension palpable in the air, as she advanced more and more towards the front line.

Two minutes before the signal. Rosalie was happy with the spot she had managed to slither into. Almost in the middle, completely at the front. all she could hear was the sound of her breathing. Her heart was pounding in her chest as her eyes scanned the crowd for the first time.

Hundreds of people were screaming and cheering for their loved ones, and at the front, right behind the gate was her family. She smiled at them and waved. It took a second for her to realize that they were in fact, not alone. More than half of the Barcelona femini team was at their side, cheering with homemade signs.

Thirty seconds before the start, Rosalie's green eyes met with hazel ones. She was smiling, a calm expression on her face. She was here. A new kind of determination lit up inside her.

The signal was finally heard and all that was left to do was put one foot in front of the other.

[fluentmoviequoter]

nothing - Simon Riley

0.3k+ words of everything you give for Simon versus what you get in return. this is my first attempt writing for him so he might be very OOC (he's a softie but that was delusional and intentional)!

You do everything for Simon Riley and expect to get nothing in return. From next door or across an ocean, you heal him, care for him, and provide a good friend. Though you never anticipated it, what you get back in return is a quiet but respectful acquaintance. Then he leaves.

Ghost returns to Task Force 141 for another assignment. The only difference is a new tattoo: your initials hidden deep within a picture that means something to him and him alone. You made a difference in his life, even if he didn’t tell you.

One night, in the middle of the desert, those hidden letters catch his eye, and he realizes. Simon Riley - not Ghost – Simon knows he can love, all because one kind neighbor took the time to care. And somewhere along the way, between when you promised him that his past didn’t ruin him and when he walked away from you, Simon started loving again. Or maybe it was for the first time.

You’re almost to your door when a gloved hand wraps around your bicep. You turn quickly, startled despite the soft touch. Under the mask you’ve grown to look forward to seeing, Simon’s breath catches when you smile at him. He’s not big on physical touch, but his hand on your arm with only a glove to separate your skin encourages you.

“I missed you,” you admit softly.

“Missed you too,” Simon replies under his mask. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a problem, Si. I just-“

“Not for watchin' my place,” he interrupts. “For ev’rythin’ else.”

You smile and lean closer to him. A darker patch of pure black amidst his sleeve catches your attention.

“New tattoo?” you murmur.

Simon nods, and you run a finger over the new ink. He inhales at your touch but doesn’t shy away; it’s new, being touched without a fight, but Simon can see himself getting used to it.

“Maybe we can celebrate your homecoming tomorrow?” you offer. “I’m sure you could use a home-cooked meal after everything you’ve done.”

“I… ‘at’d be nice, love,” he answers.

“Tomorrow, then.” You step toward your door, and Simon’s hand falls to his side. “I’m really glad you’re home.”

“Me too.”

Your door closes, and Simon speaks silently under the mask. I had to come back home to you. To be loved.

A/N2: Thanks for reading this far!! Request Rules and Info if you'd like to indulge me by sending a req and helping me practice Simon's character.

[savagewildnerness]

Oh my word, Lestat has arrived! Oh my WORD! He is ACTUAL LESTAT! His hair! His face! His poignant expression (I’m sure he’s doing existential pondering!!!!) His titled head & cut-throat choker. His JACKET! His wee lo-rise pants! 😁 He is utter perfection! Thank you so much @toriangeli 🥹💗🥀🖤

I have given him his violin so he can get acquainted & begin practising!

You can still adopt glorious Claudia by @toriangeli here -

And @toriangeli is making a Gremlin 18th Century (I think?) Armand at the moment! He’ll be magnificent too!

“…I lifted the violin to my shoulder, braced it under my chin, and lifted the bow. I closed my eyes and I remembered music, Nicki's music, the way that his body had moved with it and his fingers came down with the pressure of hammers and he let the message travel to his fingers from his soul.

  I plunged into it, the music suddenly wailing upwards and rippling down again as my fingers danced. It was a song, all right, I could make a song. The tones were pure and rich as they echoed off the close walls with a resounding volume, creating the wailing beseeching voice that only the violin can make. I went madly on with it, rocking back and forth, forgetting Nicki, forgetting everything but the feel of my fingers stabbing at the soundboard and the realization that I was making this, this was coming out of me, and it plummeted and climbed and overflowed ever louder and louder as I bore down upon it with the frantic sawing of the bow.

  I was singing with it, I was humming and then singing loudly, and all the gold of the little room was a blur. And suddenly it seemed my own voice became louder, inexplicably louder, with a pure high note which I knew that I myself could not possibly sing. Yet it was there, this beautiful note, steady and unchanging and growing even louder until it was hurting my ears. I played harder, more frantically, and I heard my own gasps coming, and I knew suddenly that I was not the one making this strange high note!

  The blood was going to come out of my ears if the note did not stop. And I wasn't making the note! Without stopping the music, without giving in to the pain that was splitting my head, I looked forward and I saw Akasha had risen and her eyes were very wide and her mouth was a perfect O. The sound was coming from her, she was making it, and she was moving off the steps of the tabernacle towards me with her arms outstretched and the note pierced my eardrums as if it were a blade of steel.”

(Lestat & I might do an improvise together to this some day! Gotta let this tattoo heal a bit more first, so maybe not for a bit! 😉🖤🥀🎶🎻)

I have to leave the house now, so I can’t even stare at Lestat all afternoon 🥺, but I can smile in my heart knowing he’ll be here, awaiting my return! 🥰💚🖤🥀

PS I adore chartreuse!

[solangelotus]

seven devils (part one)

luke castellan x reader (gender neutral)

my mind (now)

summary: capture the flag brings injuries plus shared feelings and memories between you and luke. you once loved him and try your hardest to understand where you went wrong, all while trying to change his fate. (lovers to enemies series)

word count: 4.2k

warnings: starts right before tlt, apollo!reader, lots of angst, graphic fighting, injury + healing descriptions, fluffy memories, mentions of character deaths (thalia) - also mentions alison, the new character being introduced in s2 of the show and using her as a plot point worked out well

author's note: lovers to enemies fic for luke is just too perfect 🤌 also it’s great because it’s therapeutic for me after going through my own lovers to enemies!

masterlist | series masterlist

there’s a chill in the air that makes it feel like the dead of winter instead of a friday in late may. you suppose you can blame it on the fact that your perch in which you sat during each capture the flag game was high up in the treetops. it was a perfect spot; forty feet above zeus’s fist, and you could see zephyros creek, the boundary.

the flag was wedged into the top of the rock pile, but the game had started over an hour ago and no one was to be seen yet aside from your teammates. sweat beads on your forehead from the red-plumed helmet, but you know if you take it off it will only increase the chill in your bones.

a crunch echoes across the woods, and you spy your brothers, will solace and lee fletcher, hastily grabbing their bows from opposite sides of the woods. you knew michael yew was nearby in a treetop much like you, but you had yet to spot him. he was backup for little will; the eleven-year-old was proving to be an exceptional medic, but he had not inherited great aim like most of your siblings.

you spot a pair of blue plumes by the boundary, one much shorter than the other. annabeth is the shorter one, you can tell from the careful, calculated steps. the only other person who always searches for the flag that would be so careless with his steps is chris rodriguez. but if he was with annabeth, then where was luke?

“fuck,” you mutter and start scaling down the tree as quickly as you can, pulling your bow from over your shoulder. crouching on a branch halfway down the tree, you load a sonic bow and watch the muddy ground. it had rained the day before, which attributed to the chill in the air. you spot the footprints and let the arrow fly before you can think twice.

annabeth wasn’t wearing her cap which meant someone was, and you hear a groan over the loud blast of music that affected the empty ground. will begins to run towards the area, and once you make it to the forest floor, you sprint towards the pile of rocks. will’s small legs fail to carry him as fast as yours and he yells, “y/n, what’s happening?!”

“castellan is,” you yell back and ready another arrow, trying your best to abide by the ten-yard rule. you watch carefully; lee intercepts will and tells him to find michael to distract the others, and then makes his way to your side.

“where is he?” your brother asks and you shake your head. scanning the ground where the footsteps end, you pull another arrow out of your quiver. unfortunately, even after years you still knew his body like the back of your hand. 

you had been his doctor from the day he arrived until he was seventeen, but it would be superficial to say that’s why you knew his body so well. a tattoo lay on the inside of his left ankle from when you were fifteen and took fake ids to a sketchy parlor ten miles from camp. a crooked line scarred his upper thigh from one of the first times he gave you sword fighting lessons. just above the mole you used to adore on his right forearm lays a burn mark from the time you attempted to make cookies together.

you sigh and look at a tree behind the spot to confirm the right height you need before you let the arrow fly. worse comes to worse, it just flies over his head. but you knew better, and the arrow did exactly what you planned; it knocked the hat off of his head and into the mud beside him. “always good with a bow, but never with the sword.”

you just shake your head and reach for your dagger-lined belt. lee knocks an arrow but you put your hand out to him. “it’s a diversion, lee. he’s here to distract us so annabeth and chris can swoop in. i’ll fight him off and you stay on guard.”

“still thinking highly of yourself, i see,” luke grumbles. you were both popular at camp to say the least, both for your welcoming personalities but also for your ongoing rivalry. popular for the worst reasons, seeing as you two being anywhere near each other usually leads to chaos.

“i literally heard you and chris talking about it at the campfire last night.”

“it’s kind of old news at this point,” lee shrugs, and you hate that he’s always a voice of reason, “you two always seek each other out, even if it’s not explicitly planned.”

“lee,” you plead, and gesture to the flag. he nods and you turn back to face the son of hermes, taking small strides to him.

“did you hear who’s coming back this summer?” luke asks with a smirk. you start to think throwing one of your daggers at his face might be worth the loss of dessert privileges. 

“i’m not here to talk, castellan.”

“alison’s coming back,” he informs, a boyish grin spreads across his face but doesn’t reach his hungry eyes. you gulp and suddenly you feel like you are sixteen again; a joy in the silent pain he can see in you. he knows you see him more clearly than anyone else has.

you feel the dagger in your hand start to shake. love and hate feel too similar; your pulse speeds the longer he looks at you. you hate yourself for the way he can still get under your skin after so many years. “why would i care?” you try your best to sound stern, but the tone of your voice betrays you.

“why wouldn’t you?”

“she’s not my friend.”

“we’re all well aware,” he spits out, his eyes drifting to where lee stands in earshot of you both. “you spoke so highly of her just to abandon her at a time of need. that’s why no one trusts you now.”

“i never did anything to her! you know this! the two of you lied to me, and lied to everyone about me!” you yell at him and tighten your grip on your dagger. he draws his sword and you contemplate pulling your own, but he was right about one thing: you were never good with your sword. you wished you could go back in time and relish the moment you sliced his upper thigh instead of feeling bad for it back then.

“i can’t believe it’s been three years and you’re still so delusional,” he laughs, and you throw your first dagger at the hand that holds his sword. he was caught off guard, but he was relying on the old mindset you had where you hated hurting people. the fact of the matter was you did, and you knew that was why the dagger flew just a few inches from the target. “still can’t aim for shit either.”

“shut up,” you breathe out, and pull your sword from its scabbard at your waist. the bow and daggers had been a gift from your father, and truthfully, you had extremely good aim. you never would have received two gifts from him without such a talent. deep down you were still a medic, and people were so different from bloodthirsty monsters who gave you no choice.

your attempts to deflect luke’s swings are futile, he’s always been quicker, better, and more efficient with a sword. your bow was no match in close-up combat. as a child of apollo, you were born for the outskirts of battle, not for the frontline. but you hated looking like a fool.

like other demigods, your restlessness helped you in battle. sure it helped the children of the war deities more, you had seen the flip switch in clarisse, silena, and annabeth, especially. their godly power filling them has always been fascinating, even when you’re on the receiving end. no one strategized like annabeth, her intelligence with the field and for all weapons was scary. clarisse was passionate, stronger than most, and she was a force just like her father. silena, and all of her siblings, got teased for their bright pink armor and for the vanity that people assumed of them. but you had seen the rage that filled silena’s eyes when she was challenged, the rage that came with being the daughter of the love goddess who was also a war goddess. aphrodite and her children were discounted for their skills, but there’s a reason the team that included cabin 10 usually won. you were thankful the aphrodite cabin adorned the red plumes today.

there was no switch in your siblings. predictability was a blessing and a curse; prophetic thoughts and visions could be hard to interpret. overthinking during a battle affected many of the children of apollo; there was no changing fate.

no one – not even lee who had the best intuition out of anyone – could have predicted your next move as you successfully ducked under luke’s sword as he swung it at your helmeted head. he was the greatest swordsman in 300 years, but he was playing dirty right now. who were you to make that easier?

you realize the scream you hear is luke’s as a dagger in your non-dominant hand stabs into his thigh. when did you grab the blade? when did the flip you didn’t know existed inside you switch? 

his sword fell to the ground when he clasped his thigh and you dive to grab for it. you hear lee yell your name, but for once you have the upper hand on luke and you refuse to let it go. “no!”

luke’s voice echoes in your mind as you grab his sword, and he grabs the back of your armor in an attempt to pull you away. he uses his free hand to yank off your helmet, and he pushes you back to the ground. the breath is knocked from your lungs and you roll over onto your back to look at him. the impact had released his sword from your grip and your head swam as he held his sword out towards your face. fear swims within you. how far would he go?

the conch sounds breaks through the camp and you can hear cheering, but you know it’s from your team. will and michael successfully kept chris and annabeth distracted. luke is furious, you can tell from the way his nose crinkles and the furrow between his brows. he stabs his sword into the ground right beside you and you flinch. “we would have fucking won if it wasn’t for you!”

“it’s just a game, luke,” you groan out, your chest and lungs still burning. you try to sit up but you feel so delirious, you knew your head had hit the ground but you didn’t realize you had hit it so hard. where was the adrenaline you had just a few moments ago?

“if it’s just a game, then why would you stab me?!”

“you swung your sword at my head!” you yell, wincing at your volume. you hear footsteps and silently pray that it’s lee coming to intercept after the announcement of your team’s victory.

“because you messed me up, you fucked me over! how dare you?!” he yells at you, the tears begin to well up in your eyes. his narrow at you and you notice him clench his fists; this isn’t about the game.

“how dare i? how dare fucking you?!” you scream back until you feel a hand grab yours. you swear your vision briefly goes out as you quickly turn your head to face your brother. lee is at your side and shushing you as he pushes your hair from your face.

“luke, go,” lee demands, earning himself a scoff and eye roll from the older boy. you close your eyes, trying to steady your persistent, uneven breaths. stomping fills your ears as lee helps you to your feet until your siblings find you and help get you to the infirmary.

the cabins involved on the blue team sulk at the campfire and chris notes the bandage wrapped around luke’s thigh. annabeth is pissed; her hat is muddy and her team lost. “i’m sorry, beth.”

“it’s your fault we lost,” she reminds him, using a rag to get the mud off of the gift from her mother.

“you got distracted too!”

“no,” she narrows her eyes at him, “you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to act like it’s my fault too when you have this ridiculous vendetta against y/n. you need to get over whatever happened years ago with them. you suck at games, you are weaker than you used to be, and your only motivation is to get back at them. what happened to glory? to pride?”

“you don’t understand.”

“then make me,” she grits her teeth, shoving the towel and hat into his lap, “and clean my hat. you should have picked it up the second it fell.”

“they cornered me!”

“the best swordsman in centuries supposedly got cornered and failed to defend himself and retrieve his little sister’s most prized possession? if y/n is as horrible at battling as you make everyone believe then you wouldn’t have gotten your butt kicked. get over yourself, luke.”

annabeth rushes away from the fire and towards the infirmary. when the bad blood began between you and luke, annabeth told you both she would never pick sides. she and you grew close after her first night at camp when she was mean and you still showed her nothing but kindness. you filled the older sibling void that she had lost with thalia.

when she enters the infirmary, she sees you laughing while laying in a bed with lee. she smiles at the joy in your face, at the crinkles by your eyes when you laugh. she loves the wide grin the children of apollo have, and how it strikes happiness in all those who experience it. without even looking at the door, you could sense her presence; something you and lee seemed to experience was being able to sense those nearby.  you wonder if it’s a gift from your father to be able to sense someone before they can approach you. maybe it’s a gift to prevent the healer from injury in a battle.

annabeth slides into the chair at your bedside and she accepts the hand you stick out for her, “how are you?”

“i’m fine now, much better after some ambrosia and a snack.”

“what happened?”

“nothing, it’s alright.” a sinking feeling fills annabeth’s stomach with your reassurance and forced smile. something is wrong. luke was quick to blame you, to say you tricked him and hurt him without a second glance, but you were the one in the infirmary. he had a singular bandage on his thigh. his anger was getting worse, he wasn’t pulling punches with anyone as he used to. “annabeth, what’s wrong?”

“i’m worried,” her voice trembles and you practically push lee out of bed. he accepts the hint and goes to the office to finish the paperwork that comes each friday night after capture the flag. you pull annabeth’s hand and she crawls into the creaky infirmary bed. “there’s something wrong.”

you wrap your arms around the small girl and press your lips to her hairline. annabeth is strong, both physically and emotionally, but she always holds it in. she guards herself heavily, but you have always been someone she needs not to protect herself against. “i…i know.”

“does lee know his fate?” annabeth questions. she continues to identify the distance in her brother, how he sneaks away alone at night. she used to believe it was to be with someone, but he was too good to cheat on alison; they had been together for three years. annabeth knows lee is the closest camp has to a prophet outside of the oracle.

“no,” you answer truthfully. you hope your expression stays balanced, that she will not see what you omit. that instead of lee, it’s you who sees his fate.

back at the campfire, luke eyes get lost in the flames. his hands move the towel absentmindedly against the gift from athena, and he silently prays to kronos to wish that his weakness can disappear. the warm flicker of light reminds him of sunlight, of the light that everyone sees in you. the light is his weakness, the hurt in your eyes fills him with guilt. but you are too good.

he has always known you were too good. the trust you have in the divine fills him with disgust. he hates that you convinced him to get that stupid wing tattooed on his ankle, and he hates that he convinced you to get a sun on your own. his naivete as a child was blinding. 

you fought tooth and nail to convince him of being loved, of being good, and he accepted it. he believed it too. the lord of time could never change his fate, only hasten it with the vow he has taken. 

he heard everything you told him, but maybe if he had truly listened then he could be good like you. maybe he could have ended up as kind and loving as the first night you met.

you had snuck away from the campfire when you could sense some commotion. team blue had won capture the flag, but your camp hoodie had gotten dingy – you wanted nothing more than to shower. the big house was just a short walk from the campfire, and inside were extra toiletries that you were going to need.

a commotion at the top of half-blood hill steered your attention away from the prospect of showering. you could see a few shadows in the moonlight and began sprinting towards the hill, pulling your sword from its sheath in the process. you would be the first to admit you were shit with a sword, but your bow and arrows were back in your cabin so you had to make due.

luke was leading a limping annabeth over the border when you arrived on the hill, and he couldn’t focus on anything other than your face. he didn’t care about the beaten-up sweater or the jeans caked in mud; he didn’t even care to draw his weapon when you pointed your sword at him. he saw nothing but you, your essence, and the concern firm in your eyes. there was no malice in the face threatening him with a sword; he knew you could never hurt them.

the moonlight created a soft glow around your face, bouncing off the snowflakes that began littering your hair. he saw your mouth move, but everything was quiet, everything was still. he was sure you were a child of aphrodite; no one could look so perfect and disheveled. his fourteen-year-old self was sure he would never meet anyone so beautiful ever again. “hello?”

“hi,” he breathed out as you walked closer to him. your voice was firm, but the weapon in your hand was beginning to shake. the fearlessness you tried to present yourself with was fading fast, and he was trying hard not to break down at the thought of thalia and grover not being beside him.

“are you okay?”

“did you seriously just ask that?” the small girl beside him asked as tears streamed down her face. your heart hurt for her, she couldn’t have been any older than eight you guessed. you put your sword back in its sheath while she tried her best to keep a stern expression. her stare was harsh but you could tell she was deflecting from something.

“s-sorry. i, uh, mean are you hurt? we have an infirmary.”

“no.”

“yes,” luke corrected, and you gestured toward the building beside the big house. bleating sounds fill the air, and before you can comprehend it, a young satyr runs quickly through the barrier and nearly topples into you. he’s hyperventilating and his face is covered in tears and grime.

“grover?!”

“y/n!” he exclaimed and wrapped you in a hug. he’s still deeply upset and in shock, it doesn’t take a genius to see it.

“grover, are-” you’re cut off with a deafening scream. it wasn’t until later on that you realized it had been your own. lightning struck the ground right at the barrier, and a tree slowly erupted into form and took shape. fear filled your body. you had never been at the scene of new arrivals, let alone at such an event. capture the flag was the extent of the danger you faced – this was beyond it. grover wrapped his arms around you, and you looked at him. 

the fear that filled your body was dissipating. it was useless in a time when two demigods were in need right beside you – sobs wracked both of their bodies as they held each other. the girl’s ankle was visibly swollen, and the boy had many gashes all over his body. you and lee had been training for this; this was your moment to put your parentage to use. “grover, if you’re not hurt then go find chiron. tell him what’s happened while i get these two to the infirmary.”

grover trots off in the direction of the campfire, and the boy picks the girl up as you hastily walk toward the infirmary. it was unlocked, thankfully, but you knew your sister, val, was at the campfire. until she, the main healer, came back you were on your own. you introduced yourself, and got both of them onto a bed together.

“i’m luke. luke castellan,” he told you as you inspected the small girl’s ankle. purple bruises began to litter her deep skin and she winced as you pressed lightly on the skin. you grabbed the bandage roll and started to wrap and secure it tightly on her ankle to stabilize it. she held her hand out and you placed a square of ambrosia in it. “this is annabeth chase.”

“you’re brave, annabeth. your ankle is definitely broken but it’ll heal too fast for a cast. the first few days at camp are overwhelming as it is, so i imagine you are going to be forced to take it easy anyway with this injury,” you explained to her, but she continued to glare at you.

luke was a much easier patient. he was silent, only whispering a response to your questioning here and there. you figured it was easier to stay silent while being stitched up anyway, so you gave him some slack for it. you finished stitching a deeper cut on his arm, and moved to a gash on his leg. it was so infected you nearly gagged, so you grabbed a canteen of nectar and began to flush the wound. he sighed in relief and looked down at you. “how old are you?”

“thirteen,” you answered and grabbed a new needle and more surgical thread, “how old are the both of you?”

“she’s seven, and i’m fourteen,” he grimaced as you embedded the needle into his skin. you assumed he was your age, but you were glad your guess was right for the both of them. “how do you know what to do?”

“my dad is apollo.”

“oh, mine is hermes.”

“who’s yours, annabeth?”

“thalia’s was zeus,” she said instead, and your brows furrowed at the both of them.

“who’s thalia?”

“the tree that made you scream,” annabeth huffed and rolled her eyes.

“daughter of athena?”

“how did you know?” she asked and finally her facade fell. she looked startled and like she was ready to start fighting again.

“my best friend is a daughter of athena, so your sister. she’s a lot like you. her name is alison,” she smiled at you. chiron walked in through the infirmary doors with val, lee, and grover hot on his hooves. val quickly started to inspect your work and gave you a high five once she saw how well you had done.

luke watched the smile on your face grow and he felt his heart constrict. he should have known from the second he saw you that you were the child of apollo; it explained the glow and warmth you gave off upon seeing you. he was grateful it was you who stumbled upon them; you were a great distraction from the grief that began to fill him.

“do you still love him?” you think about her words. about the little luke, you knew when you were just thirteen and fourteen, about the luke you met that first night. 

annabeth stares at your vacant, slack face with hooded eyes, the tears slowly streaming as she tries to choke back the anxieties that fill her. she’s wisdom’s daughter, yet she feels like she has no idea how to get the answer to this problem. returning your stare to her, you release yourself of the reverie you found yourself in. “i believe it’s my fate.”

↬ next

[merwgue]

Azriel & Rhysand: The Self-Hating Illyrians? Let’s Talk About That…

Alright, so let's dive into something that’s been bugging me for a while: the way Azriel and Rhysand talk about Illyrians—and how it mirrors their own insecurities and self-hatred toward their own race. Now, I know we all love our brooding shadowsinger and we tolerate (thats the nicest thing i can say okay???) Rhysand, but let’s call a spade a spade. These guys are racist to themselves, and it shows in how they talk about, treat, and rule Illyria.

First off, Azriel. The man has been through some serious trauma—no one is denying that. The abuse he faced as a child at the hands of his Illyrian family was horrific. But because of that, he carries this internalized hatred towards his own people. He sees Illyrians as “brutes,” and that’s not just a throwaway comment. It’s an insight into how he views himself as an Illyrian. He’s distanced himself from his race because it’s too painful for him to reconcile with what they represent to him—his own past, his pain, his trauma. Instead of embracing his heritage and trying to heal from it, he’s rejected it entirely, which is… problematic, to say the least.

Now, let’s talk about Rhysand. Yes, he’s half Illyrian, and yet, what does he do? He rules over Illyria like a colonizer. He’s constantly talking about how brutal and savage the Illyrians are, how they need to be “controlled” and “disciplined.” Sound familiar? Rhysand’s actions in Illyria are more about projecting his own insecurities about being half Illyrian than about actually ruling fairly. He’s ashamed of his heritage and so, instead of working with the Illyrians to improve things, he enforces harsh rule, stifling them instead of helping them grow.

What’s worse is that they both act like they’re doing Illyria a favor by stepping in and being these benevolent rulers. But honestly, what they’re doing is just mirroring their internalized racism. They can’t accept their own Illyrian roots, so they enforce those insecurities onto the people. Rhysand and Azriel might think they’re “better” because they’ve moved beyond the more traditional Illyrian ways, but really, they’re just turning their backs on their own heritage. And that’s not empowerment—that’s self-hatred.

Now, let’s touch on the Elriel shippers. First of all, ship whoever you want—I’m not here to police your ships. But what I am here to say is this: erasing Azriel’s Illyrian identity to fit into a certain romantic narrative is just wrong. Part of what makes Azriel, Azriel, is his struggle with his own identity. It’s his journey of trying to reconcile the trauma of his past with the culture he comes from. There’s depth there, and it’s a storyline that needs resolution, not erasure.

Some Elriel shippers think that in his potential book (if SJM ever gives it to them), Azriel should fully distance himself from Illyria, take off his tattoos, and basically reinvent himself into a whole new character. Excuse me, but what? That’s not character growth, that’s character erasure. The Illyrian tattoos are a symbol of his heritage, his connection to his people. Sure, he has a lot of complicated feelings about Illyria because of his past, but that doesn’t mean the answer is to remove all traces of it from his life.

You can’t just “remove” your culture. It’s something you’re born into, something that shapes you, whether you like it or not. It’s tied to your ancestors, your lineage. For Azriel to fully come to terms with who he is, he has to accept that, yes, he’s Illyrian. He can’t get over that by erasing it—he has to embrace it, faults and all, and move forward. That’s what real growth would look like.

By pushing for Azriel to cut ties with Illyria entirely, some of these shippers are promoting a racist narrative, whether they realize it or not. It’s saying that Azriel can only be worthy of love or redemption if he fully removes himself from the culture that raised him. And that’s just wrong. His identity crisis is not something that should be “fixed” by wiping the slate clean. It should be something he works through, learns from, and ultimately accepts as part of himself.

In fact, if we want real character development, Azriel’s arc should focus on him embracing his Illyrian heritage, understanding that while there are negative aspects of his past, that doesn’t define all of Illyria or his future. His story shouldn’t end with him running away from his culture, but with him reclaiming it on his own terms. The Illyrian culture, with all its flaws, is still his culture, and rejecting it completely would mean rejecting a core part of who he is. Instead of distancing himself further, Azriel needs to find a way to reconcile with the Illyrian identity, maybe even becoming a figure of change within his own race. Rather than mirroring the oppressive behavior of Rhysand, who seeks to control and stifle the Illyrians, Azriel could be the bridge that finally helps Illyria evolve into something better—something that preserves the strength of its people while discarding the more harmful traditions.

Imagine an arc where Azriel not only accepts his heritage but becomes a leader for Illyrian reform, where he champions education, equality, and opportunity for both the males and the females of his race. That would be growth. That would be healing. And let’s be honest, Azriel’s character needs that kind of closure after all the trauma he’s been through. But it has to come from a place of embracing who he is, not trying to erase it.

Now, coming back to Rhysand for a second—his treatment of Illyria is a whole other can of worms. It’s easy to label him as a progressive leader because of how he treats some of his people (read: his Inner Circle), but his actions toward the Illyrians tell a different story. Rhysand rules Illyria through fear and force, much like the High Lords he claims to be better than. He keeps the Illyrians in line with brute power, allowing their wings to be clipped, their women to be oppressed, and their men to be locked into a cycle of violent traditions. And let’s not forget, he’s never really done anything to truly help the Illyrians rise above their current state. Instead, he’s more focused on maintaining control over them, making sure they don’t challenge his authority.

Rhysand’s rule in Illyria is a dictatorship, no matter how you spin it. He pretends to be “freeing” people, but what he’s actually doing is ensuring they stay under his thumb. And Azriel, who has internalized so much hatred for his own race, is complicit in this. He doesn’t push for change or reform because he’s too caught up in his own disdain for his heritage. In a way, Rhysand and Azriel’s attitudes toward Illyria are two sides of the same coin. Rhysand rules it with an iron fist, and Azriel, with his internalized racism, sees that as justified.

Let’s also not forget the dynamic between Rhysand and Azriel within the Inner Circle itself. The Night Court, while seemingly “progressive,” is built on a hierarchy that’s not so different from the oppression they claim to fight. Rhysand keeps a tight leash on his friends, and Azriel, with all his inner conflict and loyalty, falls in line. His insecurities about his heritage make him more susceptible to Rhysand’s control because, in a way, Azriel believes he’s lesser. He believes he’s damaged because of his past, and that allows Rhysand to subtly manipulate him, never pushing him to embrace his Illyrian roots, because that would threaten the order Rhysand has established.

Which brings us back to the issue with the fandom. There are fans out there who, for some reason, want Azriel to completely erase his Illyrian identity, thinking it’s part of his “growth.” But how is denying where you come from, and what shaped you, growth?

The idea that Azriel could just “remove” the Illyrian part of himself and somehow become a better character is incredibly damaging. It promotes the idea that you can (and should) sever ties with your roots if they’re painful or complicated. But that’s not how real people heal, and it’s not how characters should evolve either. If anything, Azriel should be diving deeper into his Illyrian heritage, understanding that while there’s darkness there, there’s also strength and resilience—and that’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of.

In the end, what Azriel needs isn’t to “get over” being Illyrian. He needs to accept it, embrace it, and find a way to redefine what it means to him. And Rhysand, for all his posturing as a forward-thinking High Lord, needs to stop ruling Illyria with fear and suppression, and instead, actually help his people rise up. Otherwise, they’re both just perpetuating a cycle of self-hatred and control that benefits no one, least of all themselves.

Ty @shadowqueenjude for the idea pookster

[slytherinshua]

☾　REBORN, UNDEAD　( 성한빈 )

genre angst , fluff , vampire au , undead au , former vampire!hanbin x former vampire!fem!reader   cw blood and battle mentions (from the past in pt 2) , crying   wc 1363   request no   note for @nonononranghaee from the moot fic form (although ik you just went on hiatus but it's okay read whenever ur back !!) also please please read part 1 and part 2 of this fic series before reading part 3 because this will not make sense without reading part 2 esp!!! there will probably be a part 4 to this as well and we'll see after that. thank you so much for all the love on this series so far as well <3   net @kstrucknet @chrimatanet

“Stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine. I won’t get hurt. I promise I won’t.”

In eighteen hundred years, Hanbin had never broken a promise to you. Until now. He was painfully aware that somehow, something had gone wrong on that battlefield. He couldn’t remember what, but something alerted him that everything was very, very wrong. 

“Y/n? Y/n! Where are you?” Hanbin’s shouts landed on deaf ears, echoing around the dark void without anyone to receive them. He didn’t know where he was, or how he ended up there in the first place. The last thing he remembered was you holding him close, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead with tears in your eyes. Why were you crying? Why did you look so scared?

His gaze dropped to his hands, inspecting them as if they would give him some answers. They looked normal, but something felt different. He couldn’t feel his magic surging in his veins. Before, he could sense his heart beating slowly if he focused, but now, it felt like it was pounding in his chest, so loud he couldn’t stop hearing it. He ran his tongue along the front of his teeth: no fangs. 

Was he… no longer a vampire? 

He touched his collarbone, feeling for the tattoos. They were still there, yet they didn’t react to his touch. No glowing, no surge of his powers, just stillness. He gulped. For the first time, unquenchable fear filled his body.

For hundreds of years he had learned to live a certain way. Always close to you, so that his powers could be strongest. Always in harmony between his natural body and supernatural vampiric features. He never needed to worry about sickness or the cold. He could transform into a bat at will or heal wounds, both physical and mental. 

He felt useless now, unable to do any of the things he used to. Lost, without a single direction to go towards. He couldn’t remember what he did as a human; what he used to fill his time with. It was too long ago to recall. He felt like he had just been born again, with no sense of how to go about the world. He’d have to learn all over again. But first, he was determined to find you. 

He wasn’t himself without you. You had held a part of him for too long, caring for his soul as if it was your own. If he wasn’t with you, he had no purpose. So, he took a few steps forward, slowly getting used to the feeling of the ground beneath his feet. Every step took energy he wasn’t used to expending. He felt weak, as if he could pass out at any moment. A pounding headache across his forehead and a weak unstable feeling in his knees. He had never felt this weak as a vampire. 

With each step he took, more ground appeared beneath his feet. Slowly, a sort of town came into view. It was quaint. Little wooden cottages topped with red roofs. Signs pointed out the street names and directions. He stopped to read a few, figuring out which way to head next. He hesitantly chose the town centre, deciding it was a reasonable spot to start. 

People stared at him as he walked by. He didn’t care to find out why. Years of only caring about your opinions trained him to not give them a second glance. He knew his purpose, sure of himself and confident. Although he was scared to admit that his confidence was wavering without you by his side. 

He reached the town square where an official looking building stood next to a fountain. He assumed it must be the governor’s office or some mayor’s building. Maybe he could get a list of residents? He stepped up the stairs, pulling the door open to be met with a fairly empty entranceway. There was a line of counters, behind which secretaries typed away at their typewriters and scribbled on paper with pens. He walked up to one of the open spots on the counter, face-to-face with an elderly man who’s fingers flew across the typewriter with practised ease.

“How may I help you?” His accent was thick and his tone weighted down by dull tiredness. He didn’t seem fazed by whatever had caused the other residents to stare unabashedly at Hanbin. The old man barely blinked twice at him.

“I’m looking for a list of residents in the town. I need to contact someone.” Hanbin said quietly. The man nodded, muttering that he would find a list in the back somewhere. As Hanbin was left alone for the time being, he surveyed the other people in the building, each talking at the counter as well. They were too quiet for him to make out the conversations; his hearing significantly weakened since he lost his powers. One voice stood out, though.

“No, not Hanjin— I’m looking for Hanbin! Sung Hanbin.”

Hanbin’s eyes widened, his head whipping around to try to find the owner of the loud voice. 

“How many times do I have to repeat myself? He’s about 180cm tall, has dark black hair, pale skin, and a slim face. He has to be in your records somewhere.”

“Ma’am, I’m sure we can find him, rest assured. What did you say his birthday was again?”

“June thirteenth.”

“What year?”

“25.”

“1925?”

“No. 25. The year 25. Zero, zero, two, five.”

“Ma’am, I’m not sure I follow. Do you mean to say he is over nineteen hundred years old? No human has ever—”  

Hanbin had never felt his heart race so fast. Adrenaline pulled at every muscle in his body so suddenly he could hardly comprehend what was happening before his legs were rushing him over to where you stood, arguing with the lady at the counter.

“Y/n,” He called to you, and time seemed to slow as you turned your head. “Excuse us,” He mumbled quickly to the lady at the counter, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out the door of the building. He kept walking, his hold on your arm tight, afraid you would disappear. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, entranced by his appearance. Once he had found a secluded area, he stopped walking, trailing his hand up your arm to your shoulder instead.

“What happened? Where are we?” The questions flew out of his mouth. You didn’t have an answer for him. 

“I’ve been looking for you for days.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked at him. You touched his cheek with your hand. It felt warm. 

“What happened on the day of the battle?” He asked again, prying for an answer. You shook your head, tears falling. You just stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him, head against his chest. Shaky breaths in as you felt his heartbeat; steady, fast, warm. 

“I don’t want to think about it.” You told him quietly. Hanbin could only hold you, mind confused and worried. There were so many questions he had. He was sure you had the answers, if only you’d tell him. But he wouldn’t push you, not when you clearly were in a delicate mental state. 

He wished he could feel you like he used to. You had only been in his arms a few minutes, but it felt different. He couldn’t relax your body with a spell, or get a peek into your thoughts. He tried to figure you out from the outside, and that was a difficult task. 

“We should get you new clothes. These ones are soaked with blood.” You mumbled after a while, face still buried against his chest. Hanbin looked down to his sleeve, noticing for the first time that he did have very obvious stains. No wonder he got so many curious stares. He wondered what they were from. Surely, it couldn’t have been his own blood. He wasn’t injured or bleeding. 

“Y/n, what is this town?” Hanbin asked anxiously, as he spotted someone looking at you both from across the road. 

“It’s for the undead. Everyone here has already passed away, including you and me.”

“What?”

zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @sxmmerberries,,

@cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @nicholasluvbot,, @stantxtforabetterlife

[kechiwrites]

not quite heart-shaped

simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader

synopsis: you and simon both have the 14th off, and by god you were going to make the most of it. pt. 4/?

wc: 2.3k

cw: afab + fem!reader, fluff, banter, cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, very light breeding kink, femme pet name (princess), no use of y/n ever.

an: the return of medic reader, special thanks to @weebitofaslag who with a single comment reignited my love for their dynamic. babes all my knowledge of the military comes from romance novels, mw2 campaign and my fleeting contact with the canadian armed forces. so like if i get something wrong…don’t tell me. happy valentines day!

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

"Three." The tense quiet of the bedroom is disrupted by your offer. 

Ghost stands in front of you, and despite his crossed arms his posture is deceptively casual.

He scoffs at your pitch. The standoff is common for the two of you. Basically foreplay at this point. Pretending to be irritated and annoyed with each other until you're basically begging to rip each other's clothes off.

"No way." He grunts, but doesn't provide a number of his own.

You can't keep the disbelief out of your tone.

"Less than three, Simon? You're losing your touch!"

That does get a rise out of him and he stops leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"More than three. Anything less than five is a waste of both of our days off. But you knew that, didn't you, princess?"

"I don't know if I have five in me to give, honestly." You choke out, already tugging off the sweater you wore. 

"If I'm eating you out, I'm spending the day down there." He huffs. 

You're breathless when you finally respond, your cool and collected demeanour crumbling in the wake of his assertion.

"Yeah okay, that's fine, but wanting to fuck me after? I may not even be conscious." When he doesn’t respond, you gasp dramatically, like a soap opera lead discovering a villain’s plot. "Maybe that's what you want! Simon! Who knew you were so depraved?" It’s easy to be silly with him lately, even more so when you’re both free of the oppressive air of the base you’re both stationed at.

"Get on the bed or get out of my house." His shirt’s already off, and it’s oh so hard to stay on the task of mocking him when the cut muscle and little bit of fat on his torso shine under the room’s low light. With the mask still on, and the dark fabric of his pants obscuring his bottom half, he makes quite the sight. The pale, wide expanse of his chest, only broken up by tattoos and healed, pink scars and sandy, blond chest hair makes your mouth water. He steps towards you, hooking the thumb under the mask and pulling it up. It feels as though the cloth is moving in slow motion, your heart beating loud and erratic with anticipation. When he stops so it rests on his nose, you exhale, not quite disappointed, but you sure as hell aren’t relieved. 

“Sex in a bed?” You question facetiously, willing your brain to revert back to being a little shit. You know he can’t stand when you're being a brat, it reminds him of just how easily he’d lost control, just how messily he’d fucked you the first time, but around Simon you just can't seem to stop yourself, “You're spoiling me.” You lay back on the bed as ordered, contorting your arms to shimmy out of your bra, then your bottoms, tugging your underwear along with them. Not a thong this time, a fact that seems to disappoint Simon when he notices your regular boyshort panties entangled in your discarded sweatpants. 

“Yeah, don't get used to it, I'm just tired of the smell of antiseptic.” He mutters, kicking your discarded clothes off to the side.

You snort derisively, spreading your legs so he can lay between them, allowing for him to brush the petal soft skin of his lips against your hip, your thigh, just above your knee. “Ladies and gentlemen, the last true romantic.” You mumble, patting the top of his head, lamenting your inability to card your fingers through his fine blonde hair. 

Your entire body jolts when his tongue comes in contact with your clit, a full body shiver alerting Ghost to just how badly you'd needed this. He hasn't shaved and his stubble scrapes the soft skin of your inner thighs, forcing a jolt up your spine, shuddering breaths escaping your lungs as his mouth gets better acquainted with the lips of your cunt. 

He drags his tongue over you in your entirety, taking special interest in the skin just below your entrance, he stays there, skimming, sucking, licking, until you're worried he'll manage to give you a hickey there, on your fucking taint. He has you dripping with his spit and your own slick, and the sound when he returns to your clit is obscene. He brings both hands up towards your abdomen, but neither continues the course to where you want them, on top of your chest, plucking at your nipples, or even around your throat, obstructing your airway. Instead, Simon's left hand pushes down on your abdomen, and his right gently shifts the hood of your clit up so he can abuse it better. 

All the soldiers in all the world and you had to hook up with the one who eats pussy like that?

"Fuck." You wince, and you twitch away from him as best you can, which only makes him suck harder, like he’s giving you ‘two for flinching’. You groan loud and unashamed, assured by the privacy afforded by not fucking on base for once. Your toes curl and relax over and over, the periodic tremble of your hips against his mouth has him holding you down as best he can, determined to pull more sounds from your wide open mouth. Your whole body tenses and you let out a litany of curses only disrupted by stutters of his name, all while you clench around nothing. He’s mumbling into you as you come, but whatever he’s saying ultimately doesn’t fucking matter when the vibrations of his voice make you want to cry or scream or kick Simon in his stupid masked face.

There's barely any hangtime between your orgasm shuttering through you and Simon circling his arms around your thighs before he tongue fucks you mercilessly, letting the tip of the muscle broach your entrance while he drags the edge of his teeth over the still buzzing flesh of your labia. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you onto his face, until you get with the program and begin rolling your hips, pressing your clit against the bridge and tip of his nose, allowing his tongue to push deeper within you. 

Your body is already dripping its satisfaction all over his chin, and this time with breath barely in your lungs it takes longer for him to get you into a place of desperation again. But by God, does Simon Riley get you there. This time he takes a break from the constant contact between your cunt and his tongue to slip one of his thumbs into your entrance, fucking you with slow and deliberate strokes, like a promise of what he’ll do to you later when he finally fucks you. Long, greedy swipes of his tongue jar your brain like a hit to the head. You try to struggle away, levering up with your arms before he tugs you down again like a fucking ragdoll, like you trying not to lose your fucking mind is a slight inconvenience to him. He lays wet, panting, open mouth kisses over the pulsing heat of your cunt, and when you you raise your head to - fuck you don’t know - curse his entire bloodline, you can see he’s helplessly grinding his hips into the mattress, seeking some sort of friction while he tongues at your folds, while you soak him to the knuckle. It’s hot, hotter than it has any right to be and you flop back down, turning your head into his pillow to muffle your moans. Old habits and all that. Unfortunately, the pillow is steeped in Simon’s scent, and your eyelids drift closed when you inhale deeply. Your breath stalls and you ride out yet another climax on his tongue, this time very grateful for the way he fingers you through it, even if his thumb isn’t nearly big enough. The bed beneath you bears the brunt of your orgasm this time, damp sheets attesting to your fervent enjoyment. 

“What a mess you’ve made.” He speaks, once you stop huffing, voice disturbingly even, like he didn’t just factory reset your body. Which is…incredibly irritating.

“You know technically as a doctor I outrank you.” You snip, nose in the air. 

“So?” He lifts his head, but his eyes are still locked between your legs, not quite able to decide if he wants to move from where he is so clearly comfortable.

“So…” you mock him, squeezing your thighs around his neck, until his stare is redirected to your face. “you should be fucking nice to me, asshole.” He digs his thumbs into the back of your knees, until you release him. Slowly, he drags himself up, over your body until he can lay on his back next to you. 

“You know, I really should have finished inside you that first time. Knocked you up and had you taken off base.” And wouldn’t that have been a fun conversation for you to have with your CO. ‘I’m so sorry ma’am, he wears a mask and has big hands and knows my kinks. I had no choice, ma’am.’

“Stop talking or I’m gonna sit on your dick.” You whisper, shutting your eyes against the harsh beam of the light overhead. Your heart rate is finally starting to settle, and you’re grateful for the moment of reprieve, the few moments he gives for you to stitch your mind back together, to regain purposeful use of the human language. 

Shoulder to shoulder in his bed, and no longer occupied with singing Simon’s praises, your mind begins to harmlessly wander, unhelpfully cataloguing that you aren’t even halfway through what he’s planned for you. You also start to filter through your responsibilities due in the coming days. It’s automatic at this point, a system you developed during school, when papers and projects and your social life all constantly contradicted each other. You’d come, at the hands of yourself or someone else, and your orgasm cleared brain began building a calendar. Nothing today, of course, you’d cleared your schedule and no one had questioned why. Most people wouldn’t question anyone taking off Valentines.

The “holiday” never really stuck out to you in the past, for one reason or another. Work, med school, family stuff, hell sometimes you just didn’t fucking feel like it. But this year, today, you can’t help yourself. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Simon.” You puff, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, letting your brain make patterns out of the popcorn ceiling.

“Ah,” he vocalizes, voice gruff. “Right.” he shifts in his bed, and you figure you’ve got about 30 seconds before he gives you the dusty combat boot. Your face burns with embarrassment, why the fuck did you say that? When did he ever give you even the slightest inclination he gave a shit about some overblown, capitalistic, aggrandized-

“Here.” A bag of jellybeans is unceremoniously plopped onto your bare chest, right between your tits. 

“Where were you hiding these?” You gawp, struggling to string together a sentence as you examine the bag of colourful candies. It has a bow on it. You finger the pre-tied ribbon, stuck on with an adhesive pad.

“Under the bed.” He grunts, rubbing at his eyes and the bridge of his nose, like he’s fending off a headache, but you think he may just be embarrassed, if the pink tips of his ears are anything to go by. 

“This is sweet.” You choke out, and you have to sink your teeth into your already swollen lower lip to stop from giggling hysterically. “Thank you, Simon.”

“Mng.” He makes the noise in his throat, forgoing the English language for the easy comfort of grunts, watching you tear the bag open and chew on a handful of the brightly coloured beans. All at once, like some kind of animal. The flavours don’t quite go together, strawberry and buttered popcorn and root beer. Others you can’t even begin to pin down. But you're too frazzled to eat them how you usually would, your favourites first, then making combinations with whatever’s left, guided by the suggestions on the back of the bag. And ultimately, it’s not altogether too unpleasant. It works, in a fucked up, saccharine sweet kind of way. Kind of like you and-

“Alright, put it away.” He rasps, turning over to cover you with his weight once more, sliding down to get started on orgasm three. 

He plucks the bag out of your hands and drops it on the nightstand near you, devoid of any knick knacks or photographs, just a beat up 70s style alarm clock that acts as a pedestal for your candy.

“My beans!” You shout, trying in vain to secure the confection for further enjoyment. You give up your fruitless endeavour when Simon sinks his teeth into the flesh of your breast on his way back down to your pussy. 

“I didn’t get you anything.” You moan, pressing the cool palms of your hands to your overheated face, soothing the mix of embarrassment and giddiness stirring in your mind.

“I’ll live.” He grouses, bending your knees, holding your thighs up and together with both palms at the back of your knees. You can’t see his face. Have never seen the whole thing, but you’d bet all the jellybeans in the fucking world, that Simon Riley’s cheeks are pink.

the beans were soap’s idea for sure. poor guy’s definitely heard them fucking more than once. support city girls, reblog what u like. happy valentines.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

RoR x Replacement Fighter Part 2

When the reader has healed, the gods/humans and the reader decide to get to know each other better. This can take place underneath a gazebo in the Valhalla Gardens, at a festival, in a gaming room, etc. As the reader was now wearing an all-black outfit that included a short-sleeve T shirt, pants, a chain necklace, and a stylish belt, their tattoos became pretty noticeable. Some of them blushed by the way the reader looked now. Others kept fidgeting because of it.

The reader's appearance :

They were amazed to find out that the reader was pretty young (around 20) and completed their education quite early. The reader also have the ability to speak in multiple languages (English, Burmese, Japanese, Korean, Thai, Laotian, etc.), which the gods/humans noticed as the reader was talking on their phone with their friends. Probably cussing out loud too.

The reader then invites the god/human to their apartment. The entire apartment was freezing cold and had dark neon green LED lights that were all stuck neatly on the walls. There were also traditional Burmese and Thai statues that were set up as decorations. Some of them noted the masks and puppets in a glass wardrobe near the furniture. There was also a large fish tank or aquarium in their apartment filled with Koi and Arapaima fish, which a few gods and humans went straight to observe.

The details of the apartment :

Some gods/humans did get a light hearted smack on the back of their head though. Either for trying to go inside the tank, for fooling around with the masks & puppets, for accusing the reader of being affiliated with the mafia, or because someone tried to smash up the serpent sculptures due to getting flashbacks from their previous battles. (Thor 💀)

Gods: Odin, Thor, Anubis, Susanoo, Loki, Apollo and Poseidon

Humans: Sasaki, Lubu, Tesla and Leonidas

-Today was the day that (Love) and several others were going to your place for the first time, after he and other fighters in Ragnarok had been begging to get to know you more, curious about you- they wanted to know as much as possible.

-Your house was in a quiet part of Valhalla and surprisingly looked relatively normal, nothing really out of the ordinary, at least on the outside of your house.

-When you answered the door, you looked a little disheveled, as if you had only just gotten up, your hair sticking up in random angles, baggy sweatpants, and a tight black tee-shirt on top, showing off the tattoos on your arms, which seemed a bit more vibrant today.

-Several, including (Love) flushed, you looked so alluring as you yawned, “Oh- was that today?” your sleepy voice was so alluring as you opened the door, welcoming them all in, as none of them made any mention that it was past noon and you had only just gotten up.

-As soon as they stepped inside, their jaws all dropped open, seeing that the vibe of your house didn’t fit the vibe of the outside of your house.

-It was dark, with bright neon lights and light strips everywhere, giving it a strange but ethereal vibe as Loki and Anubis gasped, running over to your massive fish tank that took up a whole wall in your living room, filled with koi fish and arowana fish, complete with more lights shining from the bottom.

-You scratched the back of your head, going towards your kitchen to start the coffee maker as many of the others were exploring the rest of your home, seeing the multitude of weapons, puppets, statues, and masks, all with labels next to them, hailing from Thailand and Burma.

-Apollo was fine, but others were quickly shivering as the sun god came over to you as you leaned against your kitchen counter, “Do you always keep your apartment so cold?”

-You looked over at him, an eyebrow lifting, “It’s cold in here?” several heads snapped over to you, how could you not tell that it was freezing in your own apartment?! You didn’t seem bothered, so you were obviously used to it.

-Poseidon and Nikola were looking at several diplomas on another wall, showing them the various institutes that you had gone to when you visited earth, showing them both, as well as the others, when Nikola came over to gush at you, that you were extremely smart.

-Nikola was like a hyperactive dog, not that you minded, as he asked what kind of languages that you spoke, as he had seen diplomas from all around the world!

-You counted on your finger, like you didn’t know exactly how many yourself, “English, Burmese…uhh Japanese and Korean- what else, oh Laotian, Thai, French… I think there’s more but…” you trailed off, not able to bring the names to mind at the moment but they were stunned to see you so well rounded!

-You were like a warrior scholar- they all knew you were a fierce warrior, and Lu Bu and Thor couldn’t help but feel a little antsy, seeing the variety of weapons you had in your place- you should know how to use all of these right? They wanted to fight you!!

-With the dark lighting, strange decorations and overall intimidating feel your place had, a few had to wonder if you were actually a dangerous person, as Loki popped up in front of you, “Are you part of the mafia?!”

-Instantly you were pinching his cheek, a slight scowl on your face as you sipped your coffee as he was begging you for mercy, much to the amusement of others.

-You didn’t mind them taking the masks off the wall, or picking up the weapons, as long as they didn’t break anything- you didn’t feel like you were in the mood for breaking any of them, and as long as they put things back, you didn’t mind them exploring your place.

-Had no idea you were such a well-rounded individual, you had it all, brains, strength, and good looks- you were the perfect package!! With each new thing that he discovered, he wanted to know more and more about you, as well as get closer to you- wanting you all to himself. However, he never did get an answer from you- are you part of the mafia?! He was determined to find out, but he didn’t want to risk you pinching his cheeks.

            -Apollo, Loki, and Anubis

-His eyes were full of delight, a smile on his lips as he turned towards you, fire burning within his very soul as you finished your coffee, putting the mug down, “Fight me Y/N!!” you blinked, turning back to him, a confused look on your face, “Why?” he faltered only for a moment, “Because that’s the best way for us to get to know each other!” You motioned over your shoulder with a thumb, “I don’t feel like it- want to play a board game instead?” Why were you so difficult sometimes?!

            -Thor, Susanoo, Lu Bu, and Leonidas

-Couldn’t help but admire your home, it was so unique, he found something new each time he looked, but unlike others who were taking things off the wall, he minded himself, just looking with his eyes. As he wandered, he kept finding more and more oddball things and he couldn’t help himself going over to you, “Why is your house filled with so many odd things?” you looked confused, as you didn’t see anything wrong with the way your house was decorated, “Odd? There’s nothing odd here- except you guys.” (Love’s) eyelid twitched lightly, you were such a thickheaded ding dong sometimes, but that was part of what made you cute.

-Odin, Poseidon, Kojiro, Nikola

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Kind Of Love You Only Find Once In A Lifetime - Steve Rogers x Reader (Prologue)

A/N: This whole fic is dedicated to the wonderful @anika-ann because she was the one who reblogged the wartime footage gifs that inspired all this and I promised I'd write it 😉

Summary: Tony finds some old war footage of Steve which features someone very special to him

Word Count: 892

Warnings: Angst! Flashbacks!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Masterlist

The Kind Of Love You Only Find Once In A Lifetime

Steve took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut as he waited for the most recent flashback to leave his mind, but it just seemed permanently seared in his brain, tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. Clenching his fists he threw his first punch at the bag, the satisfying crack making his eyes snap open as he continued to throw punches. Praying that with every punch the pain would just stop.

Steve had been living in this new modern world for just under a year now, his new friends had tried to help him adjust some more than others, but settled was not the word he would use. Frankly, he didn’t think he’d ever feel settled in this new life. How could he when everything and everyone he had was back in the forties?

With his last punch, he spotted a small droplet of blood running down the leather of the bag. He paused, brows furrowing as he watched the droplet work down the bag before dropping onto the floor. Looking down at his fists he saw the wrapping around his knuckles was soaked with blood.

He needed to stop, he knew that. He could practically hear that voice in his head, the one that he simultaneously wished would stop and never go away, telling him to stop. He gave into that voice, knowing it was right, it was always right. He stepped away from the bag and began to unwrap his hands, seeing just how damaged his knuckles were. They would heal up perfectly fine and quickly on their own but that voice told him to go clean them properly so he did.

As he made his way back to his room he heard the rest of the team talking in the cinema room, as well as a voice that did not belong to this time period. Curiosity got the better of him, as he walked in he instantly recognised the footage on the screen. It was all the old footage from his time in the war.

“Where- where did you get this?” he asks, clearing his throat when he feels it begin to break.

“Dad’s old archives, it proved useful in the past,” Tony says tapping his arc reactor “So I thought I’d go through everything else see if there was anything important” he explains “found all these old reels, some said unusable on them but I asked JARVIS to compile it all together and Ta-Da” he says gesturing to the large screen.

Steve just hummed with a small nod of his head as he stared up at the screen. His heart was pounding in his chest and his mind was telling him to leave, save himself the heartbreak. But his heart kept his feet firmly planted where he stood because only it knew the connection Steve had to this footage.

The first reel with the narration ended and there were a couple of seconds of a black screen before it came back to life with more footage of him. However this time almost every clip had him looking towards the camera. To begin with, it was only for a split second but over time the gazes became longer and a smile would form on his face.

“No wonder they couldn’t use this footage, Cap keeps looking into the camera! You’re breaking the number one rule!” Nat laughs shaking her head at him.

“I wasn’t” Steve mutters.

“Yeah you are look at you” Nat argues pointing up at the screen.

“I wasn’t looking at the camera” Steve states quietly, unable to say it any louder with the lump in his throat, looking down at the floor so they wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

When the screen went black again Steve cleared his throat and went to leave, he was by the door but he froze when he heard Clint say “Who’s the girl?”

Steve didn’t even need to look at the screen to know exactly what girl it was and it was not just some girl. It was the owner of the voice in his head that he couldn't help but listen to. His body operated on autopilot as he walked back into the room and looked back up at the screen.

His breath caught and the lump in his throat doubled in size. There was no sound but Steve could hear the laughter so clearly, there was no way Steve would ever forget that laugh. He had no clue this footage even existed, his heart ached as watched as the girl on the screen laughed and tried to push the camera away.

Eventually, the screen went black and remained that way but Steve could not take his eyes off the screen praying that it would restart and he could see it all over again.

“Who was that Steve?” Nat asked her voice softer than before.

“It… it uh was someone very special to me” Steve manages to say, he quickly sniffles before glancing back at Tony “Can um… is there a way I could have a copy?” he asks.

Tony shifted in his seat “Sure, JARVIS can you get on that?”

“Already did Sir” The AI responded.

“Thank you,” Steve said quietly before quickly turning to make his way back to his room so he could go rewatch the footage of you over and over again.

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!

Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to be kept up to date!

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | eight

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: blood, injuries, description of injuries, self harm, bad familiar relationships, PTSD

Nimue and Azriel had bid farewell to everyone else before heading towards the Spring Court.

They had left early in the morning, winnowing themselves to the forest right in front of Tamlin's mansion. There, Nimue had magically bypassed any possible guards that the High Lord or his cousins had placed in the territory, and they waited among the trees, among the bushes.

Beside her, Azriel had shed the calm demeanor the princess had known the night before. Now, with all senses alert, he was the master spy of the Night Court. Nimue, hidden from view with a simple spell, couldn't help but watch as the Shadowsinger blended into the shadows of the trees, sometimes glimpsing only his eyes.

"What's the plan?" Azriel asked. They were waiting, not knowing for what.

"I'll go in, convince them you were torturing me, play dead, and when they least expect it, I'll kill my cousins and Jurian. But first, I'll find out their plans; I'm good at listening behind walls."

Azriel frowned.

He wanted to trust her, to put all his blind faith in her plan. In his right hand, he felt the promise tattoo they made last night pulsing.

"Okay. Keep me informed; every night I'll visit you to hear what you've discovered. Even if you don't see me, rest assured I'll always be there covering your back," Azriel raised a hand from among the shadows and touched Nimue, his hand on the female's muscular shoulder. He felt a shiver run down his spine and immense heat under the glove, the princess's body radiating a warmth so familiar that it made Azriel's bones melt.

Nimue looked at him and with a quick movement, pulled him towards her, a superhuman force making Azriel almost lose his balance. She held onto him, an embrace meant to crush bones that Azriel gladly reciprocated.

They stayed like that for a couple of seconds or a couple of minutes, they weren't sure, sheltered in each other's warmth, in the calmness of the bond between them.

"Thank you for trusting me, Azriel."

Get her out of here. She's in danger, she's scared. We can't let her go with those people.

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the warnings of his own shadows, and took a step back, letting go of the female. He stayed there, hidden among the foliage shadows, and under his watchful gaze, Nimue raised a hand on which appeared a knife made of light.

What was she going to...?

Nimue grasped the handle of the knife made of her own magic, and began with her arms: from her wrists to her elbows, she made small but deep cuts from which blood soon began to flow, dripping onto the forest floor.

When the smell of her blood reached his palate, Azriel felt like he was going to vomit. All his senses focused solely on that, on the dripping blood, on how the female was cutting her own flesh. Something inside him, deep within his being, stirred.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" before he was even aware, he had already taken a step forward, grabbing Nimue's hands and pulling them apart, his gloves staining with the red fluid.

"They have to believe that you've hurt me, that you've tortured me and I've escaped. I'll say you drugged me with faebane and that in one of your oversights I managed to flee."

Nimue freed herself from Azriel's grasp, and continued with the task, this time she stabbed herself in her own thigh, staining her clothes with her own blood.

She felt her body starting to heal on its own, so with her magic she kept the wounds open and minimized the pain as much as possible to remain conscious even after losing so much blood. When she removed the knife from her thigh, she only felt a slight tingling.

Azriel felt like he was about to faint. All that blood, flowing in streams over Nimue's precious white skin, over the neat dress she wore and the undergrowth beneath her feet.

Nimue finally tore her clothes and made some final cuts on her face, and looked at Azriel.

Then she realized he was trembling, still as a statue and staring at her, his eyes wide. Around him, those shadows danced frantically from side to side, some bold enough to approach her and hover over her cuts.

"I'll be fine. Wish me luck, pretty face."

Azriel swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He had seen it all, dismembered soldiers and people torn apart. By the Mother, he had done worse things to many people.

But seeing her like this...

They exchanged one last look, and Nimue started walking away, leaving the shelter of the forest.

The sunlight blinded her and she had to squint. She had chosen the perfect moment, as she just saw her cousins cross the mansion door and start descending the stairs. Behind them, the hateful human and the High Lord.

She had to focus on the cuts, on keeping them open, on mitigating the pain. She limped, dragging her right leg, her shoes soaked with all the blood she was losing, and when she saw her cousins looking at her, she let herself fall to the ground.

She searched every small corner of her being, every bit of anger she had suppressed over the last month, and pulled and pulled. She pulled until she felt herself explode, and let herself go.

She began to cry loudly, pretending false relief, letting out sobs typical of someone truly escaping from torture. Although in reality, she was just going back to the torturers.

She feigned relief when her cousins ran towards her and crossed the distance separating them in record time. She feigned relief when she felt them kneel beside her, asking her questions, starting to heal her wounds with their magic. She feigned relief when, between sobs and fake complaints, she began to answer them.

"They tortured me," she said. She took a breath and let out another false sob, this time her gaze fixed on Tamlin and Lucien, who were approaching cautiously. "They drugged me with faebane and tortured me. They're monsters."

Her cousins comforted her and ran their hands over her body, covering the wounds with their hands and closing them with that black and rotten magic that gave Nimue chills.

They kept asking her things and she answered, with little detail and between sobs: they had skipped a dose of faebane and that's how she had managed to escape, they had asked her about the Cauldron and her father's army, they had hurt her so much...

Her cousins bought it the first time, trusting their little innocent cousin, the king's beloved jewel. What reasons would the little princess have to lie?

However, between tears, she could see that Jurian didn't quite believe her. It didn't matter; sooner or later, he would fall too. And if not, she would kill him before he opened his mouth.

When they had healed all her wounds and the tears subsided, her cousins lifted her from the grass and led her carefully into the mansion. The blind faith the twins had in her was impressive, for they had also learned to see her for what she was: the key that would lead them to win the war.

They crossed the gate of the house and reached the vestibule. Before the doors closed behind them, Nimue glanced back, towards the edges of the forest, and with some effort managed to spot him.

Azriel stood there, astonished, following every detail of the scene with his mouth open. It had been so, so easy. And Nimue was so, so good at pretending.

A small pang of suspicion made it hard for him to breathe, but he soon felt the warmth of the tattoo on his right hand, as a reminder that he should trust, that he should trust the princess.

He fixed his gaze on her, on the other side of that clearing and inside the mansion's vestibule, and even at all those meters away, Azriel glimpsed the small cruel and rotten smile that the princess directed at him.

Here Nimue's plan began. Like a slow-acting poison, she would ensure to indirectly harm her father so much that he would think twice about even looking in the direction of Prythian.

The doors finished closing, and she turned her gaze forward, to her cousins, to Tamlin and Jurian, who a few meters away from her were discussing something quietly. She looked around, at the beauty of the house that Feyre had described to her, which, although somewhat neglected, was still just as intoxicating, when she felt a presence behind him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the tan skin, the reddish hair. She didn't bother to turn around, but Lucien spoke low enough for none of those present to hear but her:

"You're not going to fool me, little princess," he whispered in her ear. Nimue turned slightly to look the male in the eyes. Amazed, she met the mechanical golden orb, while the other eye looked at her with suspicion and scrutiny. "I know no one forced you to escape from Hybern, I know what they're like in the Night Court. The others might not have noticed it, but the disgusting smell of the Shadowsinger was suffocating at the edge of the forest."

Nimue looked at him, a silly smile on her face.

"I like you, Lucien," she whispered back. She turned her gaze forward again, still feeling the male's presence behind her. "But I don't know what you're talking about."

Lucien growled and took a step back.

Nimue couldn't wipe the smile off her face. This was going to be fun.

She had spent the day testing the waters, tempting fate with innocent questions, silently observing how the relationship between the Spring Court and Hybern's people worked. She excused herself from dinner early, and under the watchful gaze of everyone present, she left the huge dining room.

As soon as she was out of sight, she ran through the hallways she had memorized all afternoon. She knew which corners to turn and which corridors to navigate, and she reached the door of what was her new room. When she entered, she closed the huge wooden door and covered all the walls with her magical guards: nothing and no one could see, hear, or feel what happened inside.

She smelled Azriel's scent in the room above the touches of roses and fruits, but still didn't feel his presence. She kept looking and inspecting the room from top to bottom, absorbing every detail, when she saw something on her bed: the same candies that Feyre had offered her in the Night Court.

Nimue felt her body vibrating with joy, feeling seen and loved. That someone, anyone, had thought of her and had managed to get those candies there.

She took the first one and brought it to her mouth, immersed in that intoxicating sensation that eating something so delicious produced in her, and didn't realize that Azriel was there, among the shadows cast by the moonlight in the room.

He simply remained silent, watching her in the midst of that raid she was carrying out on the candies he had left there, so she wouldn't forget. So she wouldn't forget that her place was in Velaris, with them.

With us.

"I'm glad you liked the surprise."

Nimue wasn't even surprised. She just kept enjoying the candies, glancing over her shoulder at Azriel.

"I knew deep down in your heart you'd end up caring for me."

She turned completely towards him, mouth full of sweets, hands sticky, and Azriel could swear he would die right there.

How could he not care for her, when there was something inside him that melted every time he looked in her direction, when their skins brushed against each other?

"How has your day been? Are you alright, have they done anything to you?" Azriel's voice tinged with concern did not go unnoticed by Nimue, who, smiling at him again, dropped onto the bed. She patted the space next to her on the adorned quilt, but the Shadowsinger stood in front of her, looking down at her.

"They haven't done anything to me, don't worry. They wouldn't dare because they know what I'm capable of, and they've played their part well."

Azriel frantically searched for any marks of the wounds and blood he had seen on the princess's skin, but found that the only scars there were the usual ones, those covering the fingers of her hands and caused by all the hours training with weapons. He felt something inside him click again, his most primitive instinct to protect her relaxing when he saw her whole and unharmed.

"Good. I'll pass on everything you tell me to Rhysand, and if you need anything just ask."

Nimue bit her tongue. She needed something, but she wasn't going to ask for it out loud. She wasn't going to ask Azriel to stay there that night, next to her. She wasn't going to tell him that being back with her psychopathic cousins had stirred something inside her, that putting on that mask of the evil princess had brought her back to her former life, where her stay in Velaris would have been nothing but a fever dream.

They looked at each other, in silence, and it seemed that Azriel understood what Nimue wanted to say, even without her uttering a word. He held her hands, which he hadn't let go of all that time, and knelt in front of the princess.

"I'll stay guard while you sleep," he whispered. Nimue swallowed the lump forming in her throat and prayed to the Cauldron not to start crying at that moment. "I'll make sure nothing happens and you won't be alone. You rest."

Nimue nodded and quickly got into bed under Azriel's watchful gaze, and as she drifted off to sleep, she whispered to him:

"In a couple of days, we'll be back in Velaris, and I'll make sure you show me the best bakeries in the city."

Azriel smiled tenderly, watching as Nimue drifted off to sleep, and stood guard until the sun was high in the sky.

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator @superspideyparker @bookwormysblog

[v1naco]

Okay hear me out

Simon Riley x reader but Venom AU.

Like Simon did go into the military but he left a couple years after when (I know this is not canon cause I love his family too much and my baby deserves happiness) his family gets attacked. They’re still alive (besides his father cause fuck that dude) but they got seriously injured.

The attack left him hurt mentally a lot and having to help them heal when he was struggling with his own things made it all worse. So when he went on a night walk he somehow comes across Venom and they bond(?I don’t know how to put it?).

Fast forward years later when his family is a lot better health wise, he uses catching bad guys and letting Venom eat most of them to blow off excess steam and as his therapy. He is out doing his regular shit eating bad guys and he comes across you getting robbed.

You just had a horrible day at work and just wanted to go home and sleep but this guy just had to choose you, a young woman a lone with her earbud(s) in and a backpack on her back walking past the opening of an alleyway at like 11pm.

You were too tired and smart to fight and decided to give the man what he wanted, money, but you only had $3.34 on you from tips and change. The man was pissed, but what is a woman in her last year of college supposed to have, a centurion card (Black Card)? You were living off of hard hours working in the restaurant industry and the scholarships you got to not go in dept after you graduate, even now. You were even an RA but tuition is still pricy.

Simon saw the squabble and knew you just needed some help, since the man just pulled a knife out, and you looked like you could just lay on the floor and sleep the next week away.

Simon (actually Venom) lands on the ground and politely, to the best of his abilities which is none, tells the man to hand back you your money and to walk away. The man argued saying he deserved it, you just wanted to walk away but as Venom took his first step out into the light the man grabs your arm and puts the knife to your neck.

Now you were not only pissed but scared, pissed that if this man slits your throat or puts you in the hospital it can ruin your chance at graduating, and after all those gruesome years of pain and suffering you did not want to redo a whole year. Scared because who wouldn’t be scared of a knife to your neck and the guy holding it looks like his off his rocker.

When you turned your head towards Simon, not only did he see the fear and anger in your eyes but he saw how beautiful you were, even as he could see the light sheen of sweat on you, your dirty hair, and the prominent eye bags you were carrying around, but he would call those bags gucci with how beautiful you looked still with no make up and the bad situation you got unlucky with.

When you saw him your eyes widened. Apparently the man had gotten more scared than you seeing the big black and dark gray mass. Shaped with a human complexion of a body but the head was obviously alien.

The man shoved the knife’s dull blade into your neck enough to draw a small line of blood. Though he didn’t get far enough to cut you deeper since Venom shot a tendril out and grabbed the mans arm. The man dropped the knife due to the pain radiating from his arm. Venom asked (really he threatened) the man to hand you back what he stole from you and he threw insults, calling you all sorts of names you wished to never be called by anyone.

Simon, and especially Venom, was in a happier mood today and would have let that man go with a very distinct warning, but those insults thrown at you slammed that “good day” door right on their faces. Simon believed that no words such as the ones he spoke, should be heard by your pretty ears, those pretty ears with all those pretty jewelry on every inch of them, dangling and reflecting the street and store lights off of the jewels.

Simon didn’t wish for you to see this next part but Venom liked your ear piercings and tattoos and was getting very cranky and wished to take a bite of that man’s head. Simon couldn’t stop Venom in time and the next thing you notice is the blood and the top part of the man’s cervical vertebrae sticking out.

You were a wide eyed doe right then and there. With your hand on your mouth not trying to breath anything around you in. Venom then turns and asks if you’re alright. He was sorry you had to see it, you just nodded and continued to look at the body, slowly and weirdly getting used to it the more you stared at it. You believe you should take a break from all those movies and shows that has a lot of gore in it, believing that your reaction to this situation is not normal.

With how you reacted, and noticing you not shaking much at all anymore, Venom strikes up a conversation with you, much to Simon’s protest. He noticed the accent and figures out that you are not originally from the area, definitely from a different country. As seconds pass, Venom and Simon like you more and more. Asking to walk you home to make sure you are okay, Venom changes back to Simon and he walks you home. You’re much too surprised and still very much so tired and don’t try to fight him on his request to walk you home. But you enjoy the silence between you both, it was calming and you didn’t need to listen to music to fill that silence for once.

When he reached your home he wished you a safe and well night. You stop him real quickly, asking if you could do anything for him to repay him for helping you. He said he didn’t need anything from you. Just as he was turning to walk away you ask to at least cook him a mean sometime, him AND Venom of course, remembering that Venom said that that man’s head was not tasty and he was still hungry.

Simon did not wish to bring you into his pain filled life, but he wished to be selfish for once for his own happiness and with that Simon agrees. He walks away with one lesser bad guy on the streets and with a new number in his contacts, ready to set up a dinner with the woman he knew would later marry.

Anyway thats my little thought of a Simon Riley Venom AU. I did’t specify an age of the reader cause people are different ages during their college/university years and some people go to school for more than the regular 2-4 years. But I was thinking Simon would be about around 25 while the reader is around 22/23 but can be older, maybe even 21 if you want her to be, but nothing under cause those specific age gaps weird me out.

I also did not specify his and her appearance or what she wears bc I don’t really care but if I did I would say more so jeans, converse, and t-shirt with maybe a zip up type style. I do love a girly with many piercings and tattoos though so I wanted to put it in there.

Anyway…sorry Im a d1 yapper😔. I just thought a simon+venom au would be perfect and he would fit the role of Eddie so well. Especially with the motorcycle ugh creaming rn😩. Ehem. Do with this how you want but I do hope that if you do use this please tag me. Maybe give me credits for this idea since I have not found anything like this anywhere if you want. But yeah if someone writes this PLEASE TAG ME. I write for shit so I definitely am not.

[daughter-lilith]

✧When Two Seas Collide✧

"Sometimes it is difficult to love you."- Halsin

Halsin x Fem!OC | Part 2 of 2 | Part 1 here

Explicit 18+ Word Count: 8.1k CW: Conflicting feelings, love/hate, angst, manipulation, bad habits, mood swings, p in v sex, rough sex, vengeful sex?

Bare feet sauntered through tall grass as Ro made her trek deeper into the forest. With a little help from some brief misty steps, she was able to phase in and out, covering a good distance since she left from the edge of town. Lifting her chin towards the sky, she could see the impending storm gliding its way over, the rays of the sinking sun struggling to pierce through. A distant rumble of thunder met her ears – it was still some minutes away. But it mattered not, for it was the sound of steady flowing water that drew her attention more. It was exactly what she came for.

As the tall grass receded into a flatter bed, the charming waterfall came into view. The waters cascaded down the rocky wall, into a large, natural pond, much calmer and soothing compared to the greater falls on the other side of the forest that raged into a river. The pond, normally a bright cerulean, was a darker, almost gray-blue, most certainly due to the thickening clouds. Nevertheless, a smile touched her lips as she admired nature’s creation while she untied her cloak and let it fall to the ground. Storm or not, she wouldn’t be dry for much longer anyway.

She strolled across smooth grass that gradually transitioned into dark earth. Donned in a thin, white gown, she stepped into the pond, sighing as she moved deeper. It was cool to the touch, but not so much that it made her flinch or shiver upon entering. She waded towards the middle, where the pond was at its deepest, and rotated her body so she was calmly floating on her back.

Staring at the clouds, an array of white that bled into light and dark grays, her mind wandered where she so freely allowed it to. The large elf materialized in her vision, his focused, mesmerizing gaze when she told him about her little adventure. A spark tickled her belly at the memory. There was no change in him. No new scars, no new tattoos, his physique as taut and hulking as she last remembered, and she reveled in it.

He was so careful in healing her, how expertly his powerful arms and magic handled her with such care. The same arms that brutally destroyed that monstrosity not long before. Well, it was the bear’s brute strength mostly, but he was still Halsin. And the warmth his large body exuded felt the same, he even smelt the same, and oh how she longed to be wrapped up in that warmth again.

But he deserved more first. Halsin deserved to know that she had been thinking about him dearly. She frowned slightly as a single droplet fell from the sky, onto her cheek. Halsin had rejected her. She saw it in his eyes, in the way he rose to his feet and away from her. Not as her lover, but with the essence of the once commanding Archdruid. “Does he still love me?” she muttered quietly, asking no one in particular, except for perhaps nature itself. But only the constant, sloshing sounds of the waterfall seemed to answer.

He must, he has to. She closed her eyes, her arms occasionally dipping below the surface and back up again. Did she push him too far? Did she tug on the leash too strongly, forgetting to leave some wiggle room for pleasure? Had she lost all of his devotion in just a mere year?

She loved him, and she knew sometimes she could be… challenging, but it wasn’t on purpose. Not usually, anyway…

There was a tiny part of her that did secretly enjoy the occasional conflict; the tension, the frustration, the chase when she set out to explore, and most of all…she relished in the making up. Halsin had the appearance of such an imposing man, and yet several times she had witnessed him melting into a pool of pudding for her, no matter how upset he might have been beforehand. To watch the druid’s face transform from anger to yearning – threatening to sever ties but then pulling her back into his powerful embrace…

But Halsin did not embrace her this time. He did not chase – rather, he pushed her away and ran. She was no fool, she knew he spent the day purposely avoiding her presence. If he was not ready to talk, she could wait. And she would return to their home tonight, regardless of his belief that they no longer shared it together.

No, she still had him. Old fights were no matter to the present. Halsin was her favorite, and she knew she was his. No amount of roaming could compare to what he did to her, how he invigorated her. A closed grin pulled at her lips, he knew her body so well. Better than anyone.

She just needed a little time to remind him of what they had, the power in their union, the heights that only they could take each other to. Just a little bit of time to— her eyes blinked open as a new feeling penetrated the air, quiet and exploring. An electric nerve dashed across her stomach as she continued to float over the surface. But it was not fear that gripped her, it was excitement. A presence lingered, a beast, somewhere in the tall grass perhaps, or behind the thick trunk of the trees. A presence familiar, their essence unforgettable.

Ro was not a druid herself, but her elven senses were still sharp. And with the innate magic that buzzed inside her core, it only made them even sharper. She knew it was him. Halsin.

Mine.

But he did not come as the man. She could smell the change in his body, the thick musk that swirled in the air, heightened by the rising humidity. It was the bear that crouched just beyond the trees, observing her. It was not the first time she’d felt him watching her from a distance, in his bear form, but it was never in secret, not like this.

An almost giddiness fluttered over her torso, and she had to restrain the urge to smile. Of course he came to check on her, because he still cared. She knew he still cared. A wicked thought suddenly breached her mind – she wanted to test the reach of his concerns. Maybe if she could feign danger... Her heart spiked at the thought, nerves firing in her stomach. Another droplet fell on her cheek, then another on her forehead.

She was a great swimmer, so she would need a little aid to make this more convincing. Remembering a spell she learned during her time away, she ever-so quietly whispered the incantation, “altum spiritum” and inhaled a deep breath, careful not to make it so glaringly obvious what she was doing. Immediately, she felt a cool, tingling sensation fill her lungs as she closed her eyes and waved both arms in a sweeping upward arc, submerging her entire body beneath the surface. Instantly, the muffled sounds of the waterfall echoed in her ears, a soothing, rhythmic song.

The first minute was easy for her, it always was, spell or no. Then a minute and a half passed…then two, still her lungs were at rest, her body calm, as they’d usually be. But her heart was thundering, the anticipation never waning as she kept herself submerged, her limbs lazily swaying. Three minutes… four— a force ricochetted into her side as large paws wrapped around her waist and legs, yanking her body, claws slightly pressing into her flesh.

When she breached the surface, a golden light flashed then dimmed, and smoother arms carried her as strong legs rushed to land. Ro looked up at the mask of horror reflected in Halsin’s eyes, his hair wet and sticking to his cheeks and shoulders. Her heart beamed at the worry across his face, and this close to his chest, she could practically feel the pounding of his heart.

Halsin’s large strides had them out of the pond and back to land in record time. He sat her down on the warm earth, gently but swiftly, already bending towards her to check for her well-being.

“What were you doing, Ro?” The urgency in his voice rumbled towards her, deep and electric. “You were under for so long! You- were you—?” A blue light was already radiating from his hands, fingers twitching with where to focus it.

“What? No, silly.” Ro fell into a light chuckle, her words calm and reassuring. She reached forward, pressing her palm against the hard swell of his bare chest. His heart was battering beneath strong pecs and it sent a rush of excitement through her belly. “I was just enjoying the waters, love. I’m okay, I promise. But I can see how it may have looked otherwise...”

Halsin regarded her, pursing his lips as if to catch some sort of concealed confliction. After another moment, he recalled his magic, and the ethereal blue light faded into the wind.

But Ro noticed the tide of emotions circulating behind his focused eyes. She noticed the slight breath he quivered as she glided her hand down his chest, just a bit.

“But at least if I was in danger, it wouldn’t have been for long. Not when you’re around.” She tilted her head, smiling as her eyes passed between his, warm and inviting.

“Are you sure?” he inquired, his tone vibrating against her hand. It took all her strength not to bite her lip.

“Yes, I’m sure… So can I stand up now?” She made a knowing tilt to their current position, how he was half hovering over her, blocking her legs from shifting.

Halsin blinked, like he was stirring from a trance, and moved to the side. With one hand on her back and the other in her grasp, he aided her to her feet and then took a step back.

“But thank you anyway,” she said, a contented sigh flowing from her mouth.

Halsin does not respond to her directly, instead, he inclined his head, eyes raking the sky. “We are too exposed where we stand. The storm will rage soon, we should return to cover.”

Ro smiled coyly, glancing down at herself. “I don’t mind the storm, seeing as I’m…already wet.”

Halsin’s breath hitched, an involuntary shudder as he truly took her in. His pulse quickened as his eyes roved down her body, how her long dress clung to her, damp and soaked. Her hair partially stuck to her skin, shriveling in loose curls. And her nipples pushed against the tight, wet fabric, the roundness of her breasts so visible beneath. She was completely bare under the white piece of clothing, a simple barrier that could be easily discarded.

Jaw clenched, he attempted to avert his gaze to anywhere but her body, but he could not resist the pull to roam his eyes down her figure, tracing every dip, every clinch where the fabric stuck tighter. Her taut nipples nearly calling out to him – to touch, to taste...

He grimaced, his thoughts were swirling, body filling with heat. It was her voice that pulled his attention back to her eyes – when did she get so close?

“And from the looks of it, you’re just as soaked as I, Archdruid.” Her serene voice dropped an octave when she called him by that title, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Halsin stared down at her, a stern expression in his bright eyes, a new resolve thickening. A low rumble from the skies vibrated the ground beneath their feet. “It changes nothing. Come.” His instruction was simple, impersonal. He shifted one leg as though to turn but was paused by her words again.

“It changes everything,” she said, a confident gleam in her eyes. Halsin furrowed a brow as she continued. “We’re already prepared for the rains. Nature wants this, does it not?” As though responding to her, a steady stream of scattered raindrops dripped all around them, teasing what was to come.

His broad chest expanded, breathing deep as he clenched his teeth. A shudder skipped down his back as she took another step closer to him. Her eyelashes were wet, eyeliner slightly running down her cheeks, almost in a similar way it would when she’d take him inside of her—

Halsin squeezed a fist, veins protruding as his face twisted into a firm determination, glaring down at her.

“I will not force you, so I will leave you to it then. As long I know you are well.” He held her gaze for another moment longer, chest strong and steady as she stared up at him, silently pondering. But he said all that was needed. She was safe, and if she did not wish to follow, then his business there was finished.

Halsin severed their visual connection and fully turned to leave. He made it a few strides away, almost reaching the long grass when Ro’s voice pierced his ears once more.

“It wasn’t a purchase,” she called to him, her tone edging over a subtle desperation. She let out a soft breath as she watched Halsin pause, the muscles in his bare back tight and sculpted. His high-waisted, auburn pants wrapped snuggly around his thick thighs, but his legs angled like they were ready to continue their stride at any moment.

Her heart sprinted at the sight. How he was not among the gods themselves, perhaps surpassing them all, would forever be a mystery to her. But right now, she needed to act.

“It was truly just a gift, Halsin. I thought of you often and wanted to give you something nice. You deserved something nice…” She stepped cautiously over the soft ground that shifted into short blades of grass. More droplets trickled on her hair, some falling on her face.

She observed his posture carefully, her heart racing. He was almost as still as a statue, save for the purposeful movements of his shoulders rising and falling slightly. She knew every breath he took was sure and measured as she continued her tentative approach.

“But I wouldn’t have been opposed if it led to a conversation or two… maybe we can still have it now? I don’t like how last night ended,” she sighed, her pitch lowering almost into a whisper. “I truly missed you, Halsin.” There was a sincereness in her voice. Despite their sour parting, her time away, she truly missed her druid.

She gently placed the palm of her hand near the middle of his back, hoping to stoke some sort of reaction, anything.

A rough breath juddered out of his mouth and he tilted his head to look over his shoulder, catching her already looking at him. “Now? You wish to converse now?”

“If you’d like to… or perhaps we can save that for afterwards…”

Halsin rotated his body fully, the movement causing her hand to fall away as he faced her once again “Afterwards?”

She bit her lip, reaching up to rest her palm against one of his pecs. He was so warm, tough, as the strands of his chest hair started to slick from the steady trickle of droplets from the sky. The desire to curve her hand and dig her nails into his skin, eliciting a deep groan from his throat, flashed in her mind. It was so incredibly tempting. But she would be patient.

When she roamed her eyes to meet his again, her gaze was sure and confident, burning with a flowering want. It was time to reclaim what was hers, now or never. “Stay with me. Stay and let nature have its way with us, in whatever way it wants.“

Halsin’s entire body tensed as an icy fire burned through him, both hot and cold, igniting something new. His irises flashed gold which only seemed to tantalize her further. “Ro,” he warned, a strained noise falling from his parted lips.

Ro, feeling a surge of confidence mixing with an electric arousal, stepped even closer. Their eyes never left each other as she carefully eliminated all space between them. His breathing came out quick and harsh, like he was trying but failing to calm himself. Her other hand came to rest on his cheek, thumb stroking gently beneath his eye. She leaned up on her toes, gently tilting Halsin’s head towards her, just enough to place a tentative kiss on the scars on his chin.

Her eyes flicked up to him, dark and lingering as he watched her, unmoving. She stared deep into him, noting the dilation of his pupils, but he still did not move. So, she waited, searching for any hint of an intended reaction while pulling back, lowering herself on the flat of her feet.

“I still want this. I want you.” So soft and melodic her voice was, painted with a swelling desire that could not be hidden. She held his gaze, biting her lips before speaking again. “Do you still want this?”

Halsin does not respond, his stance still, expression unreadable. But his eyes were boring into hers, and there was a slight twitch in his jaw as his teeth clamped together. But silence hovered between the pair, save for the calming noise of the flowing waterfall behind her and the scatters of gentle rain landing atop the pond, the leaves, and the trees.

Her heart felt like it was going to shrivel and curl into itself, a wave of defeat stalking behind the door into her mind. Maybe she had lost him… Maybe she had tested him too much. More raindrops fell, touching her face and sliding down her cheeks.

Ro reluctantly removed her hand from his chest. She was about to step away entirely when a strong hand grasped her wrist. Halsin’s eyes burned a dim gold as his other arm came around her waist. A slight yelp escaped her throat as he yanked her towards him, pressing her against his body, leaving just enough room to speak. Her heart raced at the sudden movement, the strength of him squeezing the breath out of her.

“Nature can have us,” Halsin murmured, terse, his breath warm against her face. Then he dipped his face a hair’s breadth away from her lips, nearly overwhelming her with his mass and closeness. The rim of his eyes glimmered, and when he spoke, his voice dropped, thick and commanding. “And I will have you.” He released the hold on her back and used both of his hands to hands to grip the top of her dress. “I will have you in the way that I want.” With uncanny speed and incredible force, he ripped the fabric clean down the middle, exposing her breasts and stomach to him.

A deep groan of appreciation hummed from his mouth as he took in the wondrous sight before him. He pulled more of her dress, hastily dragging it down the length of her body until she could swiftly step out of it, naked and bare against him. He tugged her back him, his lips crashing over hers to the clasp of thunder overhead. He swallowed her moan as soon as it left her lips as his slippery fingers dug into the cheeks of her backside, pressing her into him as much as he was able. Her lower stomach rubbed against the strain in his pants as hot blood rushed through his body, feeding his hardening desire. He groaned at the feel of her needy, desperate hands, scratching haphazardly up and down his back. His tongue wiggled inside her mouth, tasting her sweet tongue that mingled with the taste of the rain pouring over and between them.

Ro felt consumed with a flourish of desire, her core throbbing with the need to be touched as Halsin’s large hands clenched her tightly. His kiss was wild, passionate, teeth clashing as their faces tilted from one side to the other, a desperate dance to consume each other.

She could feel the heaviness of his breathing, hear the weight of his urgency above the pouring rain, its pressure increasing. She yelped as a sudden sting darted up her center as Halsin’s finger plunged within her without warning. He groaned into her mouth, the intensity of his kiss never wavering. But her mouth was stumbling, struggling to maintain the rhythm while his finger pumped inside her. She moaned against his lips as the pain soon mingled into a rush of bliss, her legs already beginning to quake as tingles of pleasure and pain sparkled down her legs when he added a second digit.

This time she broke the kiss entirely, burrowing her face in his chest, needing something steady to hold on to. But Halsin seemed to have other plans as a firm grip tugged at her hair, pulling her back and exposing her neck and chest to him. Ro gasped, closing her eyes as the rain spilled down her face, mixing with the wetness of Halsin’s tongue that dragged down the column of her neck before he used his teeth to scrape down her flesh. She winced slightly as it both tickled and stunned her, it was like his canines were trying to slice into her skin as he raked his way down her towards her chest.

The pressure in her scalp softened as he released the hold on her hair, returning that hand to the center of her back while the other continued to explore her heat, so wet and tight around his fingers.

Her soft whine was swallowed by the rain as his mouth closed on her taut nipple. Only then did the speed of his thrusting fingers waver as he sucked and swirled his tongue around the tender spot. A prickle of pain drew another gasp from her lips as he nipped down on her nipple, only to immediately soothe it with the warm, flat of his tongue.

“Release me,” she heard him say through the rain, the vigor of his voice vibrating against her.

She lowered her head to look at him still tasting her. Her lips parted as though to question what he meant, but her voice felt so far away, nearly all thoughts focused on the shrills of pleasure his fingers still wrung through her. As though sensing her turmoil, Halsin ground himself against her, letting her feel the strict swell confined in his trousers.

Without a word, her near-trembling fingers worked quickly at his buttons, popping them apart until his pants were loose enough to start tugging them down. Instantly, he sprang forth, bumping against her hands, so thick and ready. She tugged around the edges of his hips and dragged his trousers further down his thighs.

A heady groan rumbled up the column of his throat as his hips thrusted forward, sliding himself along her wet stomach. With both hands, she wrapped around his shaft, already so slick as her thumb ran over his leaking tip, made even more slippery from the rain. He ground his hips forward, moving into the rhythm of her stroking hands. Try as she might to maintain a firm hold, her palms started to slack as Halsin’s fingers resumed their hasty pace inside her soaked walls.

Legs quivering, another brief spark of pain shot down her stomach as Halsin bit her other swollen nipple before swirling his tongue around it. A rising pressure boiled inside her core, heightening in pace with his expert fingers. Her hands all but fell from Halsin’s weighty cock, her thoughts incoherent as she tried to steady herself. A simmering growl erupted from his throat, tinged with displeasure as he ground his hips against her again, seeking her touch.

Halsin’s blood throbbed through him, filling and tightening him to almost a painful swell. He ached to feel her touch again, to have her smaller hands stroke and pump him with abandon, but they fell away from him as her rushed moans echoed above the rain. She was starting to squeeze around his fingers, writhing in his strong hold as her legs threatened to fail her.

His name was a pleasurable sigh on her lips, and he knew she was close – he could feel it, could almost smell it. So he curved his fingers, alternating and circling them inside her spongy wetness. His mouth released the clamp on her wet breast, and he stood taller to look at her as his hand continued to work. He especially loved the hasty gasp she made as his thumb came to rub over her sensitive clit.

His mouth hung open as he watched her, eyes closed and lips parted with desperate breaths as the rain dripped down her lips. She was an invigorating sight, so easily succumbing to him, so beautiful and tight for him. His heart swelled with devotion, his body burned with lust, and his brain… his brain was foggy, dazed, submitting to the desires the other parts of him craved.

Another constriction around his fingers, tighter than before. Halsin smirked, wicked and sly. Another few pumps, as fast as his fingers would allow without cramping, and he ejected them with an abrupt pop. A sharp gasp flung from her lips, her face scrunching into a confusing frown as her hazy eyes met him.

His heart thundered behind the large confines of his chest, stimulated by the lustful and lost look in her mesmerizing eyes. If she would not touch him – if she would not stroke him until he was spilling into her hands – then he would deny her this release. They shared another lingering stare as a fleet of emotions passed over her eyes, her makeup completely streaked and coating her cheeks.

Ro’s legs shuddered under her weight and her core throbbed endlessly, an intense pressure that ached to be satiated, to be relieved from the fires that coursed through her. But she felt cold and left wanting as Halsin, whose other hand still steadied her, stared at her with a dangerous look in his eyes. She watched him drag his tight pants down the rest of the legs before he slowly stepped out of them, never taking his eyes off her as he stood completely bare, bold, and proud.

The lovely lines on his face indented as his smile curved into a mischievous look. Confusion furrowed in her brows. What was he— her thoughts were interrupted as Halsin enveloped her in his arms, lifting her off her feet. With more speed and finesse than one would expect from a bear of a man, a coolness hit her back as he laid her flat on top of the wet grass.

Halsin rose on his knees as he looked down at her, his chest moving slowly, muscles tight and flexed, chest hairs clinging damply to his skin. It was a little difficult for Ro to stare at him through the thrashing rain, unrelenting as it poured over them. But she had no trouble seeing the golden radiance in his eyes, even brighter as daylight began to wane. His gaze was starved and almost… enraged?

His eyes bored into hers like she was the source of his vengeance, the final obstacle he’d come to slay. In the distance, high above him, a bright flash flared across the skies followed by the bellowing clap of thunder. The way he looked at her was foreign and new, his normal tenderness and care all but gone. A new passion burned within his eyes, bitter and powerful. Her heart jumped – quickening, a sudden urge to crawl away from him. It frightened her.

Then a spark ran down her belly, and her heart leaped again as her breathing steadily quickened. It excited her. Without thinking, her legs acted for her, spreading for him, an open invitation.

“Halsin,” she muttered, her lips wet and plump.

Halsin did not hear his name fall from her lips, as nature was louder than her soft voice, but he was able to read it. A balanced chuckle rumbled out of his mouth, dark and sensual as he watched her open for him. So willing, so eager.

She followed his eyes that trailed languidly down her body, resting over the area that was still throbbing and soaking for him. He bent over her, the mass of his body completely shielding her from the now relentless rain. It was like the clouds had never moved once they settled above them, content with showering the couple as though nature itself desired it.

Halsin lowered even closer, and she could feel his warm breath kissing her face, his lips so teasingly close to hers. Never did his eyes shift away from hers as he did this. And from this closeness, lost in the intensity of his stare, it looked like the glow in his eyes was moving – shimmering with a magical radiance around his irises, again and again. It was enthralling, and it only encouraged her desires, her belly fluttering in anticipation. A soft moan sang from her lips as the weight of his cock rested upon her, sliding over her most sensitive spot.

Halsin smiled, his lips ghosting over hers, so tormentingly close. She needed to taste those lips again, to lose her breath in his kiss. On instinct, she lifted her head towards him but he pulled back in response, to her frustration. But his mischievous smile never waned, and before she could verbally protest, a tingle drizzled up her thigh as his large, calloused hand glided up her wet skin. She let her head rest back on the grass, eagerly waiting for him to spread her legs wider. He lowered himself back over her face, a featherlight touch as he spoke against her lips.

“I told you,” Halsin muttered low and heavy, in tune with the rumbling in the skies. “In the way that I want.”

Another thrilling flicker of fear and excitement sparked in her gut as his words shuddered down her neck. A final smile from the druid’s lips, his large hand gripped her fiercely and with casual strength and speed, she was flipped over on her stomach. Immediately, she felt swallowed by the powerful mass above her, already pressing himself over her back, forearms resting near her sides. She was practically tasting the grass were it not for the hint of room he gave her to turn her head if she needed to.

“My darling heart…” his breath tickled her ear, warm and stimulating. “I hope you are ready for me.”

A loud cry, in time with the thunder, escaped her throat. Halsin shoved the full length of his cock in the tight, spongy space of her walls. He buried himself inside her immediately, leaving no chance for her to adapt to the stretch as a sting spiked up her back. His fingers that worked at her earlier had just barely prepared her, but it was not enough. Her nails dug into the grass, grabbing fistfuls of wet earth as she felt the girth of him widening her in one thrust. She felt him settle inside her for only a moment, before he withdrew just to the tip, then pounded back into her again.

Her entire body shuddered, breasts pressed against the grass, breath coming in quick pants as Halsin continued to repeat the dance of pulling out almost entirely, only to fill her in a single stroke. Each time, a fire of pain flamed up her core as she struggled to adjust. His movements were punishing, his weight nearly crushing were it not for his elbows keeping him from smothering her entirely. The weight of his balls smacked against her as his thrusts increased in speed. Deep, animalistic grunts filled her ear as his breath coasted down the side of her face.

In time, the firing pain mingled with waves of new pleasure as he moved against her, never wavering, never giving her time. A surge of sensations flooded her body all at once as it awakened to frosty heights of delight where pain still lingered close behind, as though it never wanted to let go. Ro’s moans mingled with the rushing rains, enticing her to take it and to take it well.

Halsin had never been this way with her. They’ve had rough moments, both with and without Wild Shape, but there was always enough preparation. Halsin was a master in foreplay, in taking his time to work his lover up enough to be ready for more. He loved exploring Ro’s body, over and over again, testing how many different pitches of her moans he could elicit from those tender lips. Then he’d make gentle, passionate love to her, for as long as their bodies would allow it. And if she wanted it faster, harder, he’d grant her the wish because he knew she was as ready as she’d ever be.

Today was different. Too much had been festering inside of Halsin over the past year. An underlying rage and frustration that had been left to simmer and then smothered before it could reach its boiling point. Each thrust of his hips came with the power of vengeance. Each digging grip on her thighs, with the intent to bruise, was a testament to the sorrow she’d leave behind every time she abandoned him. And now, as he drilled into her with near abandon, his body sliding over her wet back with ease, it delighted his heart.

He knew from the sounds of her cries, the way her knuckles gripped the grass so fiercely that it was too much at once. That the pain was not fully giving in to the pleasure. And yet, she never told him to stop, she never begged him to release her, for he would do so in a heartbeat if she did. But gods he hoped she wouldn’t. He needed to have her like this. He deserved it. She deserved it.

And she felt amazing around him, still so tight, so moist. Had she not taken another since their parting? If she had, they did a poor job of preparing her for him. But it did not matter, for she was finally home now. And he would resume that place in her life, he would do what he knew others could not.

The rain continued its assault as he could barely make out the desperate calls of his name. She was starting to enjoy it; he could feel it in her moans, in her trembling body. Pride swelled within him… but so did a hint of ire. Did she deserve to enjoy this as much as he did?

“Why, Ro?” his breath was ragged, voice hoarse and deep as he pounded without rest. “Why do you make it difficult to love you?”

She uttered a strained whine in response, each thrust of his hips siphoning more mewls and incoherent curses from her lips. He could feel the bear within pacing, growling, frustrated for not having an answer. So in response, Halsin leaned upright on his knees and hoisted her hips up with him. Half off the ground, she was forced to rest on her forearms and knees while her back made a slight arch.

A new sound dripped from her lips as Halsin drilled into her saturated walls, finding himself burrowing even deeper from the new angle. He knew he was reaching the depths of her limits, poking against the edge of all she could take.

He grabbed a fistful of her soaked hair, pulling her back slightly, the other hand gripping her hip. Wet flesh rammed into wet flesh as he gave her all she could handle, completely at his mercy. But still, she never told him to stop, never called for a surrender as her hands tore into the wet grass.

Halsin felt consumed by a flood of emotions and sensations: frustration, rage, lust, mesmerized by the sight of his thick cock crudely disappearing inside her over and over. And he reveled in every whimper, every grip and squeeze as she needily swallowed him back in. And he hated how much he loved it, how much his body burned even more for her even as he was already taking her.

His emotions bubbled to the surface, rising up his throat and landing roughly on his tongue. “Do you love me?” he questioned, hoarse, hips never slowing.

“Uhn,” she whimpered, unable to speak.

He growled, his blood burning. “Do. You. Love. Me?” he asked again, his demanding tone palpable.

“Yes,” was all she could muster, breathing heavily below him.

Echoing booms bellowed above the coupling pair. “Let me hear you say it,” he commanded, his foreboding voice cutting through the pounding rain. But she was too busy keening and sighing, lost in the sensations where their bodies met. “Say it.” A rough slam into her followed his demand.

“I love you! Oh gods, I love you!”

Halsin’s breathing quickened at her loud declaration, his glutes flexing as he drilled into his lover, his heart. Crackling, blue light filled his vision as he watched electric sparks dance over Ro’s fists, flickering up her arms. He grinned – so true pleasure had found her at last.

Her wild magic illuminated her hands, soaring erratically up her arms as she moaned and cried his name. He felt the glimmer in his eyes brightening at the sight, a surge of fire hotter than the hells burning through his veins. Drawn by the electric charges dancing across her wet skin, he released his hold on her hair and hips then clasped both of his hands over her fists. His entire body jolted, head tossing back into the rain as his abdomen flexed and his cock twitched.

Her magic surged throughout his body, launching through his nerves and flexing his muscles. The bear within roared, invigorated by the new energy. It instantly expended some of its own power to mingle with hers as it thundered its way back into her.

“Gods—Halsin—I—” her voice wavered, fingers starting to cramp from her enduring grip.

Ro’s heart pounded, her arms alight with electric charges that sparked down her back and legs. Insurmountable bouts of pleasure rippled through her as she held on to the ruthless thrust of Halsin crashing into her like wild waves against rock. He never slowed, never gave her any chance of reprieve. She could hardly handle him at this pace, at these depths, and despite the stalking pain that never fully went away, it felt euphoric.

Halsin powered through the chaos of her magic, bending his front back down on her, his thrusts unrelenting. His nails started to extend into claws and a deep, rumbling growl crawled up his throat. But the full might of the bear remained caged, it would have its turn another time.

He felt himself swelling more, throbbing as he started to chase his peak. She clenched around him, her legs quivering on unstable knees. He growled into her ear, low and guttural.

“No more leaving,” he demanded. One of his hands moved to her thigh, and he let his claws dig.

She hissed at the sudden puncture, the pain mingling with the charges firing throughout her body. Halsin said something, she thought. Or was it the bear who spoke? She could hardly hear him,not when all she could focus on was the torrent of sensations thrashing through her. Her vision felt foggy, barely seeing through the rain and haze of lust. But then Halsin’s voice sounded closer now, serious.

“No more running.” Another command, deeper this time, the growl vibrating up his throat. The clouds clashed again, emphasizing his words as though he was the thunder and she was his lightning.

Her sparks blazed through him, awakening every nerve as his other hand still seized her fist, fueled by the pleasure and pain that rippled down his body. A surge flowed down his center, his cock swelling until it could contain itself no longer. Lightning bolts illuminated the sky as Ro called out his name, her body shuddering beneath him. The thunder soon followed, a resounding power across the skies as Halsin grunted, thrusting his hip once, then twice, and chased her orgasm with his own. Warm fluid erupted from him as he emptied himself entirely within her. Gradually, his strokes slowed as his body trembled, riding the wave.

Ro felt Halsin twitch inside of her, holding himself for one final, deep hold before he swiftly slid out of her already aching walls. She whined at the sudden release, feeling tender and raw, as her legs collapsed on the ground and the magic that sparked within her gradually fizzled away. A light whimper fluttered from her lips as she felt the thick weight of his shaft resting on her cheeks, sliding in between, spreading their combined fluids over her skin. Soft, satisfying groans rumbled from Halsin’s throat, and she closed her eyes to the soothing, pleasurable sounds of her lover. And as their breathing calmed, so too did the storm, easing into a gentle drizzle.

Content on finding solace on the wet grass, Ro found that moment of calm interrupted as his large hands turned her over on her back. Halsin looked down at her, the rise and fall of his chest steady with deep, intended breaths. His hair stuck to his face and neck, and there was a dim ring of a golden glow in his eyes. She was utterly speechless as she held his stare, eyes slightly hooded while she waited for whatever her lover wanted.

Halsin bent towards her, his closeness immediately warming her entire being, and closed his mouth over hers. She sighed in his mouth, returning the kiss immediately. She fully expected it to be wild and erratic, but his kiss was so slow, so tender, not like the rough, remorseless man she just experienced. He kissed her like how he normally would before and after making love. He kissed her in the way she craved to be kissed when they first reunited – a kiss of passion, adoration, and love.

He groaned into her mouth, eliciting yet another moan from her throat, and she wasted no time wrapping her tired arms around his strong neck. A sudden shiver passed through her front and Halsin broke the kiss, brows furrowing in concern. With no words, he reached for his discarded pants and her torn dress and cloak, before scooping her up into the bulk of his arms.

A deep, contented sigh wafted from her lips as he held her close to his chest. Halsin moved through the forest, golden eyes a mesmerizing light in the budding darkness. He didn’t head the same way they came, rather, he strode a longer way around, avoiding cutting through the town to prevent any curious, roaming eyes. He cared little for anyone seeing him in his full glory, but Ro’s body was not for their eyes.

The entire way back to the cabin, Ro doted on him, kissing his chin and cheek, his chest. Occasionally, Halsin would tilt his head down, letting her capture his lips in a brief, tender kiss. She was so incredibly enamored by him, feeling a flutter in her belly at the recent memory of their powerful coupling. How the storm itself seemed to encourage them, fuel them.

“I told you nature would have us,” she uttered beneath him, chuckling softly.

Halsin responded with a deep, resonating laugh, a beautiful vibration from his chest. After several minutes of walking, they made it back to their two-story cabin, greeted by fireflies that illuminated their entire front yard. They seemed to part as Halsin marched down the middle to the front door. He carried her upstairs, then gently sat her down on the end of their large bed.

Ro had already started feeling warm from Halsin’s closeness, and she wasn’t dripping much anymore, save for her hair still being quite soaked. Nevertheless, Halsin went for the wardrobe and pulled out two soft towels then draped one around her body. The other he placed next to her, having no need for it just yet. He gave her a tender smile as she began patting her hair before he stepped towards the fireplace on the other end of the room.

There were already enough logs in the hearth, and with the aid of a quick spell, it didn’t take long to get a calming fire going. Halsin, still fully naked, walked back towards her and bent down, tasting her lips once again. Ro exhaled quietly into his mouth; all thoughts of the towel were forgotten as she let it rest at her waist.

Halsin’s heart paced happily from the warm sparks of her kiss. A sincere sense of glee and satisfaction blanketed across his chest as he leaned more into her, dipping his tongue inside her warm mouth.

“Gods that was…” Ro gasped a breath, finding time to speak between kisses. “Incredible.” She blinked rapidly, as though drowning in disbelief.

Halsin grinned, and a swell of pride arose from his abdomen. But his smile waned when she made a slight hiss, a flash of pain contorting her face after she shifted her position a little.

Sitting next to her, he frowned, heart racing. “Are you in pain?” He reached for her, a soft touch over one thigh as he analyzed the slight punctures from his claws; then the marks on her breasts, and back to the bruising on her hips from where he gripped so tightly.

“Just some soreness that I’m sure I’ll feel even more tomorrow. But that’s okay.” She placed a hand over his, a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t heal it away. Not yet.”

He chuckled at this and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her forehead, then a brief one on her lips. “Still, I… I feel some regret for being so rough with you. That was not like me…” He averted his gaze, slightly turning away from her.

“No, don’t be. I loved it! That was a different side of you…” She stole another kiss, and when she pulled away, her mouth curved into a mischievous grin. “Perhaps I should disappear for a year more often.” She half laughed, using her shoulder to lightly bump into him.

The spell shattered. Halsin’s stomach tightened, and his heart fell into the pit of his stomach. Immediately, his face contorted into a frown, the lines in his cheeks deepening. He rose to his feet, grabbed his towel, and swiftly wrapped it around his waist as he paced toward the window.

“Halsin… I’m only kidding.” Ro stood up, loosely binding the soft towel around her body.

“This is the last time,” Halsin spoke without turning around. “We cannot keep repeating this cycle.” His voice was strict, sharp, cutting across the room. All sense of glee and the afterglow of love had instantly soured, twisting into a brutal reality of the chaos that seemed to thrive between the pair.

“Is it?” she challenged, walking towards him. “Because I recall you saying something similar the last time.”

“I mean it, Ro.”

“No.”

“What?” He turned back around, broad chest puffed and imposing as he glared down at her.

But there was no anger in her eyes and no hostility in her voice when she spoke. She stopped right before him, not succumbing to the ferocity in his glare.

“There is no last time, Halsin. You are meant for me and I am meant for you. Be it one day or one year apart, that will never change.”

“Ro—”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong, Halsin. Tell me your heart doesn’t still race for me as mine does yours.”

“I—” he hesitated. And just like that, the domineering, god of a man who seemed to command thunder itself, had found himself melting before her once again.

When he looked at her, he saw so much. The woman he loved, and the woman who put him through so much. And yet, as his mind commanded him to let her go… his lips would utter, shiver, but they said no words. Because as much as she could sting and wound his heart, he also knew what it felt like to be loved by her. When the woman he fell for shined through the darker parts of her. Her tender, compassionate, adoring side. His savior. His lover.

Ro leaned on the very tips of her toes, brushing a soft kiss on his lips before whispering, “Do you still love me?”

Halsin clenched his jaw, but the longer she stared at him, eyes so warm and full of love, he felt forced to relax. “…I do.”

“Say it, Halsin.”

He held her stare for a long time, his skin prickling under her touch. She was even closer now, trapping him with her essence, her beauty. And those eyes – wells of magic and mayhem – the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Once again, he was lost…

“I love you.”

And just like that, the power shifts again. Halsin just doesn't know when to let go😪

In all seriousness, our bear man absolutely deserves the best kind of love! Just couldn't get this idea out of my head from his in game quote. Hope you all enjoyed either way!🖤

[pinkydevil16]

Dark! Bucky Barnes x Reader- Winter Soldier

Non-con warning, kidnapping, drugs, sexual and physical abuse as well as psychological abuse. 

The Winter Solider was HYDRA's number one priority when it came to their projects, he was their prized dog and they planned to keep him that way. 

Bucky sat in his cell, a pool of blood and a beautiful woman laid within it. He was heaving, he was angry and resentful of the life he lived. He could not remember anything else and yet his mind was disgusted by every action, every kill and every thought he possessed. Especially now as he stared at the lifeless corpse of a HYRDA agent sent to "relieve" him. It happened occasionally, when he had first been taken he had relished in the human contact, still human himself but now, now he despised it. It was all a ploy to see if they could breed a super soldier to see what would make him tick to use it against him. He didn't feel any regret or guilt as his handlers entered, his body listening to their commands as he watched two men drag the woman away. He could tell his handler was unhappy, could see the vein in his forehead threatening to pop as he spoke.

"We try Soldat, to give you everything you could desire, to keep you happy. And you repay us by ripping our presents apart. All you had to do was stick your cock in her." Bucky watched as the handler left, guards following as the cell door slammed closed and he was left once again with the pool of blood. 

"Get Prisoner 265 and bring them to the decontamination unit." The handler spoke as he looked through the log of women they held captive. 

"NO! You bastards get off me." Y/n screamed three men dragged her from cell, her clothes ratty and dirty as one of them grabbed her hair and yanked her towards the showers.

"Wash." She was dumped on the ground as a cold sponge hit her legs, her eyes glaring at the men as she spat at their feet.

"Fuck you." One of the guards went to grab her as Y/n grinned loving how easily riled they were, the other grabbing him back as he smirked at Y/n.

"You can have all the attitude you want in here because once the Soldat is released on you. You'll be begging us for help whilst he splits you in two." Y/n glared at the man before she was pelting with cold water, her body falling back against the tiles as they sprayed her down. Coughing she tried to get on all fours before the guard kicked her in the stomach and watched as she collapsed harshly into a ball, cold and wet as they laughed. 

"Whore." One of them laughed out as they continued to spray her down, the cold water making her skin go red at the pressure.

"Make her look presentable." Y/n was strapped into a chair as a woman stood across from her, scissors and other tools beside her whilst a man in a long white coat began observing her. Her naked body on display for them as she bared her teeth at the man.

"Good teeth. One molar missing, reported when found." As he spoke he forced her mouth open and nodded to himself before writing something in his book.

"Broken rib and three toes reported when found, appears to be all corrected." His pen pressed against her foot where the three toes healed slightly weird. His pen poked against her left side as he looked at the tattoo on her ribs.

"Tattoo given upon arrival." Y/n recalled the pain of the tattoo, feeling the man use a small hammer and needle to mark some symbol onto her ribs.

"No obvious scaring on face, Y/C eyes and Y/C skin, Y/C hair and approximately 25 years old." The man placed down his book as he turned to the woman.

"I will return in one hour." The woman nodded and Y/n gave her pleading eyes.

"Look you don't have to do this." Before she could continue the woman rolled her eyes and shoved a gag into her mouth, Y/n choking slightly as the woman began tidying up her hair.

Y/n despised how the guards held her arms so tight, the loose dress she wore was similar to a hospital gown. Each step felt like hell as they pulled her along, her feet barely touching the ground as she screamed at them.

"Get off of me! You fucking cunts i'll scratch your damn eyes out." Y/n's shouts fell on deaf ears as a door opened and they threw her in, her body hitting the ground loudly before she scrambled up and ran at the door as it closed. A scream coming from her as she began slamming her hands into the door. 

"Another one?" The deep voice made Y/n stop as she turned and saw a man sat behind her, a metal bed with a mattress beside him as he sat on a rusty metal chair.

"Shit." Y/n spoke under her breath as she pressed herself against the door, the man was massive, his black hair fell beside his jawline with small stubble coating it. His body dressed in combat gear and heavy boots pressed into the concrete slabs. Her eyes moved to his arms, one skin and one metal, she noticed the symbol on his arm matched the one on her ribs from what she could recall. Sucking in a breath she didn't dare look away from him as he stood, his protruding figure stalking towards her in near silence as she tried to appear larger by standing straight. That's what she had learnt to do with bears and that's all she could think to do now. 

"You must be the Soldat." Y/n's voice was low as she looked at him, he was handsome and yet the most menacing man she had ever come across. His eyes were piercing into her very soul as his metal hand came up and punched the door begin her, her body jumping as she looked at the dent in the metal as he leaned closer. 

"And you must be the whore they sent me." Y/n looked at him as she felt tears in her eyes, she refused to cry as she raised a hand and pushed her hair out her face.

"I don't know why i was sent here but i am not a whore." Y/n managed to grit out the last word, if she was going to die then she was going to die fighting. The soldat seemed to let out a half laugh half scoff as he looked her up and down, his flesh hand quickly grabbing her throat and pressing her against the door.

"Every woman who comes through these doors is a whore sent for me to fuck. You are no different, and you will die the same as they did." Y/n groaned in pain as she dug her nails into his flesh but kept her eyes on him, seeing his head tilt slightly before he stepped back, his arm pushed outwards to hold her still. 

"Soldat, if you kill this one you will be put in the chamber." A voice crackled over the speakers as Y/n began gasping for air, his hand loosening as he growled before dropping her. Y/n's legs collapsed as she grasped at her throat, eyes welling up with tears as she coughed out and spluttered trying to gain some air back to her lungs. 

"You're like a child throwing his toys out the pram." Y/n spat out as she leaned against the door, watching the Soldat as he sat back on the rusty chair and stared at her with hatred. 

"You are a whore, you do not speak to me." Y/n rubbed her neck as she watched him flex his metal arm. 

Bucky watched her closely as her hands touched the soft skin of her neck, he enjoyed her spark, he wanted to watch it burn out and see her completely give herself to him. He was between two minds, most of the women came in and tried to seduce him, most likely to save their own skin. They'd touch him and try not to show fear but he saw it the second he moved towards them. But this one was different, she was defiant and too against it all to be a HYDRA agent. Maybe that was what he liked, that she was also being controlled by them, that she wasn't wanting to do this to him like the others did. Maybe he sympathised with her. Maybe that's why he chose to do what he did. 

Standing up Bucky walked towards Y/n, her eyes never leaving his form as she scurried to her feet and stayed still, his chest touching hers as he finally stopped.

"Strip." Y/n couldn't find the words as she shook her head and held her dress.

"Strip or i will strip you." 

Bucky's handler grinned as they watched behind the one way glass, their Soldat was finally following their orders fully. They watched as Y/n glared at the Soldat for a minute her eyes shifting to behind him where the bed laid and the handler held his breath as the Soldat grabbed her dress and ripped it off her.

"Get on the bed or i will fuck you on the ground." The handler let out a laugh and watched as the scientists each noted down different things, their monitors next to them showing each of their hear signatures and heart rates. The soldat's was faster than usual but nothing compared to Y/n's beating heart. Another scientist adjusted the temperature, making the room a degree warmer as they watched the heat signature on Y/n go cooler against her feet and hands. They needed this first time to work, for him to not kill her with his hands or with his lust, then they could move onto phase 2. 

Y/n wanted to punch, kick and fight her way out but she knew she was defenceless as the Soldat grabbed her arm and pushed her towards the bed. She stood tall and proud as she walked towards it, staring at it before she was roughly forced to bend over the side. Her arms pinned behind her back as he stood behind her. 

"You must feel like such a strong man forcing me to do this." Y/n spat as she heard his belt fall to the ground, a grunt coming from him as she braced herself. 

The handler let out a laugh as he heard Y/n's scream in pain, watching as she bit the bedding to suppress the scream as the Soldat pounded into her. His hands clasping together as he watched.

"In the whole time i have been his handler i have never been prouder. I've had to deal with over 40 women being slaughtered by him and all it took was a little bit of fire to spark it." The man laughed darkly as he landed a hand on the scientist with a grin.

"Good work." His laughter echoed throughout the compound as he walked out, the guards following him whilst the scientists continued with their tests and reports. The grunts from the Soldat fading into the background.

Y/n refused to cry, as much as she wanted to be a sobbing mess and beg him to stop she refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead she bit down on the mattress and tried to hold in her cries of pain, her arms feeling at almost breaking point as he forced them closer to her shoulder blades with each thrust. The same thrust that felt like she would be torn in two, she knew she was bleeding and that he was most likely enjoying it. She stared blankly at the mattress as she felt her body jostle against the cheap fabric bedding, the friction burn against her breasts and stomach was nothing compared to the burn in her pussy as he continued his merciless pounding. She felt the blood rushing to her ears and a horrible headache pouring into her brain, every nerve on edge as her body was yanked upwards. 

"I'm going to keep you Little Dove." The Soldat whispered in her ear as he moved to hold her throat, his metal hand grasping her soft skin harshly as he forced her head back to look at him. Watching the pain in her eyes as she held back tears, his eyes boring into her as he thrust deeper at the new angle. His flesh hand kneading at her hip before he groaned and dropped his head into the crescent of her shoulder, his teeth biting down hard as she let out a small cry of pain. His metal hand contracting and cutting off her airwaves as he came deep inside her, her body beginning to shake as she tried desperately to catch her breath. She imagined this was how so many before her had died, how she would die but instead just as she saw black dots she was thrown down onto the mattress. Her body begged for air as she coughed, her throat already feeling bruised as she wheezed and tried desperately to fill her lungs but the pain in her throat made her breathing more laboured. 

Y/n laid on the mattress for what felt like hours coughing and trying to breathe normally but every intake was half hearted and only caused her to grasp at her throat and try harder. 

"Get out." Y/n glared at the Soldat as he grabbed her arm and threw her towards the door, her voice barely working as she tried to curse him out but it only came out in a hoarse whisper as the door slid open and guards pulled her out. 

"Good job 265 you've been promoted." The handler grinned as Y/n was pulled towards the infirmary, a trail of blood dripped down her legs as they forced her to walk. 

Y/n sat in her cell, she had been released from the infirmary with strict instructions she be given 24 hours before being sent back in. She was disgusted, they'd poked and prodded her, injected her with drugs she didn't even understand the name of and taken a semen sample from her abused pussy. She had tried to fight against the restraints but that had quickly been shut down when they threatened to bring the Soldat in to hold her down, she'd held her tongue and glared at them as they continued. When they pressed the needle into her arm they claimed it would help her withstand the Soldat,i to be able to move onto phase 2. She'd wanted to rip her arm out and smash the vial, tell them they could shove phase 2 up their ass but exhaustion was hitting her hard and she could barely feel her throat. 

Now she curled her knees up to her chest and tried to ignore the blinding pain between her legs and the tenderness in her neck. She felt like shit, like she'd been run over three times in a row and yet that seemed more appealing than what she had truly endured. She didn't understand why someone would ever want this to happen, would plan for this. Instead she stared at the cell door and thought and thought, and thought. And with each thought another violent act came to mind of which way she would end them all. She wanted to castrate the Soldat, cut out his tongue and watch him choke on his own blood. And the scientists, she imagined restraining them and injecting them with every experiment they ever came up with, just so they knew what it felt like to be tampered with. She savoured the image of the man who called her 265, the officer who orchestrated it all, she wanted to watch him scream and beg for his life. She imagined all sorts of ways to hurt him, from skinning him alive to tying him to a car and driving as fast as she could but none of them brought her happiness. None of the violent images helped her, they only made her worse, reminded her that she was stuck here. That it wasn't some horrible nightmare to wake up from, this was her reality. 

The handler grinned as he walked towards the Soldat, Bucky watched him closely as he approached.

"You did well Soldat. If you do well on your missions we will reward you with her." Bucky nodded as the handler grinned and leaned down so he was face to face with the Winter Soldier.

"Good job making her scream." The man laughed in Bucky's face as he stared at him, no emotion behind his eyes before they began dragging him to the electric chair for more conditioning. A reward before he was forced to comply with his next mission. 

Y/n stood on shakey legs as she tried to walk to the toilet in the far corner of her cell, the pain between her legs was burning as she bit her lip to stop from crying out. Each step was agony before she finally managed to sit on the rusty metal toilet, tears prickling her eyes as she wiped and saw the blood. Scrunching her eyes up she threw the paper in the toilet and stood, flushing it quickly and trying to walk normally back to the bed so no one would see her pain. 

"Against the wall!" A voice shouted as a loud bang sounded inside the cell, Y/n grabbed her ears and fell against the wall as she held herself up with her back. Watching as the cell door slid open and in walked three guards, two of them the same as who had thrown her into the shower and another one holding a tray with slop. Moving her hands off her ears she stood straighter although she could feel the pain shoot through her stomach as she did. Holding her head high she watched as the leader of the three approached her with a sick smile, his hand coming out and grasping her bruised throat as she gripped his arm.

"We all heard you scream for the Soldat. If you survived that you should be able to handle us three just fine." Y/n's eyes widened as she watched the man place the tray down and close the cell door. Y/n shifted her eyes back to the man holding her as she put a sweet smile on her face.

"Whatever you want Sir." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to stop it cracking from the pain as he smirked and leant closer to kiss her. Y/n took his weakness as opportunity and slammed her arm down against his elbow, forcing his hand to open and let go of her throat as she smashed her forehead against his nose hearing a sickening crack. As he stumbled back she raised her foot and slammed it between his legs watching as he crumbled to the ground whilst the other two grabbed their radios and tasers.

"You dumb whore." The man on the ground cried out as she stumbled away from the two approaching her, her hands feeling behind her for anything to defend herself. 

"Fucking shock her." He shouted as he clutched his nose, Y/n's eyes widening as one of them begin moving closer and raising the taser, her hand managing to grab the tray and throw it at him as the slop covered his face and he yelped in surprise. 

"Back off." Y/n's voice was hoarse and barely a normal tone as she tried to shout at them, but she knew she was going to lose this battle. The other man tased her as she shook and yelped out in pain falling to the ground, the other two recovered and standing over her.

"You little bitch i'm going to teach you a god damn lesson." The guard spoke as blood coated his face and teeth, Y/n convulsed on the ground as the shocks finally stopped but instead she felt numerous kicks to her stomach and legs as she protected her head. She cried out in pain as he forced her onto her back and punched her in the face, feeling her jaw crack slightly at the force, his hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing as he began unbuckling his belt.

"You pathetic whore. You think you're better than us huh? Cos you survived that monster." Y/n managed to spit some blood at the man which made him let out a grunt as he forced his trousers down and shouted orders at the guards to hold her down. Y/n was pinned by her shoulders on either side as she tried to kick out, the adrenaline pumping through her body as she squirmed like a wild animal, her hair sticking to her bloodied and sweaty face as she tried to scream but nothing came out. As she felt him forcing her legs apart she heard the cell door slam open, the guards looking towards the door before she turned her head and saw him. The Soldat. Before she could comprehend what happened he had the guard by his throat and sickening crunch echoed through the cell before his body dropped at her legs, his body turned to the two holding her down as they tried to run but he was quicker. Y/n closed her eyes as she heard the slamming of bodies and more breaking bones, her body curling into a ball as she felt every injury ache and spike in pain. 

"Little Dove." His voice was deep and not reassuring in the slightest as he gripped her arm and forced her up, a yelp coming from her as he threw her into the mattress and glared down at her. He looked her over fully before stepping back as guards all rushed in, his handler entering a moment later with an angry look as he took in the cell, Y/n barely conscious on the bed and three dead guards whilst the Soldat stood rigid in military position awaiting orders. 

The handler stood behind the one way glass, it had been two days since the Soldat had bust his way through to Prisoner 265's cell and killed the three guards. Y/n was still in the infirmary being treated for broken ribs, a cracked jaw and some internal bleeding which was very inconvenient for the Project. He wanted to begin phase 2 quickly and had made it very clear to all those on the base that if they in anyway interfered they would be punished. Now he watched as the Soldat's cell door opened and a frightened woman was pushed in, she looked similar to 265 but was more skittish and let out a cry as she noticed the Soldat. 

"Please, please let me out." The woman begged as she cried, the Handler watched carefully as the Soldat approached her. Her sobs growing louder as she curled into herself on the ground, his figure looming over her as he grunted and turned back around walking away. Sitting back in his chair and ignoring her as the handler scowled and pressed the speaker. 

"Soldat. You know what to do." Bucky raised his head and stared at the one way glass, he only saw himself reflected but he could feel his Handler watching him. Scowling he stood and approached the glass, standing exactly opposite the handler who looked at the scientists in confusion.

"Bring me Little Dove." Bucky's voice was deep and demanding as he looked back at the woman who sobbed harder and clung to her legs in fear. 

"This is not a negotiation Soldat. You will have whoever we give you." Bucky looked back at the glass and tilted his head slightly, assessing how strong it would be before turning around and stalking towards the woman. She cried and begged as he lifted her up, forcing her towards the glass before he slammed her face against the glass so hard it cracked. The handler jumped back as he watched her face crumble under the pressure and the crack of her bones breaking as he reared her head back and slammed it again, the glass breaking apart slowly and imbedding in her skin as she cried out. The scientists all cringed as he smashed her face once more against the glass and the heart monitor slowed before fully stopping, her body hitting the ground as he stared at the crack. 

"Bring. Me. Little. Dove." The handler felt his hands shake slightly before he cleared his throat and shook his head trying to find out what words would work the best to bring control back to himself. 

"This is not how it works Soldat. We own you, you follow our commands. Now sit down or i will kill your Little Dove." Bucky stared for a moment before he raised his fist and punched the glass with his metal arm, watching it shatter as everyone in the other room stepped back and tried not to get cut whilst he stared into the Handler's eyes. Bucky stared for a minute before returning to his chair and awaiting his Little Dove. 

Y/n was shoved into the cell and the door locked behind her as she caught herself, her body shaking from being forced out the infirmary and into the Soldat's cell. She raised her head as he stared at her, taking in her black eye and bruised jaw, the various bruises littering her skin that weren't caused by him. Each mark made him growl to himself before his gaze settled on her neck, his hand mark bruised the skin and settled into a deep purple mark that made him grunt in approval. Y/n stood taller as she winced at the pain in her ribs and legs, her eyes never leaving the Soldat as he approached her. Each step felt like a lifetime as he neared her, her body wanting to shrivel up and die as he brought his hand up to her chin and raised it, looking her face over before grabbing her arm in a gentle grip. One that would still bruise but not nearly as tight as he had previously held her, pulling her to the bed before he pushed her in front of him.

"Bend over." Y/n turned around quickly and glared at him, her jaw set as she felt the muscles contract and pain shoot through her nerves.

"No." Y/n didn't care if she died, she's been kidnapped, beaten and raped. She refused to bend to his will. 

"Bend over or i'll snap your back." Y/n gritted her teeth as she took a step forward her chest pressing against his as she tilted her head to continue to hold eye contact.

"If you're going to rape me then atleast have the balls to look me in the eyes as you do it. You coward." 

The handler let out a laugh from behind the bullet proof one way glass, an upgrade from the previous one as he watched the scientists continue to monitor. 

"Is the serum working?" He didn't move his eyes off the scene in front of him as one of scientists flicked through their clipboard and looked between her previous vitals and her current ones.

"Her red blood count had gone up over double since we injected her with the serum and she appears to be taking to it well." The handler nodded as he watched the Soldat glare at 265.

Y/n couldn't understand the Soldat as he spat out a word in russian she could barely register before his hand grabbed her jaw and squeezed. She felt tears prickle her eyes as she whimpered in pain, her hands instinctively grabbing at his hand feeling the flesh under her finger tips. 

"You need to learn your place." Bucky spoke lowly as he pushed her backwards, her body bouncing on the mattress twice before she was able to stop herself from moving and look up at him.

"You are nothing more than a puppet." Y/n gritted out before he gripped her legs and forced them open, his body looming over her as he kissed her harshly. A gasp coming from her as she tried to push his face off, turning her head to the side and grunting as she tried to fight against him. Every movement stung as he grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head, his thighs pushing her legs open and heavy boots sitting across her ankles to keep them open as he held both her hands in his metal hand. His other coming to his belt as he looked down at her with malice, her teeth gritted and eyes sparked with defiance as she refused to look down. She felt his combat trousers against the inside of her thighs as he lined himself up and with a malicious grin he thrust inside. Watching her closely as her face scrunched up in pain and her chest began heaving whilst she tried to breathe through the pain. Her head falling to the side as she let out a cry of pain, he felt her hands ball up and could see her nails digging into her palms.

"Little Dove, look at me whilst i ravish you." His voice was silky smooth in her ear as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. Her eyes were full of tears as he pulled back and thrust in deeper and harder than before, watching how the wind was knocked out of her and her eyes almost bulged out her head. He let out a light laugh as he let go of her chin and ran his hand along her body and between her legs, his rough fingertips making goosebumps along her body as she grit her teeth. His eyes never leaving hers as he swirled his fingers around her clit and smirked as she hiccuped in shock.

"I'm going to make your body love this. Your mind might hate you but your body will learn to follow my every command. I will own you. I will be your puppet master and i will make you sing for me whenever i please." His voice was barely audible as a faint Brooklyn accent seemed to slip into his voice, her eyes were blurred by tears as she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"It doesn't mean anything. I will never enjoy this no matter what you do to me. I don't want this." Y/n mumbled to herself, fear creeping along her stomach and stilling her heart as she felt herself grow wet, she felt disgusted with herself. She didn't want this, she didn't enjoy this and yet her body was betraying her. She hated every second but some part of her was thankful as the pain began to subside, but the burning fire of hate ripped the gratefulness away as her stomach began to coil. She held her tongue so hard it bled as the Soldat thrusts became slow and deliberate, his fingers moving in tandem with the rise and fall of her chest as she kept her eyes closed. She refused to be apart of this. She tried to think of anything else, she wanted to drift away in her mind and leave her body behind to take on the burden. But instead she brutally forced back into her body as he thrust harshly into her and snarled. Her eyes popped open as her body shocked back to life under him, her mind reeling to remember how to breathe.

"You don't go anywhere. You are mine. Your mind is mine. Your body is mine Little Dove." Bucky sped his finger up as his thrusts got deeper and quicker, watching her body move with each thrust and hiccups and yelps exit her mouth. His grunts following each thrust and his eyes closing momentarily before opening to stare into hers with purpose, watching her pupils widen and body begin to shake. Y/n tried to concentrate on anything else, her eyes boring into his forehead instead of his eyes as she bit down on her already bloody tongue and tried to think of the taste. Anything to distract her from the curling of her toes or the sob in her throat that wanted to break free as her body shook. Bucky let out a loud moan as he thrust deeper before stilling, his breathing controlled as he forced a kiss on Y/n. Her eyes closing and allowing her some reprieve as she distanced herself from her body, trying not to feel his cum seeping out of her or how heavy his body was against her own. 

Y/n laid in her cell, her mind reeling and body shivering with disgust as she thought of the smirk he had given her as she was taken away. As though he had fully taken her in that moment, but she knew he didn't own her. He could say it, he could think it, he could shout it from the rooftops and put it in the papers but it didn't matter to her. He didn't own her. 

The same routine continued for almost three months, she would be brought to him, he would try to break her and she would wish he died. Each time it was like a small piece of herself was chipped away, like he was slowly unravelling her like a ball of yarn to get to the centre. He was greedy, he wanted to revel in her body coming undone from him, to see the hatred and disgust in her eyes. He enjoyed the control, when he had none else where, she reminded him of himself. His old self, before they had messed with his mind and some sick part of him wanted to break her like they did him. A nagging voice in the back of his head wanted to preserve that spark, to nurture it and make it grow bigger until she finally exploded. 

Y/n stood in the doorway to the cell, the guard unlocking her handcuffs as she stared down the Soldat. The same routine as always, she'd refuse to look away and he would drink in her attention. But this time it was different, he wasn't sat in his normal chair instead he was laid on the bed. His normal uniform gone and instead only his combat trousers covering him as he leant his head against his arms. He seemed to relaxed as he gave her a smile, one that made her body stand on edge as the guard pushed her inside. 

"Hey Doll." His voice was thick with a Brooklyn accent, one she had only heard in passing and yet it sounded so natural as he pushed his hair back and moved to let her have space on the bed. She raised an eyebrow, that nickname was not one he had ever used before. She was Little Dove. Never anything different. He seemed to give her a tentative smile as she approached, her eyes darting around the room waiting for the sick joke but instead he pat the bed and looked at her with adoring eyes.

"Didn't think i'd ever meet a dame so pretty." His voice was barely above a whisper as he looked towards the one way glass. Y/n scowled as she took him in, his whole aura had changed, he was relaxed and human. That was the only word that came to her head as she surveyed him. Human. 

"What the hell are you playing at Soldat." Y/n spat as she looked at him, his face steeling slightly before he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"My name is Bucky. Say it." Y/n's eyes widened as he looked at her expectedly. She didn't want to know his name, it made it worse. It made him seem human and normal instead of the monster she had been thrown to time and time again. 

"No." Y/n stared at him as he seemed to process her words, his eyes moving back to the glass before returning to her face.

"I'm only here for a small amount of time before they bring him back. You should do what i ask." Y/n scowled and leant forward, her hand coming to sit beside his hip as she sneered at him.

"You are the Soldat, just because you put on an accent and pretend to be normal doesn't change the fact you're a monster." She spat the last word out as his eyes darkened and breathing quickened, his flesh hand coming out to grasp her throat but she was used to it now. Her body seemed to be more resilient to the abuse, healing quicker and she felt stronger than before. 

"Listen Doll, i want to try to treat you right. Because the other guy in my head likes you a lot but he has a bad way of showing it. So whilst i'm in control i thought i'd make you happy. But you need to be a good girl for me." Y/n's mouth turned into a mocking frown as she grabbed his arm and dug her nails in until she felt blood touch her finger tips.

"And you listen to me Bucky the only way i'll be happy is once you're six feet under." She felt his hot breath against her face as he huffed, her body suddenly being thrown down onto the bed as he climbed ontop of her.

"You have a really bad mouth on you Doll. But it's okay, i'm going to make you realise how sweet i can be." Y/n squirmed as he parted her legs, his hands holding her arms by her side as his shoulders kept her legs apart. Y/n watched as his head dipped lower, his lips kissing along her inner thighs before he let out a moan, his eyes moving to hers as she grit her teeth.

"You really are the prettiest Dame, i can't wait to hear you sing for me Doll." His mouth then dropped between her thighs and licked a strip along her pussy, her legs tried to close but he let out a tut against her clit, the hot hair making her sweat as he slightly shook his head.

"Oh Doll, don't be shy now. I've seen this pussy enough times i could draw it from memory." Y/n wanted to throw up as he spoke, his tongue lapping at her pussy rhythmically as she tried to wiggle away but his hold was steady as he moaned with each movement.

"So pretty. You're all mine Doll." He praised her as he swirled his tongue around her clit, his eyes moving to watch her chest rise and fall as she stared at the ceiling. His eyebrows matted together before he landed a harsh smack to her thigh making her yelp out and come back to reality as she looked down at him.

"Do not do that again." Y/n looked away as she felt his stubble graze her inner thigh, her heart beating quickly as she closed her eyes and tried to pretend to be present. A gasp escaping her as he sucked harshly on her clit eliciting a grin from him as he continued. Bucky moaned as he felt her begin to soak his stubble, his eyes rolling back as he ran his hands down her arms and entwined their hands. Y/n shivered at the intimate act, tears prickling her eyes as she willed them away. Her stomach felt tight and the heat between her legs was burning her up as her body responded to Bucky's actions. She felt tears escape her eyes as a shuddered whimper came from her throat as she came, her eyes closing tightly as she let out a small sob as she heard Bucky moan loudly and praise her.

"Good girl Doll, doing so well for me. Give me one more." Y/n shook her head and hiccuped as he moved both her hands together on her stomach and held them with his metal hand, his flesh one coming to palm at her inner thighs as he continued his rhythm on her clit. She shuddered as she felt his hand dip lower until he slowly pressed two fingers into her pussy, a guttural groan coming from him as he thrust them in and out.

"Damn Doll you're drenched for me. This pussy is amazing." He moved his head and sucked hard on her inner thigh making her yelp in pain as his fingers continued their brutal pace in and out. Each time they slide in he curled them methodically feeling how her pussy fluttered around his fingers and her breath hitched. Turning his head back he sucked on her clit as he moved his eyes to watch her back arch, her eyes closed but he could see the tears falling as she let out a ragged moan. Her head shaking side to side as she whispered to herself.

"Please no." Y/n begged as she continued to shake her head, she hated herself for feeling good because of him. She knew it wasn't her fault but it was horrible to be so out of control of her own body. As she came again she heard Bucky let out a growl and the bed shake as he thrust into it, his hand pulling from her to wrap around her thighs as he pulled her closer and lapped her up. Y/n squirmed and let out a cry as she tried to wiggle away, her hands now free as she began slapping at his head and trying to push him away. He finally let her go with a shakey moan as she scurried back and curled in on herself like a cat, her eyes red and vengeful as she watched him suck his fingers clean. His whole body seemed more relaxed as she let out a huff and grinned as he pushed back his hair.

"Jesus Doll, you are perfect you know that right?" He crawled towards her as she kicked her legs out and almost hissed at him, her nails digging into his skin as he rolled onto his back pulling her with him. His arms caging her in as he let out a sigh and closed his eyes, her body pinned on top of him as he smiled to himself.

"Try to sleep for a bit Doll before they drag you away and the other guy comes back." Y/n shook her head and kept her eyes wide open as she looked at the wall, she prayed they'd open the cell door as quick as usual and take her out but they didn't. Maybe it was because he hadn't almost choked her to death or make her bleed. Or maybe they just wanted to prolong her torture. Instead she laid there in his arms as he breathed in deeply and rubbed his stubble against her head, humming to himself in content. It felt like hours before the cell doors opened and Bucky was forced to hand her back, his eyes now harsh and menacing as he growled at the guards who grabbed her. Y/n refused to look towards him as she walked back to her cell, the Handler raising an eyebrow as he looked at her state. 

Y/n scrubbed at her body, the guards turned around and chatting to themselves whilst the scientist lifted her arms and examined her, her eyes darting to his as she sneered. The rough scrubber cleansed her skin of his scent as she scrubbed harder at her thighs and between her legs. She knew they'd make her do a pregnancy test in the morning, the same as every day. Pregnancy test, breakfast, examination and injection and then to the Soldat or to the cell. She knew they were pumping her body with hormones and something else that burnt when they injected her, they drew blood every other day and would give her specific vitamins when needed. She felt like cattle raised to slaughter. Every pregnancy test that came back negative gave her a boost of happiness to know she wasn't carrying his child, to know she was safe a while longer from the future. She feared the day it would all change, she knew it would eventually because that's why she was there. It was inevitable. 

[littlemissaddict]

Tattoo's - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader gets her first tattoo much to Eddie's surprise.

Word Count: 1277

She didn’t hear the front door open, or Eddie announce his arrival home from work. She was in the bathroom focused on cleaning her new tattoo completely unaware of his presence until she caught sight of movement in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. “Eddie!” she smiled excitedly, spinning around to face him where he was now leaning against the door frame watching her with intrigue.

He chuckled slightly as he stepped towards her, “Now baby what’s gotten you so distracted that I didn’t get my proper welcome home” he teased, smiling down at her as she stood in front of him. He figured it must be something big as she couldn’t stand still, he could feel her excitement radiating from her as she swung her clasped hands in front of her all the while a grin spread across her face.

“Well…” she draws out, her eyes quickly glancing down, so quick that Eddie almost misses the movement but she speaks again before he can follow her gaze downwards. “You know how I’ve been wanting a tattoo for a while” is all she manages before he interrupts her.

“You didn’t” his eyes widened as she nodded at him, "Let me see, let me see" he pleaded, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his excitement rivalled her own.

Holding out her arm, she watched him as his eyes followed the black tendrils of ink spanning across her forearm. His hands reached out to twist her arm slightly so that he could see from a different angle which she allowed seeing as his hands weren't actually touching the tender skin. Although the moment his hands moved to try and trace over the lines, she was quick to slap them away. "Nope not with your dirty, greasy mechanic hands" she scolded lightly, ignoring the pout that appeared on his plush lips, "I have to keep it clean so that I don't risk it getting infected" she informed him. It was something she assumed he knew considering the assortment of tattoos that littered his body and she was quick to point that out to him, "I just want it to heal properly like yours" she reasoned when he responded with a 'but baby'

Eddie snickered at that, "Yeah considering mine were done from a friend of a friend in Rick's basement it's a wonder they healed at all" he revealed, something she hadn't known before.

"Eddie it's your body, your life but it could get really dangerous if they'd have gotten infected" she urged. She'd heard all sorts of horror stories of people who had gotten ill from an infected tattoo so much so that they almost died, she shook the thought away, not willing to think of Eddie like that and instead opting just to look at him with wide eyes while she waited for his response.

"Yeah well when you short of cash you take your chances where you can" he shrugged as if it was nothing but he didn't miss the way her eyes grew comically larger at his nonchalance of the subject, "but I promise that's in the past, my last few have been from accredited tattooists in a proper parlour so you don't have to worry your pretty little head" he assured her, sealing it with a kiss to her forehead.

It had the desired effect and she relaxed at his words, though making a promise to herself to watch him closely when he inevitably got his next one. "I hope so mister" she spoke with a pointed glare his way, playfully prodding his chest with her finger, which he wasted no time in grabbing and tugging her close to him, causing her to squeal at the unexpected movement. “But can you do me a favour and help me wrap it?” she pouted up at him once the room had stilled..

A smirk grew on Eddie’s face as he, as usual, found an innuendo in everything. “Oh we’re wrapping it up now, I thought you liked it raw?” he teased, laughing as a choked sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp passed her lips as she placed her palm flat against his chest so she could push her body away from his.

“Un-fucking-believable” she scoffed turning her back to him, not that she could fool him as he had already seen the smile tugging at her lips, well that and he could see her reflection in the mirror now that she’d turned around.

Stepping forward, until his chest was pressed against her back, he slipped his arms around her middle and tucked his face into the crook of her neck, his warm breath tickling the skin as he spoke. “I’m only kidding baby,” followed by kisses up the column of her neck to just under her ear, “of course I’ll help you wrap it” he whispered against the shell of her ear before pulling away, chuckling to himself as her body tried to follow him. “Just gotta wash these dirty mechanic hands first” he spoke, repeating her earlier words back to her as he wiggled them in her face briefly and she scrunched her face up in response.

They were quiet as he washed his hands and she turned to get the wrap for her arm. Once his hands were dry, he took what he needed from her outstretched hands, his own working expertly to cut the wrap down to size and gently place it over the tender skin with ease before he secured it with a little tape so that it wouldn’t come off during the night.

“There all done” he pulled back to let her admire his handiwork and she whispered her thanks to him as her eyes remained cast down, still focused on her arm. Eddie reached out again, hands desperate to trace over the design, only this time she let him since there was no contact with her inked skin. “It really is beautiful, don't know how you managed to keep it a secret from me though” he laughed quietly, his eyes still focused on the black ink just like her.

“It was tough, I did want you there but then I didn’t want to tell people in case I chickened out last minute” she explained, a slight pout on her face as she did so.

Eddie nodded in understanding, a tattoo was a big commitment, something you had to be one hundred percent certain with considering it was on your body for the rest of your life. “Well I’m glad you didn’t, makes you look even more metal” he joked, sending a wink her way which made her laugh.

“Well that’s easy enough to do since the only thing metal about me is you” she spoke and he gasped in response.

“T’is not you are plenty metal” he argued as she shook her head which only caused him to rattle off a list of everything he believed made her the most metal person he knew. Smothering her in praise in the cramped bathroom of their shared trailer, in their own little bubble where they could be anything they wanted to as long as they had each other, something they both hoped would never change.

Eventually they moved to the couch in front of the old tv with bowls of boxed mac n cheese in their hands with the talk of future tattoos filling the space between them, which turned into future plans, which then finally turned into them falling asleep tangled with each other awkwardly on the couch in ways that would leave them aching in the morning but their hearts full in the present.

[livelaughloveloak]

★ SURE THING . . ! 🪐

previous part

⋆ pairing :: Neteyam x Navi! Reader

⋆ summary :: back in the omatikaya clan you always dreamt about sharing tsaheylu with the Olo'eyktan's oldest son. Now that you and Neteyam are both 18 will that dream finally become reality?

⋆ word count :: 1.1k words

⋆ author's note :: pt 2 of tattoo. Since the first part was based on the girl with the tattoo this part is based on Sure Thing by Miguel 🙌🙌 Honestly this is so short because I didn't know what to write

Even when the sun don't shine

"Neteyam?"

Oh how he loved hearing you say his name again.

Neteyam stood there frozen, bright yellow eyes almost popping out of his sockets. He watched you walk closer to him with your hand covering your mouth, the same expression as he had on displayed on your face.

"Oh my eywa it is you" Your hand now gently placed itself on his cheek, your eyes scanning his face. It had been one and a half years since Neteyam officially had fled the Omatikaya clan to live in the reef. He looks different but in a good way, you never thought Neteyam could get even more beautiful but fortunately you were wrong.

Neytiri watched in the background with awe, she always liked yours and Neteyam's relationship. Even as young kids she knew you guys would grow up to be closer than ever, and it turns out that her motherly instincts were right. She soon enough looked around and hissed almost as if she had venom coming out her mouth. She pointed at the lingering group watching you and Neteyam hug. "Go! What are you looking at?!"

They all scurried away to go back to their shared marui or to do something as Neytiri scooped up her youngest Tuk and signaled her other children to follow her back home.

I got faith in you and I

Your eyes stopped at a scar right at his chest. Your eyes squinted, trying to see if you were seeing things or not. You took your hand off his cheek and placed it on top of the wound. Your eyebrows furrowed before you looked up at his eyes.

"What happened?"

Neteyam held your hand and placed it down with a light chuckle.

"Oh my girl, it looks like you need to be caught up on some stuff." With that Neteyam started walking with you beside him, still holding your hand in his. It was a silent walk, a comforting silence. You enjoyed this very much because unlike here back in the forest there always seemed to be an eerie silence surrounding you. You couldn't hear Neteyam laughing or talking to you everyday, it was like living the same nightmare over and over again.

Neteyam stopped in a quiet, secluded part inside the small forest within the island.

You looked down, noticing how he was still holding your hand. You smiled.

"Neteyam I don't think I can do it"

You huffed in frustration, dropping your bow to the ground. You were out hunting with Neteyam for the first time ever. You were only 7 years old which means you were inexperienced with this sort of thing, as you were more skilled with healing so you spent your time mostly learning that.

Neteyam on the other hand started training once he learnt how to hold a bow in his own two hands.

The young male Navi gently picked up your bow that he had made for you "Stop, don't say that." Neteyam placed it into your dominant hand. His hand reached out and held the other, caressing it. "Don't give up so easily y/n it's your first time."

You looked up, staring into his eyes that were filled with honesty.

"I'll be here with you, every step at a time."

So put your pretty little hand in mine

He indeed was there with you every step at a time. Neteyam was the sweetest and skilled boy you'd ever met, and you could proudly say that other people would agree with you.

Neteyam let go of your hand and laid down on a pile of soft leaves leaning. He got comfortable then waved towards the empty space beside him, signaling for you to come and lay down as well. Being obedient to his orders, you laid down and immediately got engulfed into a tight and needed hug.

"So mind telling me the story behind the bullet wound? I mean you didn't have it when you left."

Even when we're down to the wire, babe

Even when it's do or die

Neteyam pulled back a little and looked straight into your eyes. It had already turned into night by now which made Neteyam stare in awe at your bioluminescent freckles glowing.

You soothingly traced your finger in his X shaped ribcage as your ears twitched and moved upon hearing him tell his tale about the war and how he managed to get shot trying to save a spider.

Silence filled the air once he was done with his story. Your arm had fallen on top of his chest, your eyes still staring at one another.

"You're one mighty warrior alright."

"Yeah? Am I at least your warrior?"

We could do it baby, simple and plain

"Yes Neteyam, you can if you want to be." You and Neteyam stood face to face on a small island where it was only the two of you. You and Neteyam were covered in paint, finally passing your iknayima. Neteyam placed his hands on your hips as your hands rested on his shoulders. He moved you in closer so he can have easy access to your lips. Neteyam leaned down, dangerously close.

"Will you let me?"

"Is that even a question teyam?"

With that you crashed your lips onto his, sloppingly kissing him. This was your first kiss as you were planning to save it for the perfect time, and this was beyond perfect. If you would have told you as a little kid that the son of the Olo'eyktan just asked you to be his mate, you'd pass out.

You two pulled back to catch your breath. Loud panting was heard followed along with some chuckles.

Your eyes watched as Neteyam's hand reached behind him, bringing his queue to the front of him. You copied his movements shortly after inching yours closer to his. The pink tendrils latched onto each other.

Your pupils blown in size while you felt a wave of emotion hit you, it was the bond. You and Neteyam were now officially mated for life. Life of death, even in eywa's paradise you two would love each other as your souls were now combined as one.

No words except one could describe this moment.

"Oel ngati kameie"

Cause this love is a sure thing

🏷️: @jujudsmyst @someoneisweird @mavicbuenaflor @loopyeon @gcldtom @neteyamxlover @who-is-ej @me753 @fukingsad @kurxxmi @bigdikzaddy