#(💖) [ my chosen one ]

[endlesspaint]

Welp, they're lost

[punkeropercyjackson]

Added three new names to my hoard!!One's a gem name and the other two are them:

Ngl i'm surprised it took my nerdy black ass this long to name myself after black superheroes

[transgender-catboy]

His pussy would heal me I think

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

Fire On Fire: Chapter 20

(Ch. 19) ... (Ch. 1)

II Gallery II Symbol Guide II

Summary: Being a spy, Alix is accustomed to lies. But then, maybe the lies that hurt the most are the ones we tell ourselves.

WARNINGS: Angst!!!! Heartbreak!!! Mixed Signals!!! (w/ a side of worried Skip & Don)

A/N: Normally I would wait longer to post this but alas, I have no self-control lol 🤭

Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs @mccall-muffin @lieutenant-speirs @emmythespacecowgirl @holdingforgeneralhugs @parajumpboots @hxad-ovxr-hxart @sleepisforcowards @indigo-luvers @ax-elcfucker-blog @chaosklutz @mads-weasley @vibing-away @wwhatev3r

Contemporary: October 24th, 1944. Driel, Netherlands.

Being that Easy Company had settled for the day, mail call was a great opportunity to put names to faces and Alix was taking full advantage of it.

"Lipton!" A particularly pompous PFC barked as he read off the envelope in-hand. "First Sergeant Lipton!"  

A seated trooper with downturned eyes and a weary smile raised a hand from his spot about a yard away, sending the orderly scurrying over to him with his delivery in-hand.

Seconds later, another announcement and another package: 

“Welsh! Lieutenant Welsh!” 

“Right here!” a voice shouted and Alix saw a curly-haired trooper with a wry, gap-toothed grin jog from his foxhole to retrieve the parcel, too impatient to wait.

"Next is… Talbert! Sergeant Talbert!" 

This time, the private was waving a fistful of envelopes about 2 inches thick, each a different shade of pastel.

“Over here, Vest!” a pleasant-sounding voice rang out from another foxhole nearby and Alix heard the footfalls of the messenger scrambling his way to him as well.

“That’s Bunny for ya,” Skip chortled from beside her, nodding to the speaker, a young man with a square jaw and ash-brown hair who was collecting his letters with a satisfied smile.

“Fastest guy in the company and I don’t mean with a gun. Gets around like you wouldn’t believe.” 

Alix couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows. 

Talbert was alright-looking, she supposed, but particularly special. He was no Gene Kelly and he was certainly no Joe– 

“Liebgott!” The orderly’s voice rang out, cutting through the spy's ruminations like a knife. 

"Corporal Liebgott! Anybody seen Corporal Liebgott?" 

Alix's head shot up but he was nowhere to be found. 

Moments later, the spy's head whipped around at the sound of leaves rustling and Skip snickered because it wasn't Joe she spotted coming through nearby foliage, it was just Nixon, tramping through the leaves with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.

"On his way back from an interrogation," her handler informed the orderly before taking a seat in the dirt by Lipton’s foot. 

"Just got the radio transmission. He should be here in maybe half an hour." 

"Well I'm not waiting till then," Vest replied snippily before removing the giant bag of mail he had been carrying and unceremoniously dropping it to the ground.

"I gotta take a leak." 

Turning to his left, he half-tossed the letter in Alix's direction, letting it flutter to the ground carelessly near her instead. 

"Give that to Lieb will ya?" he instructed brusquely over his shoulder. 

"You'll prolly see him before I do."

Before Alix could protest, the imperious orderly had stalked off into the brush, leaving a bewildered Alix behind with a letter that did not belong to her sitting just an arms-length away. 

It had fallen mere inches from her, the words “T/5 Joseph D. Liebgott” written in looping script on its face. 

The handwriting was unmistakably female and in the upper left-hand corner, she vaguely spotted the name Millicent along with a return address somewhere in Oakland, wherever that was. 

As the pungent scent of perfume wafted from the paper, curiosity began gnawing away at Alix’s stomach like a rapidly-fraying rope. 

Who was Millicent? 

So when Skip too vacated his spot beside her to heed nature’s call, Alix scooted to the foxhole's edge and strained an arm out to retrieve the envelope. 

Upon inspection, Alix noted quickly that surname was different-- Burke, not Liebgott-- so whoever she was, Millicent was clearly of no relation to Joe.

She was probably just a family friend or the like, writing to check up on an old acquaintance while he was at war. 

But still…Alix chewed on her bottom lip as the rumbles of jealousy stirred within her like distant thunder.  

What if it was something more? 

It doesn't matter, she scolded herself. When it comes down to it, you barely know him. And wasn't it you who said this was no time for romance? 

Nonetheless, she supposed, it couldn't hurt to just take a glance at the letter's contents. Perhaps it could help to jog her memory. The censors had already opened it anyway, after all, so it wasn't like she was tearing it open herself.

But when she turned the envelope over, her heart sank like a stone.

There, painstakingly inscribed on the flap in flowery script, was "To My Love", sealed with a berry-red lipstick print.

Alix felt her stomach lurch as she traced the lipstick and the words over and over again with her eyes, unable to believe it.

He was already spoken for.

She didn't bother to read any further.

She didn't have to.

No wonder he hadn’t written while she was at the aid station, Alix thought grimly. He probably felt too guilty. 

He had been toying with her all that time, pretending that they had been a couple, fooling her and everyone else, while all along, he had “Millicent” waiting at home for him.

And she had almost believed him.

Alix felt sick to her stomach.

Had she learned nothing from her training?

╔══ •🖤🖤•🖤🖤•🖤🖤•══╗

1 Year Earlier: October 1943. Special Operations Executive (SOE) Compound, United Kingdom.

"Lies--" Instructor Flynn began with a crack of the yardstick on the board for emphasis.

“We tell them to each other and most importantly–” the seasoned instructor paused two desks down in front of Agent Perrault, who shrank under his scrutinizing stare.

“– We tell them to ourselves." 

Clasping his hands behind his back, Flynn resumed his methodical march across the classroom floor, the rhythmic stomps of his footfalls sounding almost like drum beats. 

"Save for your handler, take no one at their word: not assets, not acquaintances, no one." 

The instructor stopped again, this time in front of Alix’s seat. His eyes seemed to bore into her but the spy lifted her chin, meeting his gaze without flinching. 

“Trust your instincts, operatives, but always verify them with facts. Self-delusion is a spy's worst enemy. Is that understood?" 

"Yes, Instructor!" 

╚══•🖤🖤•🖤🖤•🖤🖤•══╝

Contemporary: October 24th, 1944. Driel, Netherlands.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Alix jumped and turned to see Don's worried face just behind her.

"You okay, Pyro?" 

No, she wanted to say. Do I look okay to you?

But she forced a smile instead, internally seizing her heartbreak by the collar and stamping it viciously down into the dirt beneath her boots so her friend wouldn't worry.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah and I’m the president,” the freckle-faced paratrooper quipped, plopping down in Skip's vacant spot with a slight grunt.  

"So what's really going on?" 

"God, is that obvious?" Alix winced and a warm voice from behind her replied, "To us? Definitely." 

With that, Skip clambered back into the foxhole.

"Other people? Probably not."

With that, the blond poked his head over the spy's shoulder like an inquisitive child.

"So Pyro, what's the dope?" 

Alix opened her mouth to make a denial but was cut off by a frowning Don.

"And it's not nothing so you can axe that excuse." 

But the sound of a twig snapping in the shadows behind them instantly took precedence and the three instinctively shifted into a defensive position with Skip taking the center-right and Don angling to center-left with Alix dead-center.

Instinctively, the spy had already dropped the letter into her bag and retrieved her gun, cocking it with her good hand. She was still undercover as a combat nurse but according to new regulations, medics were now allowed small arms in the field. 

“Flash!” 

She could shoot to kill if she needed to. 

But luckily, this time, she didn’t need to. 

“Thunder!” 

Alix felt her chest constrict. 

She knew that voice.

“Whoa there,” Joe remarked as he entered the clearing, his sparkling eyes firmly fixed on Alix as he held up his hands in mock-surrender. 

“You really gonna shoot me, gorgeous?”

“I just might,” the heartbroken spy muttered bitterly as she lowered her gun, tucking it back into its proper place.

The flirtatious smirk playing on Joe’s face faded, replaced by a look of wounded concern that made Alix almost regret speaking to him sharply…Almost. 

“Hey," he said, softening his tone as he approached the foxhole's edge. “What’s eatin’ you, Ziskeit?” 

Her stomach twisted with a mixture of grief and rage.

How dare he pretend to care about her. She didn't need his fucking pity. 

“Nothing,” she returned coldly, avoiding his gaze as she boosted herself out of the foxhole. 

"And don’t call me that.”

Pushing past him, the agent began to limp away but Joe wouldn’t be deterred. 

“Hey, s'cuse me,” he interjected as he caught up to her, lightly catching her arm.

“D’you at least mind tellin’ me where we’re going?” 

“WE’ aren’t going anywhere,” Alix snapped, pulling out of his grasp. “And where I’M going is none of your business."

She had hoped blatant hostility might chase him off but it didn't. 

Even as she hobbled away, she could hear his footsteps crunching in the leaves behind her.

"You ain't gettin' rid of me that easy, Ziskeit," he called but Alix ignored him, gritting her teeth and continuing to trudge onward.

 

Truthfully, she wasn't sure where she was going; as long as it was away from him, it didn't matter. 

She wouldn't let him see her cry. 

But her injured ankle slowed her down considerably and he caught up to her a second time without much difficulty.

“Zees c’mere, lemme hel–” Joe began, starting to put an arm around her, presumably to help her balance, but Alix pushed his arm away.

“I don’t need your help,” she lied, trying to muster a scathing glare despite the tears pricking her eyes and the fire that seemed to engulf her swollen ankle with every excruciating step.

The sensation was nearly unbearable but she forced herself past one more foxhole when suddenly, her ankle gave out and her legs buckled beneath her.

“Cazzo!”

But to her surprise, Joe stepped in and deftly snaked an arm about her waist to steady her in one fluid motion, their faces so tantalizingly close now that she could see every shade of honey in his mesmerizing brown eyes, his lips so near that her breath caught in her throat. 

His gaze flickered down to her lips which instinctively parted like flower petals and for a second, the world around them seemed to slow as all her righteous fury melted away like snow in Springtime. 

Joe's hypnotic brown eyes drank her in with tender admiration and Alix could've sworn her heart skipped a beat at the warmth within them, like hot chocolate on a winter’s day.

When he drew her closer in his deceptively strong arms, she offered no resistance, sparks seeming to dance across her skin at his touch.

"You didn’t think I’d let you fall, did you?” he asked with a cocky smirk and Alix could feel a reluctant heat rising to her cheeks. 

But before she could get any words out, a nasal voice from nearby cut through the tension, causing the pair to jump apart.  

"Hey, Liebgott!" 

It was the orderly from earlier, Vest.

"What?" Joe snapped rather sharply and the PFC visibly withered under his glare. 

"Just-Just wanted to make sure you got your letter alright," the younger man stammered but Joe looked perplexed. 

"What letter?"

Alix came back to her senses with a jolt. 

Suddenly, the forgotten letter felt like it weighed a hundred pounds and she took a heavy step back, guilt flooding her senses.

She had been about to kiss someone else's beau. 

"This one," she said curtly, digging into her bag and handing the perfume-soaked envelope over to Joe with a weak smile.

"Sorry, I forgot." 

Eyebrows raised, he turned the envelope over in his hands and a wallet-sized photograph dropped from it onto the ground, landing face-up to reveal a young woman, maybe a year or two older than Alix, with pale green eyes and mousy brown hair falling in gentle waves over her shoulder.

Joe snatched the photo off the ground but the damage had already been done. By the time he looked up again, Alix was gone.

[stellamarium]

My F/Os and their Associated Flowers

A fun little thing I decided to do in which I associate certain flowers with my F/Os.

I used the site, hananokotoba, and while I tried to cross-reference with other sites to the best of my abilities, the meanings may not be fully accurate. I mostly chose flowers based on meaning; however, the appearance of the flowers and how well they go along with my F/Os’ designs also played a factor into them!

All flower images taken from Pexels and Unsplash

Alfonse Cosmos, White Pansy Harmony, peace, modesty, the joys that love and life can bring, beautiful, thoughts of love

Líf Purple Pansy, Purple Hyacinth You occupy my thoughts, I am sorry, sorrow, please forgive me

Louis Amamiya Red Lily, Red Tulip Warmth, desire, declaration of love, true love, eternal love, romantic love, believe me

Seox Apricot Blossom, Aster Timid love, doubt, distrust, patience, daintiness, symbol of love

Tor Hepatica, Iris Confidence, message, hope, faith, friendship, wisdom 

Diluc Ragnvindr Red Chrysanthemum, Red Geranium I love you, protection, preference

Barbatos Cornflower, Gladiolus Delicacy, refinement, strength of character, sincerity, preparedness, remembrance

SilverAsh White Jasmine, Amaryllis Amiability, sensuality, pride, splendid beauty

Zelos Wilder Pink Rose, Red Rose Grace, gratitude, happiness, I love you, love, beauty, passion, romance

[universalitgirlsblog2]

🎀💖Y/N IS THAT YOU ? 🎀💖

-Kill your old self & create a better version who is free from negativity

🎀The old me who relied on others for validation is gone forever . The old me with self-destructive habits and negative thoughts will never be seen again

💖I love myself way too much , I'm immune to self-hatred or self-doubts . Being insecure is impossible for me

🎀I am not a victim of circumstances or 3D . I control them , not the other way around

💖 I prioritize myself . I put myself always .

🎀Im independent and don't depend on anyone or anything .

💖The old me is gone now ..and I will never go back to the toxic and unhealthy cycle of negativity

🎀I don't dwell on negativity

💖I don't spiral coz the circumstances or the 3d anymore

.🎀Jennie kim , wonyoung , Alexa , Zendaya , Jia , IU , nayeon ?????? Who are they ??? I'm the only IT girl .

💖I am always chosen no matter what . I'm loved and precious .

🎀I have healed from my past experiences .

💖I am capable of everything and anything

🎀I am a girls girl , I'm a boss in a man's world ( credits to destiny Rogers >3 )

💖I am so hot , I'm so cool

🎀I am a complete new person with a perfect self concept. I know what I want , I'm the girl / guy who has it all .

💖My subconscious has been reprogrammed

🎀I only entertain favorable thoughts

💖I am consistent with persisting.

🎀I don't get easily influenced by others and don't allow anything or anyone to get to me

💖I am not miserable or jealous, why would I be ?? I'm living my dream life and have everything that I want or need .

🎀No one can block my manifestations

💖My mental health is perfect just like me >33

🎀I don't settle for less .

💖I am the best of the best , I'm Y /N

🎀 Being the best at what I do , that's sounding on brand ( credits to typagirl )

💖I am completely renewed as a person . I let go of my old self

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

First off I LOVE your writing, I’m so happy you’re taking requests again so, may I please request something with Ghost? Like the reader is part of the 141 and Ghost has a soft spot for her and is very protective of her and both having feelings for each other but not saying anything bc both think the other one deserves better or just something like that🥹😮‍💨💖🙏🏻 feel free to keep practicing smut for this one!👀✨

You’re awesome 🥰💞

Blood Was Its Avatar

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Getting close to you was never his plan, but when he can't stop his self-protective instincts from pushing you away, will he be able to repair your strange friendship? Or will his body have to speak for him? (18+)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, wounds, stitches, death, smut, p in v, throat f-ing, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, implied pain kink, hair pulling, hate sex? but not really?, semi-clothed sex, vulgar language, fluff at the end, etc. just pure filth.

A/N: This is sub-par because I was up until 4 in the morning today and didn't have the energy to edit in-depth lmfao, but enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

All of Ghost’s problems started and ended with you. He was impressed with that fact, actually. 

They call you ‘Masque’ on account of the mission from years back, ‘07 Ghost recalls easily. When you’d been pinned down and surrounded, the dead bodies of your unit all around your feet. You’d chosen to act while the others had been yelling orders over the radio—rooting around the pooling blood on the ground and slathering your face with it; your body. 

You pretended to be dead. 

Quick thinking, Ghost had told you with a glint in his eye when you’d gotten back, those whites of your eyes ten times more noticeable. Like the moon hanging around a crimson-drowned sky. 

You’d cursed him out and said of course it was, quoting some poem from Edgar Allen Poe as a joke.

“Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood.” The Masque of the Red Death. Your claim to survival apparently, as you had just read it a day before.

Ghost said you were bloody fucking crazy and found his eyes darkly watching the way you smirked at him. How the dried blood on your lips would splinter at your loud chuckle as you both entered the C17.

As he knew—all of his problems started and ended with you. Today was no different.

“Damn! Lookin’ good today Ghost, are those new gloves I spy?” You were always so…bubbly. 

“Masque,” the masked-man greats blandly, not even sparing you a look as you enter the meeting room. The screen on the far wall was hooked up to Price’s computer—broadcasting its news out into the dim lighting with images of mayhem and a loop of a video containing the bombing of an embassy building in the Netherlands. 

Profile pictures stain the screen of wanted subjects; captured or killed in the crossfire made no difference here, anyone could see it. 

You drop down into the seat beside his own with a huff, body shed of your usual black gear, and wearing casual fatigues instead—your tags jump on your chest and Ghost sees them glint in the light.

Your face shifts into a smile, prodding with a bump of your elbow. The Lieutenant turns and glares dryly while you carry on, “I asked if you got new gloves; they’re nice.” 

“Needed ‘em.” Ghost drawls, seeing no way out of this as he glances around at the multitude of other free seats. No one else was here yet, and Price had needed to step out for a moment to grab another report from his office one floor up. 

A small grunt echoes from his throat before his eyes dart back to yours. Shifting in his seat, his lax posture tenses before loosening. 

Raising a brow at Ghost, you stifle a laugh.

“That’s it?” He blinks at you slowly, those bright blues trapping you as they shine out from his skeletal visage; his great body hidden under layers of Kevlar and thick canvas cloth. Like some weird and deadly present. You tease him, “No attempt at a conversation, Ghosty? That hurts.”

You sarcastically put a hand to your chest. 

“Then suffer.” Ghost states like he’s reading the newspaper, stretching out one of his wrists by rolling it until it cracks the joints. Where was everyone else? “I’m not fuckin’ talking about bloody gloves, Masque.”

“It’s called a conversation starter!” Under the mask, he raises a dull eyebrow. You glower at him, but the smirk on your lips shows how much you enjoy this.  

“For who? Could have jus’ stayed quiet, then.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes and indulge him—pointedly going silent. Almost immediately an awkward nothingness covers the room with its metaphorical blanket and Ghost’s muscles slowly go stiff as he crosses his arms slowly over his chest. You bite your lip and stamp down a snort. 

A minute spreads like molasses. Two. Three. Five.

“Alright,” Ghost growls, breaking as you pick at your cuticles, humming horribly off-tune to a point where the Lieutenant’s ears were ringing and annoyance faired. “Fucking hell stop it, just say something already to shut up that noise. Sounds like my damn brakes squealin’.” 

You stop and laugh loudly, elbowing him again as he jerks away with a low grunt. Blue flashes, and his heart pounds.

“Jeez, Lieutenant, is my humming that bad for you?” The air rolls with tension.

“More effective than torture.” Ghost utters, his Manchester drawl violent and thick as it coats your ears. You take no offense—you’d been doing it on purpose, anyways; always the one to exploit cracks in the concrete. You'd found out a lot through your studies of the man beside you. Mostly, all of the small tics and unique qualities that made Ghost such a strange character. 

On the battlefield, the large man was resilient and patient. He could wait in one spot for days if he had to, sitting for a perfect shot. Nothing could break the line of purpose and authority he had over the units he was placed in or his fighting spirit. Gunbattles, torture, you name it he’d survived it. 

But he disliked anything below scalding hot tea, detested his objects and packs being messed with…and clenched his hidden jaw at small, repetitive, noises.

Low, horrible, humming, tapping fingers, tongues clicking over and over. You had no idea why, but the sight of making this experienced and handsome man glare at you with annoyance made your face heat up. 

You chuckle in the meeting room, eyes crinkling up at him before you reach for one of the pens and notepads on the table. Clicking the bottom, you shrug and start to scribble nothing into the side margins as blue ink bleeds like foreign blood. 

“What’s Price got for us today, then?” Your voice echoes, “We shipping out with the others or going Black again?” 

The Captain usually paired the two of you up for Black Ops for a reason—Ghost the strategic mastermind to your reckless bloodlust. Push and pull. 

Missions were rarely a failure. 

Ghost sighs, finally getting the sensation of control back into him. “Black,” he begins, “least for us. Old Man’s sending Garrick and Johnny out in hopes of drawin’ a few bastards out first. Netherlands. We slip in the back—off the books, ‘course.” 

He watches you from the side of his eye, gaze following your pen as you sketch out a small stick figure with a skull for a face. Ghost stifles a huff as he scratches at the side of his face.

“Well, of course,” you slyly tease, glancing at him before looking back to your pad. “Are we getting any soldiers?” 

“None. Just us.” 

“Ooo,” Ghost watches your lips curl and feels his body slowly still. “Sounds like fun.”

“It sounds like I’m going to have to babysit again,” you laugh again and dark blue seems to spark with some strange emotion. Ghost clears his throat and takes down a breath.

“Oh, please,” you chuckle, “I’ve saved your hide a few times before, Ghosty, be nice to me.”

“Nice isn’t in the job description, Masque.” 

“Well, it isn’t for you, grumpy. I think Johnny and Gaz are lovely.” Your nose tilts up teasingly as Ghost grumbles like a cat. “But that’s alright, I like you anyways.” Winking, you go back to your pointless scribbling as footsteps echo from the hallway. 

Ghost stares, his hands on the armrests slowly clenching into fists as he studies your expression. His eyes slid over scars and blemishes he’d already looked at a million times over, seeing in his mind’s eye the stains of blood and that every present smile—the burn of your presence beside him like a brand in his stomach. You never seemed to let him get too far away from you on Ops, but it wasn’t some form of obsession. It was worry; he’d seen it. 

You didn’t like it when you couldn’t see his back ahead of yours. Ghost guessed it had to do with your lost unit. He never pressed it. 

In fact, he’d noticed himself not eager to see you off himself. Had spent many a night in the onsite gym after missions because of it, where he’d given you the cold shoulder after. He didn’t like that feeling. That hesitation. 

Ghost knew only to trust people as much as he had to…so why did he like when you said nice things to him? His jaw clenches, shoulders rolling to dispel tension as he rips his eyes away from your body as if you were fire incarnate. Your head perks up at the sound of talking voices getting closer to the meeting room. 

Soap and Gaz enter a few moments later and Price shuffles in behind them. You smile warmly and greet them, shifting the notepad closer to yourself nonchalantly. 

Ghost grunts and stays stationary, straightening up when he realizes he's slightly leaned toward you during your conversation. His new gloves pull taunt over his knuckles and he suddenly wants to rip them off. 

—

You begin to wonder when you’ll be free from blood coating your fingers but know deep down you never will be. At least, not if this was how you’d be getting covered in it.

Sitting inside the hotel bedroom, you slowly extract a blood-coated bullet from Ghost's large thigh, grimacing when he grunts from over you. You’re in between his legs, kneeling, as the metal finally breaks free from the skin barrier—the entry wound is small but nonetheless dangerous. His pants were cut from thigh to knee, a long spit that showed pale, scarred skin. 

Keeping a tight grip on the forceps, you hum under your breath in satisfaction. 

“No bullet fragments—lucky you.” 

Ghost forces out, “Yeah, feelin’ proper lucky.” You chuckle, moving back and dropping the bullet to a food plate you’d put on the floor. Shuffling, you take up the rag placed over your upper arm and bring it back up. Patting the gushing wound, you frown and think back on the events that got you here as the Lieutenant shifts and bites his tongue. 

The intensity in his blue eyes burns into you, lungs deeply inhaling with a silent breath. Your fingers tingle, but you diligently press the fabric to the wound and try to ignore the heat from Ghost’s flesh or how his legs flinch with every trail of your nails. His muscles are pure iron around you, and you’re suddenly very aware of the position you’re in. 

Swallowing stiffly, you sigh and notice him slightly shiver when your breath caresses his upper leg. You stop immediately, lips going tight.

It had been fifteen minutes earlier when Soap and Gaz had set up in a far more open and less secluded hotel three blocks away—directly across from the base location for your gaggle of targets. As planned, you and Ghost would be off the books and go in when they were too distracted by the Sergeants’ in plain sight. 

Fire was supposed to be the cover story. Go in, take care of business, and set the place alight after the area was clear of civilians. But no one was counting on the targets being surrounded by three more friends. 

Of course, guns lead to bullets and bullets to flesh. You can still hear the ringing in your head when Ghost had jerked you to the slide and shoved you behind the far wall—skull snapping back to look in horror as his leg exploded with gore. 

Fucking bastard had been distracted by you and hadn’t had time to dodge. That wasn’t Ghost, but then again, Ghosty wasn’t quite the same, was he? Least, not to you.

“You’re a fool, you know that?” You huff, something swirling in your chest as your gloves peel the layer of cut pants farther down to see better. “You should have looked after yourself.”

“And what?” Ghost grumbles, letting you do what you wanted to him.  “Let you get fuckin’ shot, Masque—you have a bloody death wish?” His last word comes off with a growl as you press tighter into his thigh. 

His hand instantaneously snaps out to grasp the back of your hair tightly with an instinctual low groan. Naturally, a small whine exits your lips in retaliation.

You both freeze and the room jumps up to a hundred degrees; your lower body flips as your skin burns a million degrees. Fingers still, you feel your breath hitch when his calloused fingers scrape your scalp, your hair in his expansive palm. It was a pure reaction you knew, and when you’d asked him to let you help out with this problem you had thought this might happen—he’s a soldier after all, just like you.

But he hadn’t denied you. If anything, since six missions back, you were the only person who he wanted to work on him. He’d never said why. 

You look up at him from the side, eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. Ghost’s heart skips beats before he clears his throat, snapping his hand back immediately and slamming it to the mattress. A second of strained silence settles where you both try to forget what the fuck just happened.

“Keep bloody going then,” He says, deep and grating to a point where you shove down a shiver. Your head feels light off of his scent, and you have to ask yourself why you’re feeling so feverish all of a sudden. 

You bite your lip and nod, hand moving away to grab at the sanitized needle and thread with your forceps—dropping the rag back onto your forearm to let it hang. For once in your life you’re left mute by his actions. 

Mute to the fact that you’d liked them. 

Your face burns like a hidden fire; epidermis alight with the strength to rival the flames the two of you had started fifteen minutes ago. Lungs stutter and hands inside the gloves go clammy. It’s only after you were halfway done with the stitches that you mutter words.

“Shouldn’t have taken that bullet, Ghost.” He had been stone still the entire time, hands clenched beside him and his thighs like rocks. Feet firmly planted. It was like he was barely breathing, too. 

Ghost blankly stares, staying quiet as you continue. 

“You were distracted. That never happens.” His form was almost entirely shadowing you; great spanning shoulders from above tight like a looming statue. You dig the needle deeper with a push of the forceps, threading through yielding skin with quick punctures. He doesn’t even flinch. 

Ever since ‘07, there was an obvious aversion to partners stemming from you. You distanced yourself from forming close bonds with those who you hadn’t already known. In many ways, Ghost and the others of One-Four-One were the closest you could get to people now.

Ghost, you admit, was far closer than all the others combined. 

But this sentiment was known—both the aversion and the care you held. The Lieutenant wasn’t good with words, but he knew how to read you better than anyone; the way you carried yourself. He knew you didn’t like it when he got hurt in front of you. 

Ghost had to ask why he even bothered to shove you out of the way, regardless. You would have been fine. So why had his eyes gone wide and his iris flared with a dead glow when he’d seen the gun swivel in your direction? The man grunts at a deep dig from your sutures but you continue to mutter to yourself as he glares at the far wall, venom-like. 

His sin was that he had grown to care about you. His burden and his curse. 

This couldn’t continue. 

Ghost looks down at you with a sheen of distanced nonchalant-ness and when you lent back with a sigh of your lips, his body moved. You blink in surprise as you feel his muscles bunch and before you know it you’re being grabbed harshly by the arms and lightly shoved to the side. 

“Ghost!” You snap, eyes narrowing dangerously as he stands to his feet—blood training down his thigh and kneecap before disappearing back under the stained cargos. “What the fuck?! I’m not done with it.” 

Attempting to stomp closer, he swivels his head to you as his spine goes formal. Your feet stall from under you and your veins pump faster, forceps and slick gloves freezing mid-air. 

You blink. He’d only ever looked at you like that when you’d first met. 

Blue is a silent sheen of ice and cold death; black sockets behind his mask are more like voids holding chilled sapphires. 

Why was he looking at you like he didn’t know you? Once more you say, confused and suddenly small, “Ghost?” 

“Enough.” His voice was monotone and barky, the tone final. Your fingers tense at the sound. What…what was this? “You need to get your head back on, Masque. I can’t watch over you like a bloody Private every time you get stiff-legged, copy?” 

Your jaw slackens. Inside, your heart smashes itself into your ribs in a violent pang. There’s a moment of complete and utter silence in which Ghost remains standing with concrete tied to his feet. He sees the flash of confused hurt in your eyes, the way your muscles jump for a moment.

A suffocating wave of regret strikes him, but he felt like he had to do this—keep up boundaries. Even if his throat was closing in an attempt to make him shut up. 

Ghost’s accent makes him sound harsh and unforgiving. “Price’ll need us back in fifteen. Get your shit together.” 

He bends down and snatches bandages with a quick hand, beelining to the bathroom and closing the door with a firm hand. Blankly, you stare at the barrier as the wall rattles; face burning—unable to speak beyond a small sound in the back of your mouth. 

The two of you stay separated for the remainder of the time, not speaking, and not moving from your respective areas. 

When Ghost finally leaves ten minutes after he’d pushed back the self-loathing and guilt, freshly bandaged, he finds your stuff already gone. He glances around the area slowly, taking in the wails of the fire trucks from blocks away and the neighboring rooms of the hotel as residents speak in mutters from behind walls. The air is cold and lifeless. 

He grabs his things in total silence, swallowing down saliva paired with long breaths. Ghost’s eyes remain tight. Body wound and coated in rigidity that could rival a rhino’s armored plates.

Mind whirling, but still ever mute, he leaves the hotel and heads to the coordinates Price had given the two of you alone. The absence of your warm body beside his was more jarring than anything he’d expected to experience.

Ghost didn’t want to admit how many times his eyes trailed to the empty concrete at his left.

—

When you lose something in someone, you tend to lose it hard. Thus still, that was the case here. Ghost and you always jabbed at each other—it was in your nature to do so—but this was different. The Lieutenant could be cold, but…never to the extent to shove you away from helping him with his wounds. 

Both of you always did that with the other, if that be physically or just being in the same room, while getting fixed up. 

If Ghost didn’t want you around for whatever rage-inducing reason, you weren't going to grovel or beg. The sudden switch-up still stabbed you in the heart though. 

On the second week, it got easier. 

You passed by Ghost without a single comment, shifting into the meeting room once more. He grunts as you shimmy through the door right before him, his feet halting before he runs into you. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Masque, you lost your bloody eyes or something?” You don’t answer, blankly walking to the end of the table and taking the single chair with steady steps; sitting down and dragging a notepad to your general area. 

Blinking, you look up at the projection and skim the small details they give over. 

Ghost stares from the doorway, clenching his jaw. After a moment, he slips inside and slowly strides to the table. 

The days had been difficult for him, struggling to re-situate himself to his isolation after you’d been with him for years. Sure he had Johnny, Gaz, and Price, but you were…

Ghost places a veiny hand on the back of a chair about four down from yours, knuckles white as he’d shed his gloves not five minutes ago. His eyes stay stuck to the tabletop, hips shifting. He hadn’t thought it would be this hard to push you out. Not only physically but mentally. 

He found himself thinking of your face at night. Like a phantom, it would snap into his consciousness when the lights went out and the shadows got long. Your smile and your skin. How your fingers would gently press into his flesh when you were threading a needle through him—shivers of pleasure and pain intertwined by the scrape of your nails. 

Ghost’s hand tightens on the chair, and you spare him a tense glance as he seemingly fights within his mind. 

The Lieutenant wonders at your willpower and your drive. He spent the weeks hating that he had gotten what he wanted, and then he hated himself more because of that fact. It was good to keep you away from him. Not only for himself but for you. 

You both were becoming too….attached. Ghost would have none of it. It had bled over into him using his own body to protect yours that was just…was just…

“...Those new tags, then?” You look away from the screen and shift your gaze to him as his voice bounces. 

Around your neck, the new reflective metal of your new dog tags glint. Your heart skips when he speaks to you, but he still doesn’t look your way.

“That an apology?” Deadpanning, your unimpressed gaze glares into his face as his hand strangles the chair. 

The room returns to strained silence. You huff.

“Pretty shitty one there, asshat.” Ghost’s shoulders roll under his gear, a great sigh quickly exiting him. Everyone had noticed the tension over time—it was becoming a detriment to the team.

The Lieutenant’s blue eyes darken, and in his body, a great heat was beginning to burn. Just looking at you provoked lucid and vulgar thoughts, and as the dim light from the projector makes shadows on your face, Ghost traces them with a chained desire. Being away from you was a physical pain to him, but he also knew that being around you was worse. 

All of Ghost’s problems may have started and ended with you, but they also grew in his own head. They’d been there in the back corners ever since he’d given you your nickname; found out he liked the way your face was wet with spilled blood and sweat. Your body. Your hands on the hard flesh of his upper thigh…trailing up... 

Ghost’s pants get tight as he stares without saying anything. Watching you scribble on your notepad. Glaring. 

“Why can’t I get you out of my fucking head?” Your ears twitch at the low growl as if coming from a beast; seconds later, your brain catches up to process the words. Your pen stops its pointless scrawling just as your breath does. Ghost spits out, seeing your form straighten in the chair, “Every bloody thought, you’re right there!” 

His boots stomp to the floor, and before you know it a hand is trapping the back of your head, fingers carding through hair to angle your chin up. Your breath gasps out as your wide eyes lock on Ghost’s, his hold tight but not uncomfortable; as if he knows the perfect amount of pressure to make your blood surge and your pupils expand.

You stare into volatile blue with silver flecks, a skeletal mask stained from dirt and blood. Ghost’s thumb digs into your scalp. 

“Answer me, Masque,” he grunts, accent so thick you momentarily struggle to string the words together in your stupor. 

Ghost’s nose is close to yours; breathing in each other’s air as the temperature rises. Your throat bobs with a swallow. Below you, you feel your legs clench together as the Lieutenant's fingers lightly pull on your roots when you don’t respond—small sparks of electricity run down your spine that make it straighten instinctually. A soft purr flies from your lips; face on fire as your lashes flutter. Your hands clench at the dull pulse in your lower body.

The Brit’s dead eyes stare down at you, glinting; studying you deeply with growing satisfaction in his heart and tension in his boxers. 

You both glare half-lidded, panting, and flesh heated. 

“Is this your apology?” He tightens his hand and you bite your lip, small whine meeting his ears as he represses a groan at the sound. Your voice was breathy but smug. 

“You fucking wanted this, you naughty little beast,” Ghost growls, moving even closer to tower over you. “You’re playin’ me.” You mold into him as you still sit in your chair, your chin set onto his upper abdomen as the midsection of your breasts presses into his crotch; brushing against his hardened bulge firmly. 

You shiver at the feeling, your core leaking out slippery fluids to stain through your pants one second at a time. Every twitch of his fingers leaves you wanting to arch into him. Feel him.

Ghost feels your hands go to wrap his open thighs, nails digging into the back of his pants as his mouth opens under the mask to force out air. 

“You liked me in between your legs, didn’t you?” Your tiny, teasing, voice serenades him as he quickly begins to lose control of his composure. 

“Shut it,” Ghost grunts, mind yelling at him to move away, “Shut your damn mouth.” 

Those pupils were so wide his eyes were almost entirely black, feral chest moving quickly. 

“I already know why you snapped at me…” One of your hands travels back to the Lieutenant’s front, skin tingling at the scratch of a belt and the rough fabric of his cargos. You leave it over his crotch and add a tight amount of pressure; mouth lightly opening at the weight and size of him as Ghost grunts deeply, thighs jerking forward. 

Blinking at his glassy eyes you breathe out into thick air and the veiled threat of something more. His hand in your hair is so tight that you feel your pulse under the tendrils—you enjoy every second of this cat-and-mouse game. 

After all, no one knew who the mouse was yet.

You rub your hand up and down and watch Ghost’s clothed dick, feeling his muscles straining to keep himself in control. He lets you continue as he watches with a clenched jaw, his pants getting gradually wet with precum; hips twitching. 

“...You can’t get enough of me touching you, can you?” Your statement ignites something immediately, and you’re being grabbed by your shoulders and forced to your feet. 

Staring wildly, you cringe at the soaking patch under your clothes but let Ghost place your backside on the table. He presses into your hips to keep you there—legs opened and feet planted to the floor below on their tip-toes.

The man breathes like a lion, nose in front of yours. You slightly smirk at the far-off haze in his eyes, lust and pleasure blending and bleeding into the almost bruising hold he uses to press you down.

He watches you for a minute or two—taking in your scent and the rabid instinct that infects the both of you now that everything was on the table. 

You knew you were right; he knew you were right. Licking your lips you look down and stare at his blatant hard-on hungrily. Your brow raises slowly.

“You going to let me take care of that, Ghosty?” He’s up and locking the door after he slims it shut.

“This is it,” Ghost grunts, “one time, Masque. That’s fucking it, you hear?” 

“Awe,” You cue, swishing your legs as he stomps back over, hand grasping his belt and whipping it off with a flex of his forearm. Your core tightens, hips trying to press back into the table. “That's so cute. You think once is enough.” 

A hand captures your jaw, “I said,” he breathes, the other hand going to shift up the bottom of his mask up to his nose. You gasp at the sight of blond stubble and milky scars. A strong jaw wound like a spring. Ghost’s musk invades your nose and you feel your palms so clammy. “...Shut it.”

Hard lips slam into yours.

Like some game between the two of you, your mouths fight one another with aggressive grunts stuck in your throats, sharp inhales of air between partings. Ghost’s lips mold and conform to yours, clinging around the supple flesh—there’s a deep-rooted intensity, a hunger, and a desire mixed with sweet stubbornness. The tang of metal and old canvas opens to you just as your mouth does when his teeth bite down at your skin.

Quickly sucking down breaths, you feel his tongue push past layers and slip into your awaiting clutch; Ghost groans lowly and explores as his hands bare down into your hips, one making its way to grip at your hair again. Your own dig into his waist as he leans over you. 

He latches onto your hair and peels you back from him, tongue sliding out of your mouth as he moves to nip at your chin—angling your head whichever way he wants to. Your skin burns as the man bites down at your neck, hot saliva stuck to your lips as your chest pants fast with a low whine at the mixture of pain and bliss. 

Below you, your legs are wide to allow Ghost to stand between you, his firmness leaving your hips canting at every hickey he leaves behind and how he shivers into you as you move against him. It was addicting to him—your taste and how your flesh yields to him as he clamps down on it ruthlessly and rapidly. In no time he’d traveled the length of the area behind your ear and down the swell of your shoulder; shirt pushed back by his nose.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, eyes glassy as you blankly stare into the far wall over the Lieutenant’s shoulder; your panties are soaked through and the evidence can be felt. A long whine exits your chest when Ghost licks at the deep marks he left behind, blown eyes coming back to stare at you head-on as if in a trance.

His lips are red and swollen, mouth open with silent, fast, breaths. His large chest moves quickly over yours. He orders you in a hoarse voice; strained, “Get on your knees.” 

Licking your lips your widened gaze stays locked on his, the hand in your hair tight and keeping you away from slamming your mouth back to his. The air is electric, both of your bodies yielding to one another's even if you don’t realize it. 

As much as you wanted to scoff and roll your eyes at the comment, to make him apologize to you for what he’s done, you realize that your body has already complied with the request. Slipping off the table, Ghost watches like a hawk and backs up two steps—feet splayed as you move for him. Your knees slowly lower you down to the floor, connecting with the carpet as you sag, fists clenched and shaking. 

There’s a small, heart-pounding, pause. “...Good girl.”

Your jaw drops at the smirk on Ghost’s face and those flashing dead eyes of his, blood thumping with a newly ingrained need. You swallow and feel your throat bob; legs shifting to push back the inner-body itch that grows by the second. 

“Now you can listen to me, yeah? Such a slut for it.” Ghost’s hands slowly trail to his pant’s zipper, sliding the piece down the teeth with barely audible metal on metal. Your fingers twitch at every small pop; how the zipper itself had to move forward with the strain of his sizable erection. You can’t even look away from it—how his pants are stiff against tense thighs and the sleeves of his shirt are rucked up to show the black ink of tattoos.

Ghost had tattoos. 

When the teeth had run out and the man’s hands grappled for the waistband of both his cargo and his boxers, you’d found out you’d been staring the entire time, pupils so wide they matched Ghost’s and the black stain of his face-paint. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Masque,” he grunts, knuckles white and going still, “bet your pretty little cunt is soaked and I ‘aven’t even shown you my bloody dick yet, eh? Well, the thing’ll ‘ave to wait, I’m puttin’ that mouth to good use first. Teaching it who to listen to.”

You startle back, blinking away the burning heat on your cheeks that leaves you uncharacteristically stuttering at the vulgar degradation. But Ghost doesn’t notice, doing what he can to move the various straps along his thighs and his upper hips to be able to free himself quickly—eager and dripping to be down your throat. 

The throat and mouth he’d fantasized about for ages. 

Stiffing down a whiny moan, you finally see the veiny girth of Ghost’s cock as it comes free over the top of the tight white cotton of his boxers; a happy trail extending up his visible abdomen when his wrist snatches it out. 

“Put to good use?” You breathe out, “Christ, you’re going to make me fucking mute, Ghosty.” 

“Well, Sweetheart,” he breathes a sigh of relief as he plays with the leaking tip with his thumb. Your hands itch to brush against your achy clit, the pressure in your chest almost enough to make you sob at the sheer nothingness. Sweat glistens over your forehead. Eyes glare at you as you watch thighs tense and loosen. “That’ll be fine by me. Don’t need you speaking when I’m paintin’ your damn cunt with my cum, do I?” 

Jesus, you both were in the fucking meeting room. Going to fuck in the meeting room. 

You lick your lips and stare as Ghost stalks close again, gripping your chin and opening your jaw with his thumb and first finger. His dick was right in front of you, and you can smell sex and sweat like an animalistic aphrodisiac as it coats your brain with lust as you moan out. 

Your arms tense with a want to reach and touch it, watch as Ghost falls apart below the twist of your wrist. It was so addictive you feel yourself clench at the visual, your body shivering violently. 

“Oi, fucking focus.” Your tongue sneaks out and licks Ghost’s finger and he feels his grip tighten on you with a puff of hot air. “Little brat.” 

He stares into your mouth and breathes deeply as a smirk peels the edges of your lip. Blue swirls with anticipation. 

“Keep it open, then.” Ghost’s hand drops from you and you easily keep your mouth open as his hand goes back to his cock, grasping it firmly as the other finds the top of your head. You shiver and shift your thighs under you, your body striking like a drum to oxycontin and adrenaline. “That’s a girl…” The Lieutenant growls, and the tip of his dick slips into your saliva-dripping mouth with hidden fever. “Fuck.” 

Your eyes flutter at the taste, letting him maneuver your face closer to the base as your hands snap to his thighs—nails digging in and eliciting a sharp inhale as you press into the two-week-old wound under his pants. Ghost curses under his breath but watches in flooding pleasure at the image of his cock disappearing farther and farther into you. Inch by inch you tell yourself to breathe through your nose; feeling the make of his veins and the mushroomed tip traveling farther and farther back. 

Moaning in the base of your neck, Ghost instinctually jerks his hips at the sound, feral grunts trapped in his chest. Your eyes go wide with the prickle of tears, not from pain but from the surprise as you gag. His hold on your hair tightens and you mewl as he continues to lose himself to the feeling of your wet heat. 

He was so big it was like your throat was ripping new sinews just for him, and you reveled in every moment of the feeling of his predatory gaze.

“So bloody tight for me—can’t wait to be in that cunt of yours…can’t be better than this. Have to test it.” He talks more when he’s horney. 

Slightly gagging again at the sheer size, his palming hand presses you deeper and you take him as well as you’re able, still space between your nose and his pelvis as your knees dig harder into the ground. Ghost groans gutturally, head slightly lulling back and panting like a dog, looking down at your red eyes and far-off gaze. Your hands kneed his upper thighs and he smirks slowly. 

Without another word and with sweat staining him under his uniform, bits and bobs from his gear start to clink together and dance as his hips set a rough pace; you find your head being puppeteered back and forth with his thrusts as your scalp flames from his hold. Tears burn immediately.

“Yeah, that’s it—such a good little slut for me, Masque. Gettin’ it down, fuck,” Ghost pants, as you hollow your cheeks, back arching into you and leaving your nostrils flaring to take down air for your spasming lungs. The sight above you was sinful. 

Your Lieutenant in full gear, pants and skin-tight boxers stretching and shoved down just under the clutch of his crotch. With every back-and-forth motion, the zipper grazes the underside of your engorged throat as every vein can be undoubtedly seared into your esophagus like a brand. 

Ghost’s eyes flutter and flinch, but never once does his hazy gaze leave your mouth as he continues to jerk your head back and forth. Saliva drips drown your chin and the nearly painful burn in your navel lets you know how true this was a relief not only for Ghost but for you as well. You wanted to touch yourself, but you can’t stop touching the Brit—not for a second. Shit, you think you could fall apart just by looking at this; you were sure Ghost was thinking the same thing. 

“Look at that, makin’ such a fucking mess of you.” His abdomen tightens and rolls with every jerk and rut, and your eyes roll back with a deep whine in the back of your throat when he hits the back of your throat. Sweat splatters down your temple as the air is steeped with animalistic desperation. Ghost whines thickly in answer and seems to speed up as your hands claw at his thighs. “You like that, pet? Huh? Being my little cock-sleeve.” 

Your nails dig deeper into his flesh and he shivers wildly; eyes flash at the sight of himself disappearing into you and exiting just after as the slap of wet skin reverberates. The tension in his chest increases and he starts to desperately kneed at your hair. 

“If I’d known you’d take it down like this, I’d-I’d have made you hate me sooner, yeah?” Tension fizzles up his jaw and you know he’s close by how he bites down into his lip and tilts his head back. 

Instinctual tears travel down your sweat-slick face, the thought of being used like this vulgar and as dirty as the sounds that echo in your throat and strike down your spine. 

“Fucking hell,” Ghost gasps, and his pace stutters as he twists your locks. Your teeth graze along his flesh as you dig your thumb into his wound to steady yourself. Whining loudly, the action seems to get to the man using your mouth for his pleasure, as not three rough thrusts later the warm feeling of his cum splatters the back of your throat in thick, hot, spurts. 

Choking for a moment, the widening of your eyes meets Ghost’s fluttering lashes from above. His free hand goes behind you to slam onto the tabletop; back curved over you as he shakes and sputters as he rides out his high. 

Cum drips out of the seams of your stretched lips, and with a deep breath through your nose, your hand lowers from Ghost’s thighs as you carefully pull your face back from his pelvis. The sensation of his cock leaving your mouth and bringing saliva and his fluids with it was animalistic at best, they spill to the floor and off of your chin like a small river. 

Licking your lips, you swallow what you can and try to catch your breath as your chest rages. Blinking rapidly, your eye twitches as you bring a hand up to your sore and ragged throat, Ghost’s heaving body stiff and hunched as he stares at the table blankly. Sweat dribbles down the side of his nose, sneaking out from under the top side of his mask. 

There’s a long minute of nothingness as you both try to breathe and understand the gravity of what you’ve both done. And then you both lock eyes and stare. 

The air stills over as Ghost’s large pupils stare at the mess on your face—seeing it drip down your throat as you tilt your chin up to him. His chest purrs like a cat and you don’t even think he realizes that he does it. 

Two seconds later you’re being manhandled up to the top of the table, backside hitting it as a hand goes to your belt. Lips connect with yours and groan at the taste, the clinking of metal hitting your ears as you submit to his prodding tongue as it licks along your inner flesh. 

Your fingers snap to trail around Ghost’s neck, moaning into him as he slips his hands into your pants, pulling back and ordering, “Up.” Eager and filled with lust, you raise your legs and he rips them down to your knees, dragging you closer to the edge. 

“Good girl.” He smirks, black-smeared eyes creased. If you could speak you’d tell him to shut up and fuck you already. 

Your slick skin meets the air and you gasp, Ghost’s hands waste no time trailing up the flesh of your hips, pitching to make you jump. Glaring, you try to drag him back into you but he’s built like stone, clicking his tongue. When his fingers collect the fluids that drip out of you, you whimper at the stimulation—two calloused fingers getting entranced by that as they stop at your clit. You stare desperately into amused blue eyes as he pressed deep, your thighs tensing as they jerk. 

“Any more of this and you’ll stain the table, won’t you, Sweetheart? I get you this worked up, yeah? Bloody hell.” You pant, and lines form on your forehead at the indecent circling of his fingers; not being gentle as he sees your mouth open and your lungs gasp. Sharp spikes form in your thighs, and they move in tandem with Ghost. “Look at that…” 

Deep chuckles mock you, but you both know this has to be fast—and with how worked up you were, it would be. 

“Alright, then, brat,” Ghost takes his hand away and you whimper before he grunts and grips you by the shoulders. Your lust turns to confusion. “Suppose you did well. Let’s make this quick, eh? Got work to do.” 

Flipped around, you squeak as your clothed chest meets the table, ass presented as your feet scramble to connect with the floor. Surprised, you whip your head to the side to stare back at a highly smug Ghost as one of his hands goes to grab onto your supple flesh, massaging it before it sneaks to your hip. 

“Easy with it, I’ll take care of you, Masque.” In little to no time he’s lining himself up with your dripping pussy, so wet it’s easy except for the fact that he’s huge enough to make you mute by a blowjob. Your back arches into the table with a long moan as the length slowly spears you open, instinctually widening your legs as best as you’re able. 

Closing your eyes, you press one of your hands to your mouth to stifle your noises, thighs spasming as Ghost curses under his breath; gear clinking into each other.

“So bloody tight.” With a swift thrust and a knock of your pelvis to the edge of the table, your eyes burn with the feeling of holding Ghost in your most intimate area and the knowledge that he would completely wreck it for anyone else. Your lungs fight for air, but a long mewl exits your fingers as the man shakes over you with restraint. “Christ.”

Tight wasn’t the way to describe it—you were like a fucking noose. Your sensitive walls know every vein and bulge, the scrape and dig, far more intimately than your throat ever could. Like a carved stamp, they’re reforming to Ghost’s dick every second. 

Tapping the side of your forehead to the table, the man can’t help himself anymore and starts to thrust into you; feral squelching and fluids staining the top of his pants. Your face burns, the rocking of the table hypnotic as your toes fight to stay on the ground. The sensation of being so full truthfully made your mind go blank, fingers twitching as Ghost continued to palm at your hip—his other hand going to press into your spine, keeping you stapled to the table. 

His gear slammed and rubbed into your ass, bruising it no doubt, but you found you didn’t care at all. Pleasure rocked down with every ruthless intrusion. 

“Can feel ya ‘round my cock,” you keen at the words, tears dribbling down the side of your face as you try to hold back sobs of pleasure. Ghost increases his pace, rabid slapping echoing off the walls as he feels his sole focus on your mind-shattering bliss. “Can’t have ‘em hear how loud you are, now, can we? Can’t let ‘em know I’m shagging you in their meeting room like a little fucktoy, eh?” 

He angles his hips higher, pushing your farther up the table as his hands only drag you back. Every moment leaves your core tightening even more; molten heat pooling as the edge gets closer. 

Footsteps echo down the hall outside, but both of you are too focused on the other and the ache that only increases like a pair of cuffs. Your mouth lets loose insistent gasps and moans while Ghost breathily groans at every other interval of his ravaging cock as it brushes your cervix. 

You whine loudly, spine arching and legs desperately trying to close. Ghost chuckles and your reaction spurs him on—hitting that same spot over and over again as you sob. 

“Right there, yeah? That it, Masque?” You nod rapidly, and the Lieutenant's grip tightens with a loud grunt, “Fuck, that’s it, bloody slut.” 

The coil in your gut gets tighter, shining with desperate shakes of your body and the numb way you try to meet Ghost’s thrusts before you entirely lose the plot of reality. 

“You’re close,” he breathes, feeling your pussy trying to keep him in, slick trailing down the insides of your thighs and transferring to the Brit’s clothes. His boxers were soaked. “C’mon, then. Don’t disappoint me, Masque. Lemme see you cum on my cock before I fill you up like the good girl you are, yeah?”

Your body spasms, thighs tensing and toes curling at the floor; fingers scratching down the table as you press over your mouth harder in a last-ditch effort to remain in control of yourself. The coil snaps and suddenly you’re digging your forehead into the wood below you, orgasm ripping through you like a knife as cum paints Ghost’s dick as he continues his relentless chase of his second release.

“There it is, fuck, look at all that, Love. Paintin’ me like a naughty fuckin’ portrait.” Ghost gasps, a hand coming up to connect to the table by your head, feeling you completely flood his pelvis—he doesn’t stop even when you whine in overstimulation, fucked-out eyes wide and mouth dripping drool into a small pool. The milky ring at his root grows and grows. With a loud moan, he looks down and watches the vulgar sight rabidly, pounding into your heat as his own end gets closer and closer. 

“Shite,” His forehead hits your spine, taking the skin into his teeth and biting hickeys as his open mouth leaves trails of saliva. “Took me so bloody well, cunt was made just for me.” 

His body shakes and with one last shove from his hips, he spills into you with a loud whimper muffled into your flesh. Teeth biting down so hard that you moan in turn, the spent releases dribble out of you like a stuffed bird. You feel his chest atop you as he places his weight slowly down; the fast-panting mirroring your own. 

Sweat connects the two of you as it bleeds through your clothes, the smell in the air and the scent of delirious sex staining your bodies. 

Your mouth remains open and hoarse, scraped dry. Ghost above you moves delicately as he pulls back up, moving back to peel your messy hair away from your blown eyes. After a moment his small voice hits you—the accent deep. 

“All good?” Your eyes slowly rove to him as he kisses your forehead, shivering violently as he slips out of you; the wet drip of cum hits the carpet in the still silence as you whimper at the feeling. “...Masque?”

Dull concern emanates from his tone and you blink back. You clear your throat and utter in a torn voice, “...P-pretty good apology, Ghosty…S…shit.” 

Smugness burns in his orbs, but the roll of his eyes hides it quickly. The puff of his chest couldn’t be hidden from you, though. 

His hands reach down and hike up your panties and cargos—both items completely wrecked. The large splotch on Ghost’s own clothes showed you that you weren't alone in that aspect. 

As he carefully flips your limp form back over and pulls you up by your arms, you groan in annoyance but shut up when his hands go to zip your zipper and clip back your belt. 

“Couldn’t have had a revelation in your barracks room?” You huff, itching at your throat. “You’re buying me cough drops, you ass.” The state of your voice was laughable. Anyone would know what happened if they spoke to you. 

Ghost sighs and begins with his own clothes, stuffing himself back into his boxers and growling at the chilled fluids on his pants as he pulls them back up. He goes and retrieves his belt before walking back. 

“Acting like you weren’t beggin’ for it.” He slides you a smirk before he grabs onto his mask and begins to cover his jaw. 

Your hand snaps out and stops him. Ghost startles, eyes flashing before his muscles stiffen. You raise a brow and he slightly calms. 

Scoffing, you lean in and place a final kiss on his lips—a tinier and tender kiss. Gaze wide, the man stares off as his heart starts to beat fast again at the firm press. After you’re done your hand goes up and grasps the fabric yourself, carefully re-shrouding the mystery of a man with a smile. 

He watches blankly.

“We okay?” You ask, tilting your head as your lower body aches when you shift on the table. “I miss my annoyingly gruff Ghost. This new one’s a jerk.” A small laugh graces your ears, and it makes you beam. “I know why you did it,” you admit, and hold out a hand between your bodies. “But pushing me away will only hurt the both of us. Let's try this, Ghost. Please.” 

“...You’re makin’ it seem like a good deal, Love…is it?” He holds out a hand of his own, large and scarred hands that had gripped you so tight before utterly loose and awaiting. 

“No clue,” you admit with a smirk, “Wanna figure it out?” Ghost watches as he always does and always will, searching into your eyes for any hint of hesitance or denial. 

“Always liked a challenge.” He grunts and encompasses his hand with yours. You squeeze it and nod, chest light as your normal breath comes back.

“You know what a real challenge is? Trying to take down your fucking dic—” The meeting room handle jiggles and you both snap into action. 

Ghost tosses you your notepad and you slide a shoved-away chair his way on shaky legs, slipping into a free seat with failing knees. You both sit side by side on the opposite side of the table, shoulders bumping and faces hot not three seconds later. Ears twitch at the sound of a key entering the slot. 

You try to act normal and begin messing around with your notepad, stealing a pen from Ghost’s gear as Price opens the door. At the sight of the two of you, he pauses and stands in the doorway.

“Ghost…Masque.” With a squint, Price looks around the room slowly, confused at the rod-straight spine from his Lieutenant and the way you awkwardly scribble nothing onto your pad. 

“Price,” Ghost utters as you look up and fake smile, waving as you tighten your hips under the table in an attempt to hide the evidence spilling out of you. 

The Captain continues to stare, scrutiny in his eyes, for at least a full minute. 

“Problem, then?” The Lieutenant asks. Price’s lips thin and he gains a sheen of deep annoyance. You groan under your breath and knock your head to the table at the next comment.

“In the fucking meeting room?!”

TAGS:

@emerald-valkyrie , @anna-banana27 , @blueoorchid , @cryingnotcrying , @writeforfandoms , @homicidal-slvt , @jade-jax , @frazie99 , @elmoees , @littlemisstrouble , @alpineswinter , @phoenixhalliwell , @idocarealot , @lavalleon , @facelessmemories , @h-leigh, @20forty9 , @glitter-anon-asks , @emily-who-killed-a-man , @neelehksttr, @aeneanc , @escapefromrealitysm , @i-d-1-0-t , @pparcxysm , @hawkscanendme , @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney , @sanfransolomitatm , @maelstrom007 , @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet , @pheobees , @glitterypirateduck , @uselsshuman , @fan-of-encouragement , @halfmoth-halfman , @ghostlythunderbird , @I-inkage, @pukbadger , @kopatych11 , @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop , @knightofsexyness , @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons , @330bpm-whiplash , @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu , @tiredmetalenthusiast

[valkyrieromanoff]

Bad ideia right?: master!anakin x padawan!reader

synopsis: Sharing a room with your master didn’t seem like a bad idea, right? But when Anakin steps out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel hanging on his hips, things quickly spiral into uncharted territory. As the tension between you thickens and lines between duty and desire blur, you’re left questioning whether this might have been a very bad idea after all.

warning: master x padawan trope (sorry, power imbalance), inexperienced reader, dominant Anakin, handjob, practically only smut, almost no plot.

words: 1.8k

a/n: So... this idea came to my mind randomly with an edit of some character by Hayden Christensen, and, since I'm obsessed with Anakin, obviously, he was the chosen one. Anyway, I hope you like it, and thanks for the comments on James Kelly's oneshot, I'm working on a sequel. Kisses💖

𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏' 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕?

𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏' 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒕, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆

Sharing a room with your master hadn't seemed like a bad idea earlier in the night. After all, just hours ago, the two of you were shivering outside the small hotel, waiting for the Council to deliberate on whether it was even possible to send a rescue. The cold had bit through your robes, and with the Council's decision delayed, the promise of warmth had seemed worth the minor inconvenience.

Anakin, somehow, had managed to scrounge up a few credits, not enough for separate quarters but just enough to rent a single room. The thought of sharing didn’t raise any concerns, even though there was only one bed. It wasn’t all that different from the countless nights spent camping during missions, except that Master Kenobi or Rex usually are close by.

But now, sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped only in a loose shirt that barely skimmed your thighs, you were beginning to rethink that assumption. Your Jedi robes were draped neatly over a chair in the corner. You hadn’t packed any extra clothes, not imagining you'd need them, and as you sat there, nerves started to flutter in your chest.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts, and your heart stuttered in your chest. Anakin stepped out, a wave of warm, humid air spilling into the room with him. His sandy, wavy hair was damp, droplets of water trailing lazily down his bare chest, across the defined muscles of his abdomen. Your eyes followed one particular droplet as it slid down his abs before disappearing into the white towel wrapped low around his waist.

Suddenly, sharing a room didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away. Anakin, always so sure of himself, caught your stare and flashed you a confident grin —one that was all too knowing. There was a flicker of something playful in his eyes, a dangerous spark that sent your pulse racing. He shook his head lightly, sending more water droplets flying, and the gesture felt so casual, so effortless, yet it left you completely unraveled.

"You like what you see?" Anakin’s voice was low, teasing, as he raised a brow in amusement. His tone, laced with flirtation, made your skin heat despite the chill that lingered in the air.

Your mind screamed at you to look away, to remember the boundaries between master and padawan, but your body betrayed you, rooted in place by the tension that now filled the small room.

For a split second, you saw hesitation in his eyes —just a flicker, like maybe even he knew he was crossing a line. But then, as if driven by some reckless need to push further, to test the limits, the towel slipped. It fell silently to the floor, landing in a small patch of undried paint that clung to the fabric.

Your breath hitched. The tension in the air thickened, the room suddenly feeling far too small, too intimate. Anakin stood there, unabashed, watching your reaction with that same infuriatingly smug look. Yet beneath that confidence, you could sense something else simmering —an unspoken desire, a question hanging in the air between you.

This definitely wasn’t a good idea anymore.

Your eyes widened, a sharp jolt of surprise and confusion surging through you. Never—not in your wildest dreams—had you imagined being in a situation like this. Anakin, your master, standing before you so naked in his glory. It felt surreal, as if reality had warped around you in that instant.

Instinctively, your gaze dropped lower before you could stop yourself, a glimpse of his half-hard cock. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt, and the heat flooding your face was immediate. A fiery blush crept up your cheeks, burning hot with a mix of shock and embarrassment.

Your hands flew to your face, palms pressing over your eyes as if you could erase the image, your heart hammering in your chest. "Force, what is happening?" you thought, breath catching in your throat. Your mind was a mess, struggling to reconcile the absurdity of the moment with the unwavering discipline you'd spent years mastering.

Behind your hands, you heard Anakin chuckle softly, his amusement only making the situation feel even more unreal. And still, beneath the embarrassment, there was something else stirring —something dangerous, something you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

“It’s okay, padawan. You can look.” he whispered, his voice soft. He wanted you to know that you could trust him, that you didn't need to feel ashamed or shy, he was your master after all.

You didn’t move. This isn’t right. It’s not the Jedi way, you reminded yourself, mentally reciting the Jedi Code you’d been trained to memorize, the one you’d sworn never to break. The words echoed in your mind like a lifeline, an anchor to the discipline you’d spent years being taught. But as the silence stretched between you, another part of you —one far more rebellious, one undeniably influenced by your master— began to stir. It grew louder, more insistent, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.

Anakin was waiting. You didn’t need to see him to know it. He was smiling—delighting in your hesitation, in the battle waging inside you. You could feel it, the way he reveled in your inner conflict, the tension thickening the air like an invisible thread pulling you toward him.

Your breath caught in your throat as you slowly lowered your hands from your face, fingers trembling just slightly. Your cheeks were still flushed, the heat of embarrassment lingering, but something else was there now too. Something that made your heart race, not out of shame but out of curiosity —of temptation.

Your eyelids fluttered shyly, hesitant, before you finally dared to meet his gaze. The moment your eyes locked with his, the smirk on his face widened ever so slightly, his confidence unshaken, even amused. He knew. He could see the crack in your defenses, the sliver of doubt that had taken root in your mind.

And the worst part? A part of you didn’t want to stop it.

“This is for you,” Anakin said, holding his hardened cock with his flesh hand, his voice low and husky, each word dripping with unspoken desire. There was a tension in his tone, thick and electric, the kind that made the air between you feel charged. His gaze was locked on yours, darkened with the intensity of his emotions, and you could feel the weight of it —how deeply you affected him, how you turned him on.

He wanted you to know. To feel the way the mere sight of your flushed face stirred something primal within him, something dangerous and raw. It was as if a storm had begun to brew in his chest, the pull of his desire rising like a tide, ready to drown both of you. The restraint he usually held was crumbling, like a volcano on the verge of eruption, and the way his breath hitched, just slightly, told you that it was taking everything he had to hold it back.

And yet, he didn’t. His words, his gaze—they were a confession in themselves. This was all for you.

The intensity of Anakin's gaze left you breathless, your body trembling in anticipation. You could feel your own arousal building, the heat between your legs growing more insistent with each passing second.

He waited for your response, his eyes never leaving yours, as if daring you to take what he offered. Your hand trembled slightly as it reached out to meet him, your fingers brushing against his hardened length.

He let out a soft groan, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. The sound felt a shiver down your spine, the power you held over him a heady intoxication. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the heat radiating from his cock, the veins that pulsed beneath your touch.

He watched you, your hands tentatively exploring him, your eyes wide and curious. He loved the way you looked, the way you felt. He wanted to teach you everything, to show you how to please him, how to make him feel good.

Anakin's fingers intertwined with yours, his hand covering yours as he showed you the rhythm he preferred. "Like this, Padawan," he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur against your ear. "Gentle, but firm."

You followed his lead, your hands moving in unison, your strokes slow and deliberate. Anakin's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as you began to find your rhythm.

"It's different," you admitted shyly, your fingers still slightly clumsy around his hardened cock. You bit your lower lip, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Am I doin’ right?" you asked nervously, your gaze meeting his.

Anakin's lips curved into a smile, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. "Yes, padawan, you're doing just fine," he reassured you, his voice thick with desire. "Just like that.

You continued to stroke him, your movements more confident now. Anakin's body began to tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “faster” he whispered, his voice urgent.

He could feel his orgasm building, could feel his body tensing. Anakin watched you, your eyes wide and trusting, your hands moving faster, your fingers slick with his pre-cum. He loved the way you looked, the way you felt. He loved the way you made him feel.

"Oh, Padawan," he moaned, his voice a low, guttural sound. "I'm going to come."

With a shuddering breath, he did,  his orgasm hitting him like a freight train.  He came in your hand, his seed spilling hot and thick over your fingers, his body shuddering as the waves of pleasure washed over him.

Anakin leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as his release ebbed away. “Good girl, padawan” he whispered, his breathing gradually returning to normal. “You did so good.” he said, his voice soft.

You stood there, bathed in the lingering warmth of the moment, your eyes flickering to your hands. Your fingers were coated in the thick, milky substance of his release. "It's sticky," you murmured, your voice tinged with innocent curiosity as you stared at your fingers. You shyly pulled them away, a thin line of cum stretching between two delicate fingers.

Anakin watched you, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of mischief. "Let me help you with that," he said, his voice low and husky. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "It's only fair that you clean it up, Padawan."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise. "Clean it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Anakin nodded, his thumb brushing against your fingers, smearing the cum slightly. "With your mouth," he suggested, his gauze locked onto yours. "It's only fitting, don't you think?"

You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. But the thought of tasting him, of pleasing him in this intimate way, feels a shiver of anticipation down your spine. 

Slowly, you brought your fingers to your mouth, your tongue darting out to lick the sticky substance from your skin. Anakin's breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You did so good, padawan. I'm so proud of you.” he whispered, his voice soft. 

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Howling Hearts

Summary: Countess Romanoff and her lover, Lady Maximoff, find themselves inexplicably drawn to the Countesses oldest, most trusted and loyal guards. One night after a particularly rambunctious banquet, they finally decide to act on these forbidden urges and claim the two wolves as their own.

Warnings: talk of blood/feeding on blood, graphic violence, slight Omegaverse concepts for the werewolves, Reader has a penis, sexual content (fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, breeding)

Authors note: first time writing Bucky in anything, so please go easy on me if he seems out of character at any point 💖

Authors note 2.0: sorry this is later than intended, still hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 10011 (im sorry its so long lmao) 2023 Halloween Specials Marvel Masterlist

   It was a cool evening, and a soft rain pattered against the castle's stained glass windows, providing a tranquil atmosphere to the room. Several times now you've become a bit lost in that feeling and have let your eyes linger a bit too long on Countess Romanoff as she sits in her exquisite chair by the fireplace. 

   Admiring her wasn’t new, in fact you were sure that after so many centuries you could paint the curve of her lips blindfolded and you were certain that your mate James could too. But lusting after the vampire that you were in service of wasn’t exactly acceptable behavior. If any other werewolf heard of such a thing it wouldn't go over well. Falling for the species that imprisoned yours to use like glorified watch dogs…they’d shun you at the very least.

  “Lady Romanoff, Starks fledgling is here to see you.” one of her guards announces, breaking the peaceful silence

   A brunette boy stands there beside the guard with wide eyes and he quickly offers the Countess a polite bow. She chuckles at his clear nervous energy and beckons him forward. Somehow the young vampires wobbly legs carry him further into the room

   “So young one” the Countess begins, giving the visitor her full attention “What brings you here on this lovely evening?”

    And lovely it had been indeed. With her lover out for the day it left her able to just focus on the presence of her two oldest and most trusted guards, her wolves. Something Wanda would indulge in as well, but normally they’d be too wrapped up in each other to daydream long. At least while in the same room as you, in their bedchambers it was a different story. But alas, the arrival of this fledgling had chased her decidedly naughty thoughts from her head.

   “Lord Stark wanted you to be informed that he and Lady Potts shall be in attendance of your upcoming banquet” he tells her, looking like he might pass out from anxiety at any second

   “Thank you and I’m glad to hear that. Do give them my best when you return home”

   He quickly nods and understanding that to be a dismissal he turns on his heels and heads back out the door you're standing by. He passes you with such a speed that you have half a mind to tell him to let the horse ride in the carriage as he takes the reins, but you hold your tongue. A good thing too, because no sooner did he disappear from view did Lady Maximoff arrive.

   She smiles as she passes by and heads straight for her lover, kissing the woman's cheek before taking a seat on her lap. You're used to such behavior by now, but at the start it had surprised you, as the Countess was not one to allow such affections from her nightly escapades. Then again, Wanda had always been different. She wasn’t some fledgling picked up for fun, nor was she a human chosen to be a plaything before a meal. No, she was every part an elder vampire, just as your master was, and they were quite old friends before the relationship ever began. 

   “Hello moya lyubov'(my love), is your brother well?”

   The brunette smiles, “He is, and still annoying. Who did I pass in the hallway?”

   “Starks fledgling, here to tell me that my invite was accepted” she explains

   “Oh good. It's not a proper banquet without Tony”

   The redhead chuckles, “How very true. We’ll have to have the kitchen staff keep extra glassware on hand, just in case he causes a debacle like last time.” 

   The two continue talking, making plans for the upcoming party as well as catching up on what the other had been up to in the few hours that they had been apart. You and James tried your best to stay focused and not watch the way the Countesses hands roamed across her lover's waistline and mid back as they converse but that proved to be a very difficult task.

   Eventually one of their servants enters the room with two goblets, indicating it was time for the two women to feed. Now, they could eat food like you and James did, but it did nothing for them. It didn't fill them or give them sustenance so it was something that they really only did when they felt like it or were craving something particular. Otherwise, it was all blood. The fresher, the better.

   "Here you are, my Lady" the servant greets, handing both women their cups

   “Thank you Sylvia” the Countess says before taking a deep gulp 

   The servant quickly excuses herself, heading back to whatever duties she was attending to before she needed to bring the two women their meal, and part of you wishes you could follow her. Not because you wished to be apart from anyone you were currently in the company of, but due to the feeling that stirs in your gut, and to your embarrassment, sometimes your pants, when you witnessed the women consume blood.

   You couldn’t help it, there was just something about being able to watch them feed. The way their fangs grew before they sunk them into their victim, their eyes turning nearly black as they drained the person's essence to fulfill their need was incredibly enchanting. And the way the red liquid dripped from the corners of their mouth, or how they licked their lips afterwards had your heart racing. Which is exactly how you feel now as a drop of blood trickles down from the corner of the Countesses mouth, down past her jawline and down her neck.

   Wanda notices this droplet as soon as Natasha moves her cup and she wastes no time in leaning over, letting her tongue lap up the treat before she attaches her lips to that same spot. She begins to suck a mark into the pale skin there, eliciting a throaty chuckle from the older vampire

   “Behave. You are not the only one currently present”

   Wanda's eyes travel over to James as she continues to mark up Natasha, before they eventually move to look at you as well. You sincerely hope she hadn’t noticed the way you shifted your stance in order to adjust the growing bulge at the front of your pants. The last thing you wanted was for either woman to begin to feel uncomfortable around you, or find you some kind of pervert. 

   “Dorogoy(darling), I said behave” the older woman repeats, gently tugging Wanda's hair to remove her from her neck and get her attention once more

   “But I like getting to mark you. I like the reaction it elicits” 

   Natasha smiles, “I like it too. But if that's something you want, then our room is a much more suitable place for us”

   Wanda wordlessly removes herself from her girlfriend's lap and waits for the redhead to stand before they both begin to make her way towards the doorway where you and James stand by. Wanda shyly smiles at you both and turns to the left, indicating that the bedchamber was exactly where they were headed

   “If anyone needs me” the Countess states, looking at James, “I’m not to be disturbed until I’m out of my room. Unless it's of utmost urgency”

   “Of course, my Lady” he responds, and she quickly follows after the brunette. After he's sure she's out of hearing range he looks to you with a brow raised, “Really?”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Down the hall, Wanda finds herself pinned to the mattress as Natasha slowly undresses her, “So wet already. You get turned on marking me up in front of them?”

   “Yes” she whimpers, remembering how she felt like she was putting on a show for you both earlier

   “Mmm, you weren’t the only one” Nat replies against her lovers ear, making the younger vampire shudder, “They liked it too”

   Wanda's eyes shut as she tilts her head back, the feeling of hands roaming across her now bare body fogging her mind. Still she manages a reply, “Yeah?”

   “Oh, yes. Couldn't you see the hunger in their eyes? Or the bulge in Y/ns pants?"

  Another whimper leaves the brunette as Natasha gropes her breasts, "Yes, I saw"

   "And you liked it, didn't you? Causing that reaction in them."

   "I loved it…" she admits, looking into Nats eyes, "I want them, Tasha"

   "I know, my love. I do too, but you know we can't." She sighs, "Even if they feel the same, you know we can't. Our laws forbid it."

   Wanda sighs, a sadness now etched upon her features, "But I don't care about keeping the bloodline pure, and neither do you. So why can't we indulge in our heart's desires?"

   "Because we could be found out, which would endanger James and Y/n" 

   "But- "

   "Shhh darling" Nat interrupts, kissing her girlfriend's plush lips, "Just focus here right now. Can you do that for me?" The younger vampire nods and Natasha smirks at how eager she already seems, “Good girl”

      The mixture of praise and her girlfriend's touch causes Wanda to moan, and Natasha finds herself eager to hear more. She pulls more sounds from the brunette by pinching her nipples and sucking marks along her collarbone, letting her fangs brush against the sensitive skin there.

   Occupied by her lover's mouth, Wanda had failed to notice the removal of one of Natashas hands from her chest, until she felt a thumb press against her clit. Her hips jump slightly and another, more throaty moan leaves her as Nat slides a finger through her wet folds

   Wanda whimpers, her walls clenching around nothing, “I need you inside me, please”

   “I’ve got you” Nat coos, slowly inserting one of her fingers into her girlfriends tight hole

    “Please, more” she begs, and taking note of how wet she already is, Natasha slides a second finger inside, stretching her open as her thumb circles her clit, “Oh god, fuck me Tasha, please”

    Nat smirks and quickly begins to thrust her fingers, and she leans down to capture her lips in a kiss. She easily dominates the action, sliding her tongue into the awaiting girl's mouth while avoiding her fangs. Wanda's walls tighten around the older woman's fingers, causing her to smile and break away from the kiss

   “That feel good, my love?”

   “So…good” she pants, trying hard to catch the breath Nat keeps stealing from her, but its of no use when the redhead quickens her pace, “Ooh fuck!”

   “Which one are you picturing taking you right now?” Nat asks, smirk still plastered on her face. Wanda only wimpers, her fists tightening against the silk sheets as her head leans back, “It's ok darling, you can tell me. I wanna know”

   “James!” she practically shouts, feeling herself nearing her orgasm

   “Leaving poor Y/n out, hm?” Nat teases

   “No” she gasps, trying hard to focus on her fantasy, “She's…ooh!”

   Nat soothes her by kissing her chest softly, “She's what? Tell me”

   “She's making me suck her cock”

   Nat hums, fully agreeing with the mental picture her lover is painting, “I bet she tastes so good. Don’t you think?”

   “Yes!” she moans, her back arching off the bed

   “And James would absolutely fill your pretty pussy up, is that what you want?” she questions, nipping at the younger girls jawline

    The brunette's walls clamp down around Nat's fingers, “Yes! Oh god Tasha, please can I cum?”

   “Go ahead dorogoy(darling), cum”

    Wanda's legs shake as a loud moan leaves her, and her juices drip down her girlfriends hand to the sheets below. Natasha continues to slowly fuck her through her orgasm, prolonging her high until all she can do is whimper and grab at the older woman.

   “Good girl” she praises, gently pulling her fingers free before licking them clean, “Mmm, I’ll never tire of how you taste”

   “Can I taste you now? Please?”

   Nat smiles and quickly rids herself of her own clothes before she settles herself against the mattress, and if that wasn’t a clear enough ‘yes’ she spreads her thighs wide to reveal her pussy

   “So pretty” Wanda mumbles, leaning in to pepper her girlfriend's thighs with marks of their own

   The closer she gets to the redheads core, the more intense the older womans breathing becomes, until finally it's too much for her to take, “Come on darling, I thought you wanted to taste”

   Wanda quickly lets her tongue dart out, lapping up some of her girlfriends essence that had leaked out. The older woman lets out a small moan, which only urges Wanda on. She licks again, this time letting her tongue go even deeper inside as her nose bumps against Nats clit

   “Oh god, just like that”

   Priding herself on doing as she told, Wanda keeps going, exploring every part of the beautiful redhead before her with her talented mouth. The moans she's able to get her girlfriend to make only make her want to cause her more pleasure, and Natasha quickly finds herself reaching her own release

   “Fuck…” she mumbles, struggling to voice her own fantasy, “I wonder if Y/n can eat pussy as good as you”

   Wanda nips at the woman, meaning it as more of a ‘no ones as good as me’, but all it manages to do is leave her girlfriend grinding against her face

   “I’m so close Wans, please”

   Hearing her lovers please Wanda moves to suck on her clit and is rewarded with a gush of juices and a scream of her name. She carefully moves up the bed, straddling her lover's body before kissing her. The two stay locked together, passionately making out for what seems like hours as they continue to pleasure each other. Effectively ending the night as they did most, with whispered declarations of love and shared fantasies of their favorite werewolves.

   They're awoken the next morning by a loud pounding on their wooden door, "My Lady, pardon me waking you, but I imagine your guests will be arriving within the next few hours. I wouldn't want you to oversleep"

   A soft smile spreads across the redhead's face, "Thank you, Y/n. We'll be out shortly. Do tell Sylvia not to fret"

   "Yes, my Lady"

   Once Wandas sure you're out of earshot, she turns to her lover, "I do wish that maybe just once, they'd have to come in here to wake us. I'd love to just pull them into the bed with us"

   Nat chuckles, "Naughty girl"

   "Not like that. Not this time at least." Wanda corrects, "Right now, I just want to cuddle. I want to feel their arms wrapped around us as we all share the bed"

   "It does sound wonderful…" the Countess sighs

   "But it's just a dream, isn't it?"

   Natasha gives her a tight lipped smile, "I'm afraid so, dorogoy(darling). Now come, we need to get dressed for the banquet"

   After trying on multiple dresses each, they both finally settle on their choices and proceed to get ready. Wanda is dressed in a maroon dress, with her hair done up in a low bun. A few red gemstones decorate her hair to tie into her gown while a delicate necklace adorns her neckline. It was a gift from Nat earlier in their relationship, a golden chain with a dangling centerpiece consisting of golden knots and rubies. Natasha is in a black dress, her hair done up in exquisite braids with small charms and gemstones decorating it. Around her neck she wears a golden necklace with multiple chains dangling from it, each adorned with a few rubies. At the very center hangs a larger pendant that dips quite low, sitting snugly in her cleavage. 

   By the time they arrive in the grand hall, the area has been completely set up by the Countesses staff. The large gathering table for the heads of houses sits up front, while a few others are spread around the vast area. Each is decorated with an ornate cloth and set with plates and goblets for meal time. A few large candles sit at the center of each table with wines on either side for their guests to freely drink from.

   “My Lady” you greet, entering the room with a large tray of hors d'oeuvres

   “Y/n” she greets, swiping two samples from your tray. She hands one to Wanda before biting into it, “Mmm, the kitchen staff have done an excellent job”

   “They’ll be happy to hear that” you reply before making your way around the room to distribute the food to each table, “The main course should be ready about an hour after everyone's arrival, and James is tending to the humans chosen for tonight. But he’ll be joining us soon”

   “Perfect, thank you”

   With your task done, you can finally focus on them, which allows you to fully take in their appearance. And the words came out of your mouth before you even realized you were saying them, “Wow. The two of you look incredible”

   Both women smile, which helps to calm your nerves of overstepping a boundary. And if you didn’t know better, you’d swear a hint of pink was now visible on their cheeks, but vampires didn’t blush, right? And if they did, it certainly wouldn’t be due to a compliment from a lowly werewolf

   “Thank you, Y/n” Wanda says, pulling you from your thoughts, “You look great tonight too” 

  “You really think so?” you ask, glancing down at your outfit

  The Countess had gotten you and James formal attire a while back for situations like this, because every other house just had its wolves show up in a regular outfit, which she admits she did as well. Until she overheard a group of wolves talking about how ostracized they felt at events and gatherings, and she wanted you both to feel included. But she and Wanda had yet to actually see you wear them.

  “Absolutely, you look quite dashing” Natasha quickly condoms

   You smiles shyly, “Thank you, my Lady, and you as well, Lady Maximoff”

   Before either woman can continue the conversation, James arrives carrying an ornate dagger in its sheath, “My Lady, the humans are all properly secure and are all still in perfect condition for this evening.”

  “Thank you James” she replies, “Go ahead and set that by my seat”

  “Of course”

   As he moves to do as he's told, both women appreciate the way he looks in his new uniform as well. You can’t help but notice them doing this, and you find yourself wondering if they had been looking at you with that same amount of interest. The idea that they could have has your mind swimming with thoughts on what that could mean.

   “James, you look good in your suit too” Wanda finally offers up

   He smiles, “Thank you Lady Maximoff, I tried to clean up nicely for this evening”

   “And you did a wonderful job. You both did” the Countess assures, watching fondly as the two of continue to carry out your duties

   A few hours later and the banquet is in full swing. Many of the Countesses' friends and acquaintances are in attendance, bringing along a handful of their own guards or a couple of their werewolves to ensure the safety of themselves both during travel and here in the Countesses castle. The grand hall was quite full due to this, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t put you a bit on edge.

   You knew your Countess didn’t necessarily trust everyone she invited, but had to do it to keep the peace among the elder vampires and their houses. Meaning that someone here could easily be at odds with her, and with a handful of guards at their disposal they could cause a disturbance and multiple injuries if they chose to do so. Not to mention how easily someone with ill intentions could slip in and remain hidden in a crowd this large. 

   “You alright?” James asks, coming to stand beside you, his hand caresses your shoulder gently to hopefully ease some tension away from you

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just….I don’t know, something seems off. Like there's an unnecessary heaviness in the air” you explain, eyeing the room suspiciously 

   He nods, “Yeah, I feel it too. Might just be our nerves, or it might be something, so lets stay on our toes just to be sure”

   You agree and the two of you do your best to not stray far from the main table for the next hour, wanting to ensure the safety of both your Countess and her girlfriend. If one of you had to do something or got called to have a conversation, the other made sure to not stray. And thankfully, so far, everything has been going well.

    “You know, if Lord Pyms fledgling isn’t careful with how he holds the elders daughter while dancing with her, we might have to step in to make sure Scott doesn’t lose his hands.”

   You glance over and notice Scotts hand dangerously low on Hopes back and catch the glare the older man is sending the two as they remain oblivious, “Oh, I would hate to be on the receiving end of a look like that. He's absolutely going to get a reprimand the entire way home tonight”

   “Guarantee it.” another voice replies, causing both of you to look in its direction. 

    “Carol, glad you're here”. It's nice to see you. you happily greet, having not seen the blonde werewolf in some time

    “You too, Y/n” she says with a smile, turning to look at your partner, “And you as well James.”

   “Hi Carol. Maria here too?” 

   She nods, “Of course she is, Count Fury wouldn’t go anywhere without both of us. Ah, there she is now”

   “Hey guys” the raven haired werewolf greets, and her mate happily kisses her cheek, “How are the two of you?”

   “We’re well” James replies, linking his fingers with yours, “How about the two of you?”

   “We’re good too” Carol replies, pausing to look at you, “Have the two of you been allowed to find an Omega yet?”

   You swallow and glance at James, unsure of what to say. Because packs worked a certain way, and that's essentially what a group of guards under a vampire's service was, a very small pack. Alphas were in charge, generally more offensive in actions, and were the ones responsible for breeding. And Omegas, who were still an equal threat despite generally being more defensive, and the ones that would carry any children. And due to you being in the service of vampires, you’d have to get their permission before finding mates and expanding your pack. Which, as Alphas, you and James had a big say in.

   And it's not like your Countess had forbid you from looking for an Omega, but it's not like you had asked either. Whether that was due to the two of you being content without more of a pack, or due to the two of you being infatuated with the two vampires was another matter. One that you couldn’t admit to.

   “Uh, well, we haven’t really brought it up to anyone yet” James admits, causing the two to share a look that you have a bad feeling about

    Back up at the main table the Countess sighs as Lord Rogers continues to drone on about something that not only happened thousands of years ago, but that he retold at every gathering. Wanda gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, and she turns to find the brunette rolling her eyes. She chuckles lightly at the action, until Count Fury sits down beside her

   “Countess Romanoff, such a lovely banquet so far. Though, personally I would have gone for whiskey instead of wine”

   She smiles, “Count Fury, I’m glad you could join us this time. I can have a servant get you some whiskey if you’d like”

   “I’d appreciate that”

   She quickly signals for Sylvia, who is just as quick to appear, “Please bring out one of our finest whiskies and a glass for the Count here”

   She nods and does as told. He takes his time pouring a glass sampling it. Once satisfied with it he fills the glass entirely before refocusing on conversation, “Seems my Omega wolves have taken a liking to your Alpha ones”

   Her eyes immediately snap up, trying to find you and James in the crowd, and once she does she hates what she sees. Carol is standing mere inches from you with her hand resting along your bicep while Maria stands inches away from James, brushing a long stand of loose hair back behind his ear. 

   Her jaw clenches as she watches neither of you do anything about their close proximity, and has half a mind to let Wanda go over there and sort things out. But she can’t afford to have a scene caused due her her affections for the two of you

   “The bitches will be in their heat soon, if you're looking to let your wolves have a bit of fun, I’m sure we could strike a deal”

  Her stomach sinks at the very clear implication, and based on how quickly she sees Wanda turn her head from the two of you back to her, she knows her girlfriend felt the same dread

   “I can assure you that they both come from good backgrounds genetically. And they've never laid with any Alphas before, your wolves would be the first, and presumably last.”

   “No thank you”

   He raised a brow, apparently surprised,“Are you certain? They seem like a good match.”

   “She said no” Wanda interjects, practically ready to go shove the mans wolves away from you and James

   Nat raises her hand to signal her girlfriend to contain herself, “The offer is very generous, but I must decline. I’m afraid that my wolves have yet to show interest in such a thing”

   “A little push surely wouldn’t hurt matters, but if you are sure in your decision then there's nothing I can do about it”

   “No, there isn’t” she affirms, signaling for her servants to bring out the humans. Her anger needed to be taken out on something, and this would also allow her to temper her hunger

   A row of chained nude men and women are led into the room and brought before the main table, prompting the Countess to stand and grab the ornate dagger. She makes her way to the first person and smirks, “This won’t be quick”

   Before he can even register it, the dagger is brought across his neck and he slumps backward as blood begins to pour from the wound, prompting the remaining humans to let out noises of shock and disdain. You and your mate can only stare in awe at her brutal efficiency. 

   “Who would like a taste?” she offers, beginning to take goblets shoved her way to fill

   You and James watch on as your Countess helps fill chalices for those that approach her, but suddenly a sharp movement to your left catches your attention. You turn to find a group of four men attempting to approach her, but something is off with them. They seem determined, focused. That's when you spot their gear, strategically hidden within their cloaks. Miniature crossbows and blades. 

   “James, we need to move. Now!” Your stern tone immediately has his attention and he turns in time to catch you shifting into your werewolf form. 

   You cause a bit of a commotion as you turn, pushing others down or shoving them away as your size increases and black fur begins to cover your body. People quickly make room for you, effectively halting the men you would soon be after in their tracks, as they are cut off or bumped into. 

   Seeing you transform, Wanda is on her feet at once, “Y/n?”

   Nats eyes move to you then, and her brows furrowed in confusion as she sees you in your werewolf form standing there on your hindlegs, towering over everyone. She only becomes more concerned when your lip curls back in a snarl and a deep growl emanates from your chest.

   “Hey! Control your mutt!” someone, who is quite obviously a vampire shouts, and a good amount of others begin to murmur in agreement 

  But it’s then James sees them too, as they all turn to lock eyes with you, “Go, I’m right behind you.”

   You lunge through the crowd, causing a surprised gasp of indignation to leave the vampires, who somehow still haven’t managed to sniff out the humans in their midst. But the roar-like sound that leaves you as your ears pin back quickly has them fleeing the area of whatever you have perceived as a threat. You land a few feet in front of the small group, and the room is quickly being cleared of all other guests and guards aside from those at the main table, effectively plugging up the rooms entryways and stopping more of the Countesses guards from rushing in

   “We ain't here for you!” the one shouts, “Move outta the way and I’ll reward you with your freedom!”

    Your growl at them and bare your teeth, obviously not swayed by such a thing, afterall Natasha was good to you. She fed you, clothed you, even let you have a room, and you'd never known what it was like to be on a chain or to be whipped. No, you had it good here, the best as far as werewolf standards could go. Plus, you were kinda hopelessly in love with her and her girlfriend, so to you and James, this was freedom.

   You stalk forward a few paces, and they all finally reveal their weapons, aiming them at you. Both Natasha and Wanda can feel their own lips curling back in snarls, showing off their fangs. Neither can tell though if it's due to the anger at the brazen attack or their protectiveness for you however.

   “We just want Romanoffs head” another one of them declares, chuckling, “It’s gonna look real nice on a pick in the center of town”

   It would seem that James wasn’t a fan of that idea either, because in only a few seconds he's shifted into his werewolf form as well and circles around to the groups one side. They seem a bit shocked by his telltale white fur, no doubt connecting it to the legends that run rampant of when he was younger and kill crazy under the service of another vampire named Vasily Karpov.

   “Certainly you recognize the white wolf as being the one your kind calls the Winter soldier” Natasha states, venom clear in her tone, “And as you can see, he is not alone. Surrender and I might spare these citizens their lives”

   A third man shakes his head, “We don’t make deals. We’re leaving here with your head”

   “You won’t be leaving at all” 

   Her comment is as good as a command, and you surge forward with a roar. The recognizable sound of a crossbow firing can be heard only seconds before your teeth are tearing into the soft flesh of the man's neck, and the metallic smell of blood fills the air. 

   Upon seeing this, two of the men attempt to scramble away, but James moves after them. He jumps on the first one, sinking his claws into his back as he bites down on the man's shoulder. He yells out a strangled cry for help before his neck is snapped by a large paw. The other man looks on in sheer horror as he frees his blade, it shakes in his hold but he's determined to not die without landing a blow

  “Come on then, come get some!”

   He lets out a growl that sounds rather like an amused chuckle before striking, tearing open the man's leg with his razor sharp claws. The man yells as he collapses, and he wildly swings his knife, catching your mate with the blade. It slides across his fur covered forearm leaving a small gash and terrible burning sensation in its wake. He quickly swats the blade from the man's grasp, breaking his wrist in the process before getting right up in his face. 

   He stares him down as he slowly bleeds out, having had his artery severed by claws not too long ago, but his attention quickly switches to you when the smell of your blood hits his nostrils…

   The man that had stayed near you instead of running had watched on in disgust as you ripped away a part of his friend's windpipe before dropping his body. And he knew as soon as your eyes locked onto him that he was next. He decides to be brave as you walk forward, and he fires another bolt into you. Unlike the earlier one that lodged itself in your shoulder, this one hits your abdomen, causing an involuntary whine to leave you as blood drips down to the stone floor. But you don’t allow this to slow you down, and you rush him before he has a chance to reload. He screams as your claws tear into him, ripping open his abdomen and spilling his guts. 

  But before you can finish him off, the pain sets in, and it's quite clear even in your animalistic state that the tips of the bolts had been silver. You recoil from him, letting out another whine as your paw wraps around the arrow in your shoulder, and you yank it out with all your might. 

   The pain nearly has you on all fours at this point, and James quickly rushes to you. His head rests in the crook of your neck as his tongue laps at your shoulder injury. You whine again, almost collapsing as the silver rushes through your bloodstream and Wanda finds she can’t hold back anymore

   She rushes over and carefully runs her hand through the black fur of your uninjured shoulder. Your head turns to her, and she swears she sees your eyes light up as you take in her presence. She watches as you sway, clearly weakened by this attack and she helps you lean into her. Though smaller in size, vampires are amazingly strong and she has no issues helping keep you upright. As she does so, the last of the crowd clears from the doorways, and the Countesses vampire guards make their way into the room. 

   “It's about time!” she shouts, trying to keep her worry for you under wraps, “Get the elders out of here and safely to their carriages, and put these humans back in the dungeons”

   “But, my Lady- ”

   “Go! My wolves took care of the threat and now the elders would like to be in their own castles, see that they at least get safely out of mine!”

   The nod, “Of course. At once”

   As soon as the room is empty, she rushes to join Wanda at your side, “How bad is it?”

   “She can hardly stand Tasha, I think it was silver” she admits, pulling away from your now human form

  The Countess frowns, knowing you must be really weak to allow that to happen just now. In all the years of knowing you, she's never seen you become human again in front of them, likely due to your nakedness. She rubs the fur of James shoulder to gain his attention, and he looks over at her

   “Can you carry her to our room?”

   Though confused, he nods and scoops you up into his arms. It agitates his own injury slightly, and he winces, but he powers through it easily.

    “Set her on the bed” Wanda tells him, and he does as he's told. Only he refuses to move away from you

   Natasha reaches up to rub his muzzle, “I know you're scared right now, but please James, I need you to step back so I can help her”

   His eyes move from her, to you and he takes a few hesitant steps to the side, giving her enough room to maneuver around you. There's still a bolt lodged in your abdomen that is likely causing an extreme amount of pain as well as letting silver remain inside you, but she can’t remove it. Not until she deals with your shoulder wound that's bleeding profusely

  “Just hang on, Y/n” she whispers, grabbing the cloth Wanda hands her. She presses it into the wound, causing you to whimper, “I know, I’m sorry.”

   Wanda hands her a blade then, and James watches in awe as the Countess slices open her own wrist, letting her own blood pour out. He knows she intends to offer it to you, as a vampire's blood has healing properties. But he also knows that this is completely unheard of. He's never known a vampire to allow a wolf in their bed like this, and he certainly knows that none have ever let themselves be fed off of by a wolf. He knew Natasha was a kind vampire to werewolves, much kinder than most, but still he can’t help but think that something different is going on here.

  “Y/n, I need you to drink, okay? Please.”

   You weakly take the wrist she has offered you, attaching your lips to her soft flesh and begin to let the coppery flavor of her blood wash over your tongue. 

   To your surprise, you immediately start to feel its effects as the pain in your shoulder numbs. And you're fairly certain you can feel the wound trying to close itself, something your healing factor normally wouldn't help with when silver was involved. She moves the cloth away with her free hand, and sure enough it's only a small injury now.

   "Okay, I'm going to pull this one out now" she says, gesturing to the bolt in your belly, "It's going to hurt"

  You nod and she pulls, causing you to grimace around her wrist. And honestly if she wasn't so worried about you, she would have been going insane over the feeling of your lips and teeth on her skin

  "That's it, keep drinking" she tells you, turning to look at her girlfriend, "Wanda, James is hurt too, let him drink from you"

  The brunette picks up the knife and holds it to her wrist before looking up at the looming white werewolf, "You can shift back if you'd like, unless you're more comfortable like that"

   His head tilts to the side like some confused dog as he thinks on it, before deciding to shift back. Wanda watches in amazement as he turns back into the man she's familiar with

   "There we go" she says with a smile, but before she can cut herself his hand in hers stops her

   "You don't have to. I appreciate it, and I appreciate you, my Lady, helping Y/n. But my injury isn't in a vital area. You don't need to"

   "James, Natasha helped Y/n because she cares. Deeply. As do I. And we feel the same about you. I don't care if it's not fatal or that it will eventually heal. I can help you not to hurt now, so I'm going to " she explains, effectively causing both his heart and yours to race

   "Okay"

   Wanda slices herself as soon as he lets go and gives him her wrist, "Now drink"

   As he does as he's told, Nat removes her wrist from your mouth as she looks you over. She tries not to let her eyes wander, only intending to make sure your injuries are closed, but when she sees your v line and happy trail she can't help but glance further down. She bites the inside of her lip to hold back a groan, because even soft you're bigger than she's ever had the pleasure of taking. But your voice pulls her eyes and attention away

   "Thank you. You didn't have to save me"

   "Of course I did" her eyes soften as she looks at you, and you swear you're dreaming when her hand cups the side of your face, "I couldn't let you die. Besides, you saved me tonight too"

   You can't help but be confused, "But that's my duty to you as your guard. You…you don't have that duty"

   "I don't. But Wanda's right, I care about you and about James far more than a Countess should. And I have felt this way for a very long time. As has Wanda" she explains, leaning closer, “And I think, the two of you feel the same way”

   “We do” you admit, your heart fluttering as you get lost in her intense gaze

   She smiles, “Good, then you won’t mind me doing this”

   She leans in and captures your lips with her own, and you move your hand to cup the back of her head to ensure she stays there. Her lips are so plush, and they fit perfectly against your own. It’s better than you ever imagined, and when her tongue prods your lip for entrance, you eagerly allow it. You then wrap your arms around her waist to pull her even closer, causing her to let out a soft moan. The scene practically has James’s jaw hanging open

   “Why let them have all the fun?” Wanda says, bringing him out of his daze and offering him her hand now that he's done drinking from her

   He swiftly takes it and she leads him to the other side of the bed. Before she can say or do anything however, his hands grasp her hips and pull her against him. She lets out a small sound of surprise before he leans in, pressing his lips against hers in an awaited kiss. Without realizing it, he leans her backwards, letting her come to rest on the mattress below.

   When all four of you finally pull away from each other, James helps Wanda out of her dress and jewels while you do the same with the redhead above you. With all four of you finally able to see each other fully, you each silently study the other. Each of you intends to take in every freckle and scar, committing them to memory before giving in and worshiping each other. 

   Natasha makes the first move, smirking at you seductively before effortlessly flipping your positions. With you now on top of her she guides your hands to her body, “Make me feel good, baby”

   Your hands begin to caress her sides, slowly making their way up to her chest while your mouth kisses along her jawline. When your hands finally cup her breasts, your mouth has moved to her collarbone, where you leave a few of your own marks beside some of Wanda's older ones. The Countess shudders in anticipation as her core throbs, spilling her essence to the bedsheets below. 

   Beside you, James does similarly. His hands squeeze the brunette's tits while his mouth trails the valley between them, leaving kisses in his wake. Wanda squirms beneath him, a flushed mess as she feels her arousal drip between her thighs. She's honestly surprised by her girlfriend's patience, as hers has run out.

   “James” she calls out, her voice a bit raspier than usual. His eyes glance up at her but his mouth never leaves her chest, "I need you lower"

   He eagerly obliges and slides himself further down pressing gentle kisses against her bare stomach before settling before her mound. His eyes darken as he sees how wet she already is, and his tongue darts out to taste her.

  “Ooh” she moans as his tongue gently parts her folds and enters her awaiting hole. He swirls the muscle around before pulling back to suck on her clit, causing her to clench around nothing, “Feels so good, baby”

   He hums at the praise, causing her to roll her hips against him as she seeks out more pleasure. He obliges by pushing his tongue back inside her, letting her walls squeeze him as his nose brushes against her bundle of nerves.

   Hearing her girlfriend moan beside her has Natasha eager for the same treatment. But she needs not wait long, as you're already busy marking up her plush thighs.

   “Y/n…” she sighs as you test her patience, so you finally give into both of your desires

   You practically dive in, attaching your lips to her clint instantly, earning yourself a loud moan from the woman. She quickly brings one her hands to tangle in your hair to hold you close as the other hand twists up the sheets

   “Fuck….just like that” she encourages, scratching lightly at your scalp, “Good girl”

   Her juices drip down your chin as you slip your tongue inside her, causing more sounds of pleasure to come from her. They mix with Wandas as you both work on getting them to come undone.

   It’s not long before both vampires are writhing, their muscles tightening as they begin to reach the peak of their bliss. You and James increase the pace of your mouth's movements as you both hold down their thighs to avoid being crushed.

   “Fuck!” Wanda shouts as she treats your mate to a gush of her cum, which he happily swallows

   The sounds of her girlfriend coupled with your motions is enough to have Nat falling over the edge as well, “Oh god!”

   Her grip on your hair tightens as you continue your movements for a bit, until she slumps back against the bed. Though neither of you want to, you both pull away, not wanting to overstimulate either woman. They both look at you and JAmes through hooded eyes, clearly still blissed out as smiles grace their features

   You and your mate share a similar smile as you glance at each other, clearly forming an unspoken plan with each other. This plan is put in motion quickly as the two of you trade places on the bed, allowing you to each slide between the legs of the other woman you’ve yet to please, and taste.

   You effortlessly wrap your arms around Wanda's thighs and pull her close to you, making her moan deeply as your lips make contact with her still sensitive pussy. Natasha makes a similar sound as James’ tongue slides inside her. You both work at the same pace as before, making both women shudder as their second orgasms quickly approach. Wanda's hand instinctively reaches out to grab her girlfriend's hand, and they both shout out your names as they cum again. You both help work them through it before pulling away to let them calm down.

   It takes them a moment to regain their composure, but once they do, Natasha is sure to praise you both, “They did so good for us, didn't they detka(baby)?”

   “They sure did. Took such good care of us” Wanda agrees, reaching down to affectionately stroke your cheek

  Natasha hums in agreement, “I think it's time to take care of them, don’t you agree?”

  “Oh yes” 

   You and James watch them with anticipation as they stand from the bed, gesturing at where they once were laying. You quickly understand the implication and both move up the mattress to take their places. They both eye you hungrily as they realize you're both hard, and both leaking precum.

   Natasha moves to straddle James, reaching down to grab his cock. She gently wraps her fingers around it, causing him to moan as she jerks him off. His head leans back against the pillows as she presses his tip against her entrance, and she then moans as he slips inside. She slowly sinks down, bracing herself with her hands on his chest as he bottoms out inside her

   “Fuck…” he whimpers as his hands move to her hips, “You feel so good”

   She smiles down at him, “Mmm, so do you. Filling me so well.”

   As she begins to rock her hips, Wanda makes her way to you, straddling your lap with a confident smirk. She strokes your cock as she lines herself up with you, and you both moan in unison as she begins to sink down on you. Your hands cup her breasts in effort to add to her pleasure as hers rest against your abdomen, and she whimpers as stills against your hips

   “So big” she mutters, not used to anything other than Natashas fingers inside her

   With your ego boosted you smile up at her with a cocky grin, “You think we’re big now, you should see us in our other form”

   The thought alone has them both clenching around you, causing both you and James to moan as their movements increase in speed. An your mate glances over at you with a knowing look

   “I think they like the sound of that” you tease, only to be shut up by the brunettes lips on your own

   “Damn right we do” Natasha admits, still eagerly riding James’ cock, “After Wans and I make you two see stars, we want you wolf forms to claim us. You don’t need Omegas now that you have us.”

   James grunts at her words and tightens his on her hips, she's almost sure it’ll bruise and that excites her, “Does that sound good, handsome? Does the idea of knocking us up excite you?”

   “Yes…” he breathes out as his cock twitches inside her, “We’ve never wanted Omegas, only the two of you”

   Wanda pulls away from you, looking into your eyes as she continues her hips movements, “Yeah?”

   “Yeah” you assure, wrapping an arm around her waist, “All we ever thought about was you two”

   At your confession, Natasha leans over and connects her lips to James’ while the brunette on top of you cups your face. Even without words, it's clear the sentiment is the same for the two of them. Besides each other, all they thought of was the two of you. And that paired with they way they both still ride you, neither of you will last much longer.

   “Fuck…Wanda, I’m gonna cum” you grit out, trying to hold yourself back until you know she's close as well

   She moans at your words and her walls tighten around you, “Go on baby, cum in me”

    With her permission you unload inside of her, sending her over the edge directly after you. You hold her close as you thrust your hips upward, helping her ride through her orgasm.

   Beside you, Natasha pants, quickly approaching her own climax, “Thats it, being such a good boy for me. Keep going, I’m so close”

   He nods in understanding, “Me too. God…I’m gonna fill you up” 

   Natasha moans loudly, cumming all over his cock at his words, but his hands continue to guide her in her movements until he spills inside her. She practically collapses against him once he's finished, and he runs a soothing hand through her hair.

   A few minutes pass before the four of you have caught your breath, but once you have, you look over at the redhead resting against your mate, “Did you mean what you said? About our wolf forms?”

   She reaches out to caress her girlfriends back, who still lays on your chest, before answering, “Yes. We want you both in every way we can have you. Right, dorogoy(darling)?”

   “Right” she answers, kissing your chest, “Please Y/n?”

   James looks over at you, “Come on, love. If they want to be ours, who are we to deny them that?”

   You nod, “You're right”

   The two of you carefully move the two girls off of you as you stand, and once they’re situated you both make your way to the foot of the bed. James gently grabs your waist and pulls you against him before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. You eagerly lean into it and wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close for a moment

   After the two of you break apart you walk away from the bed a bit to ensure there's enough space before shifting forms. The two vampires watch in awe as you both transform, and their jaws nearly drop as they take in the size of your still erect cocks.

   You both walk over to the bed, eyeing them as if they were prey. Which, in a way, they were. Just not the kind to be attacked or eaten, but the kind to be claimed. You lick your maw as you climb above the Countess, and she reaches out to stroke the fur covering your chest.

   “Come on, baby. Use me.”

   As soon as the words leave her mouth you reach out your large paws to flip her over, showing off her ass to you. She gets the idea and moves to be on all fours below you, and you eagerly bend over her. She can feel your throbbing member resting just against her folds and grinds back into you, showing how eager she is for you.

   Seeing the position you have her girlfriend in, Wanda quickly moves to get in the same one, hoping to entice James to come to her faster. Her plan works and he moves to hover over her. He gently licks the back of her shoulder as he lines himself up with her and he pushes his tip against her pussy.

    She moans loudly and pulls at the sheets as he pushes himself further inside her, stretching her open even further than she had been on your human cock earlier. He stills for a moment to let her adjust to the new size, only continuing to move once her breathing evened out. Now fully inside her, he lets out a possessive growl and drops a bit more of his body weight on top of her as he waits for you and Natasha to catch up.

   Seeing how your mate has already mounted Wanda, you move your hips back slightly before moving them forward again and you slowly begin to slide into the woman beneath you. She moans and reaches out to grab ahold of one of your giant paws to help ground herself as you inch forward until you're all the way inside her and you thank her by softly licking her neck

   “Please” Wanda whimpers, moving to look at James the best she can in her current position, “Please fuck me”

   With a grunt he begins to move, slamming his hips into hers without little care for how rough his movements may be. His sole focus now is on his pleasure, and filling the brunette with his seed. His powerful thrusts have Wanda a mess beneath him, and all she can do is make sounds of pleasure as his cock pulses inside of her.

   Below you, Natasha wiggles her hips in an attempt to entice you, “Come on Y/n, please”

   You thrust your hips forward with a growl and move your paw to be on top of the hand that was once holding onto you as you start to pound into her. Noises similar to Wandas leave her as your movements never falter and she nearly screams in pleasure when you brush up against her cervix

   “Oh god….oh god” Wanda mumbles, feeling her own arousal drip down her thighs as she approaches her third orgasm of the evening, “Don’t stop”

   He grunts as he increases his pace, proving to her that he had no intention of doing such a thing. He can feel her walls tighten around him, which only spurs him on. He lowers his head next to hers, letting her hear him pant against her ear which proves to be enough to tip her over the edge

   “James!” she shouts, and he nuzzles against her as she shakes but continues to fuck her, not planning on stopping until his knot is buried inside her. 

   Your hips slam into Natashas with a similar roughness, causing the redhead to whimper. She tries her best to force her hips back to meet your thrusts, intent on chasing her next orgasm that's oh so close. And all it takes to send her over is your other paw moving to grab at her chest

   “Oh fuck! Y/n!” she yells as her walls squeeze you in a way nothing ever has before. But you don’t let up either, only thinking about locking your knot into place so you can fill her properly.

    The two of you continue to rut into them with such force that has their arms nearly giving out, but neither cares too much as you both have their eyes rolling to the back of their heads and drool dripping down their chins. Neither has ever felt pleasure this intensely before, and they honestly aren't sure they ever want it to stop. But just as that thought crosses their minds they can feel themselves approaching their climax once again, and they are eager to be filled with potent werewolf cum.

    “Please, please, please” Wanda begs, grasping the sheets so hard its a wonder they don’t tear, “Please knot me, please”

    James grunts, a bit surprised at first that she knows enough about werewolf anatomy and breeding to know of a knot, but when he remembers their admittance of wanting this for a long time he gets the idea that they may have looked into it just to understand the two of you better. And that thought has his knot instantly growing. It slams into Wanda's pussy a few times, and feeling how big it is she nearly changes her mind, but with a final hard shove from him, it slips inside her

   “Ooh god!” she moans as his hot cum practically pours inside her, sending her into her yet another orgasm

   As Nat watches Wanda practically collapse from exhaustion and pleasure  her excitement of being knotted by you nearly doubles and she does her best to turn her head to face you

   “Please baby, I want your knot.” she whimpers, “I need it”

   Her admittance has your knot growing, and she can’t help but moan as it slams against her. Then, without warning it slips inside fully and locks into place, and she swears she cums so hard she sees white as your seed seemingly endlessly pumps into her. She also practically collapses, so you and James both ease them into a prone position as you both gently lay on top of them, and without meaning to they both begin to drift off.

   By the time they come back around, you and JAmes are human again, and are spooning them from behind. Large smiles envelope their faces as they realize that you both not only stayed but you had also cleaned them up a bit

   “Ah, you're awake” James says from behind Wanda. She hums in acknowledgement but its NAtasha that speaks

   “Hopefully not for long. Just wanted to check on the two of you”

   “We’re fine, love” you assure, pressing a kiss to her still bare shoulder, “And we aren’t going anywhere”

   “Besides, how much safer could the two of you be now that your guards sleep in the same bed as you” James teases, causing all of you to chuckle

   “Promise you’ll be here?” Wanda mumbles, clearly only moments away from returning to slumber

   James squeezes her a bit tighter as you answer, “We promise”

   She give you a sleepy smile, “I love you all”

   “Love you too detka(baby)” Nat replies before James and you answer in unison

   “We love you too”

   Nat smiles as her girlfriend closes her eyes, “I also love you both”

   “And we love you too” you answer

   “Indeed we do” James says, nearly drifting off to sleep himself

   “Sleep now” Nat tells him, turning to look at you, “You as well.”

   “Mkay” you admit with a yawn, pulling her even closer

   And as the Countess feels the love and warmth of her three lovers around her, she knows that any risks that come with such a relationship, potential hybrid children and all, will be absolutely worth it if it means she gets to have this for the rest of time

[sansaorgana]

I’ve never understood why we shoot off fireworks in the USA for the 4th, I just feel like it could trigger some of our veterans and it makes me feel awful! Could you write something like this with Buck?

hello! 💖 in my country we only shoot them on new year's eve but since I own two cats, I hate them 😡 one of my cats is so terrified each time that he literally has spasms 😥 the older he gets, the more worried I am each new year's eve tbh 😐 anyway, thank you for your request! 🎆 I was actually thinking of something like this with Buck!

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

It was the first Independence Day after the war and you were excited that you would celebrate it with your husband for the first time in two years. Especially now, after the victory, it felt more special than ever.

You decided to throw a barbecue for your befriended neighbours and you had been preparing the house and the garden for the whole week – putting up decorations with Buck’s help and cleaning everything. In the last two days you had also been busy with cooking meals and preparing salads while Buck had been supplying your fridge with everything needed for the barbecue – all sorts of meat, vegetables and sodas.

The only thing you hadn’t bought were the fireworks. You wanted to save some money, especially after hearing that different neighbours down the street were preparing a real show anyway. Surprisingly, Buck had agreed to that pretty quickly although you had expected him to try to convince you to get your own fireworks. Not because he had ever been a big fan of them but he never liked it when you were using the “saving money” argument. Whenever you would use it in different situations – like deciding whether to buy a dress or not – he would say “if it makes you happy, we can afford that”. And he knew very well that this barbecue party was making you happy.

However, you didn’t ask about it because it didn’t seem to be significant enough and you completely forgot about it anyway, too busy with all the preparations.

The barbecue started in the afternoon and the weather was beautiful on that day – clear, blue skies above you, giving you a perfect view of the fireworks here and there in the distance. You were handing the bottles of beer and coke to the guests while Buck was in charge of the barbecue when one of the neighbours asked a question that made you freeze.

“Damn, it’s like back there again, is it not?” He chuckled at Buck.

His name was Frank and he had been to Europe as well but not as a pilot. He was obviously referring to the fireworks in the background as he tried to turn it into a joke but his wife Helen hissed at him.

You suddenly realised that the sound of fireworks was not the same to everyone and you looked at your husband, worried. He might have seemed to be pretty alright after the horrors he had endured but you knew him better than everyone else and you knew. You knew about his nightmares and panic attacks. They were rare but they still were happening, sometimes triggered by the things you had never thought of before as threatening. Like with the fireworks.

“I don’t pay attention to them,” Buck gave Frank a kind smile. “My brain just shuts the sound off at this point,” he explained and he seemed to be genuine in his answer, which made you sigh in relief.

You went back to handing out the sodas and glanced at the watch on your hand. It was half an hour until the fireworks show promised by the neighbours living down the street.

When everyone had a bottle of their chosen beverage already, you joined your husband’s side to help him with the meat and vegetables. Rubbing his arm softly and laughing at the jokes being told by the others, you felt happy and satisfied with your life. Finally, after such a long time, it was back to normal, you thought. Well, nearly.

Everyone was sitting by the table in your garden and talking when you realised you had forgotten to bring mustard and ketchup.

“I’ll get it,” Buck smiled at you and stood up.

“Grab me a can of coke from the fridge, too, darling,” you told him and he nodded before disappearing inside the house.

A short moment later, the fireworks show started. Your neighbours living down the street had to spend a real fortune on it because the fireworks were many and very, very loud. You gasped and watched in awe as others stood up and cheered.

You, Helen and Frank were the only ones left sitting by the table. From the corner of your eye, you spotted that Frank’s face changed. He was no longer smiling and his skin lost some of its colour. Helen was squeezing his shaky hands and whispering something to him.

A very loud firework made you flinch while others screamed out of joy and Frank jumped on his seat. You stood up rapidly, realising that Buck hadn’t come back from the house yet.

“Helen, listen,” you leaned in to talk to her despite the noise. “You can go inside with Frank, it’s okay,” you assured her.

“Thank you,” she mouthed out with gratitude in her eyes before urging him to stand up and follow her inside.

You, however, weren’t waiting for them because you were rushing to the house yourself. You froze at the sight of your husband sitting by the kitchen table and hiding his face in his shaky hands. In fact, his whole body trembled and there was a broken bottle of mustard in the middle of the floor. He had to drop it when the fireworks show started.

Your heart broke at the sight. Your Buck was the strongest and the bravest man you knew. You would always go to him when you needed comfort or help because he was so capable of making everything – everything – better. He was good at fixing things in the physical sense but he was also always comforting you with his kindness and calm nature. He would never panic about anything and you had always admired him for that.

In moments like this, you felt helpless because you couldn’t take his pain away. And if you could, you would. He had already suffered so much that from now on, you’d rather suffer for him. But you were also angry – angry at the war for taking place and breaking him so much.

“Darling…” You started slowly and crouched down in front of him, carefully, trying not to startle him. He didn’t seem to acknowledge your presence, though. “Darling…” You repeated and put your hands on his trembling thighs.

He flinched and you shushed him while tears streamed down your cheeks. 

“Shh, shh, baby, it’s me, it’s okay, you’re home,” you tried to soothe him. “You’re with me now, you’re safe,” you assured but it was not working.

You took a deep breath in and moved up now, to stand above him. You put your hands on Buck’s ears, trying to shield him away from the noise coming from the outside. And then, gently, you pulled his face closer to you and pressed it to your tummy. You leaned in to kiss the top of his head and whisper sweet nothings that were supposed to calm him down and after a while it seemed to be working. You could feel his muscles relaxing and eventually he stopped hiding his face in his hands and wrapped his arms around your waist instead, clinging to you like a little boy.

When the fireworks show stopped and it was quiet again, you moved your hands away from Buck’s ears and began to rub his back soothingly instead.

“It’s alright now, baby, you’re home with me. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” you promised in a whisper, sniffing back your own tears.

Buck looked up at you with teary eyes and you cupped his face to wipe his tears off of his cheeks with your thumbs. You let your fingers trace his scars and your lower lip trembled. Not that you minded those scars – not at all – but they were yet another reminder of what horrors he had been through. And he was just a man – as weak and scared as everyone else; only forced to be brave.

You understood now why he was scared of having a son with you one day. He was scared of another war coming sooner or later and he was scared of his own child going through what he had gone through.

You feared that, too. And you didn’t even fully know what had happened in Europe. Only the men who had been there knew. Women – especially those who had stayed back home – they would never understand.

“Are you back with me now, my love?” You asked, gently. Buck nodded after a while of hesitation.

“Sorry ‘bout the mustard,” he mumbled out and you chuckled as you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter, darling,” you assured him.

But you were grateful that Buck’s panic attacks were like that. Perhaps it was wrong to be grateful for such things but you had heard enough stories of triggered men who would do much worse things while having panic attacks.

“I’m sorry…” He breathed out as fresh tears pricked his eyes.

“Don’t,” you interrupted him as you crouched down again and held his hands now to squeeze them tight. “Don’t, Gale, please, don’t ever apologise for that,” you pleaded and he looked down.

“I didn’t expect them to be so loud and so… Close. I… I suddenly wasn’t in our kitchen anymore but back in the air, up in the fort and the Germans were shooting at us and I was trying to focus on flying but deep down I was just… I was just praying to get back home to you and all I could see was your face when they tell you I’m dead and…” He started and you pursed your lips to stop your own tears from falling.

“I know, baby, I know. But it’s over now, yes? You’re back home with me, safe and sound,” you reminded him and leaned in to place a kiss upon one of his hands.

You heard footsteps behind you. It was Helen peeking inside shyly. You turned around to shake your head at her and she gave you an understanding look before walking out without a word.

“Let’s clean up now, yes?” You let go of Buck’s hands and fixed your hair before standing up clumsily.

You occupied yourself with cleaning the mess from the broken mustard bottle and Buck washed his face with cold water in the kitchen sink. You handed him some of the paper towels you were using so he could dry his face.

“You’ve missed the fireworks show because of me,” he pointed out.

“God damn those fireworks shows, Buck!” You exclaimed. “God damn them. I don’t want to see any ever again. I’m sorry that I didn't think that it would… That it would scare you like that,” you apologised.

“Well, it takes time to come to terms with the fact that your husband is a coward now,” Buck sighed and so did you, while throwing the used paper towels into the trash bin aggressively.

“My husband is not a coward and has never been. However, that self-pity attitude is new to me,” you told him and he turned his head around to look at you. “My husband is the bravest man I know,” you added. “He is my hero. And I don’t allow you to talk about him this way, you hear me? I have defended him from all the women in town telling me that men in the captive camps were no real heroes and I will defend him from you, too, when you’re so mean to him, Buck, I mean it.”

“Stop, or I’ll cry again,” he shook his head and sniffled.

There was a hint of a smile on his face and it made you grin as well before you approached him and wrapped your arms around him to hug him tight.

“I love my wife, too. The most in the whole wide world,” he assured you and hugged you back while pressing his lips to the top of your head but you could still understand his words. “I wasn’t brave, really, I wasn’t. I just did everything it took to come back to you.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[venusskissed]

𝐏𝐀𝐂 - 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐒 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝟏𝟖+

🪽 this pick a pack/pile is focusing on your FS’ sexual energy towards you in (or out) of the bedroom. or, if you aren’t too curious of your FS or not into marriage you can replace it with someone you are interested in/your soulmate/life long partner. whatever suits your cup pretty doll. 🫶🏻

#P01 #P02 #P03

 — ౨ৎ : close your eyes and take a deep breath, then choose the pile your eyes landed on. it’s also fine to choose multiple or the one you felt drawn to from the get go either because of intuition or something else. do what best suits you. 💖

🧾ㅤㅤ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. This is an intimate pile for adults. There is a reason for that, it is not meant to be viewed by minors as it’s too explicit and not meant for you. I don’t care if you think you are mature or ready to view it, these warnings exist for a good reason.

pile 01

⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀⠀💭 ace of swords, the star, ace of pentacles, wolf, swan, rat

please keep in mind that this is a very general reading, a lot of things will come through and some of it will resonate while some things might not. focus on things that do, as they are meant for you and the rest is possibly for somebody else.

hello my beautiful pile one! 🫶🏻 right of the bat I can tell that your chosen one thinks the world of you. in their eyes you are the most beautiful woman/man/person that there ever was or will ever be. some of you might agree with this, some of you might not, but that doesn’t matter. nothing in this world can make them change their opinion of you, they love every curve of your body, the feeling of your skin, your scent, the way you talk and the way you move they can’t help but get needy by it. you make them horny but in a really desperate way. even if your body isn’t curvy there is something about it that they can’t get out of their head; to them it’s just simply perfect.

they might even fantasise about you quite often, if not on the daily. the thought of you could very easily make them hard/wet. not in a slight way, rather very visibly and faster than they would like to admit. for most people this is a man, or someone who was born as one so they could often fantasise about slowly entering you and then fastening up the pace to drive you crazy, or if it’s a woman they could want you to do this to them. (for the submissive sapphic women & submissive straight men this is still very possible through pegging 🫶🏻) the thing they seem to enjoy about it is the visuals of you being hard/wet or perhaps the wetness, cum or lube creating a shine on your bodies which makes it aesthetically appealing. as well as your noises! they really like your moans, sighs, whines and perhaps even screams.

they seem to worship your body, mind and soul pile one. and while I know a lot of readings say that it is with a good reason. in their eyes you are the star, it doesn’t get better than you and they don’t even want it to. they are very much in awe by everything you do. I can see you arching your back a lot in pleasure, exposing your entire body to them while they are thrusting inside you/going down on you and their mind goes foggy because they just adore every single little thing about you. they don’t know if they should continue, do something else for bigger reactions or touch your beautiful body all over. (their words, in no way am I trying to sexualise you.)

while we are at that topic they also seem to have a strong desire to let you know they would do anything for you. literally anything you ask as long as it’s nothing too extreme. they would even switch positions for you (if they are a dom become submissive for you and wise versa), try out things they didn’t hear of before and what you might be curious of, try out things they aren’t into (public, swallowing, letting you have full control if you wish etc.).. your wish is their command, truly.

they might even get mad if anything or anyone interrupts them from giving you the utmost pleasure that you deserve. not in a toxic way, but rather they want to give you all the attention that you deserve. not a single thing can get their mind off you, and they don’t want to let you go ‘just yet’. they might be someone who enjoys making the entire process long when possible, could possibly be into rounds. they want to be the best you ever had. your best choice ever. your greatest. anything of those lines.

their higher self also wants to brag a bit, it’s kinda funny. however it’s not with any bad intentions, they just want you to know that they are capable of pleasing you and they will. the thing they really want to brag about is their body. If you have a preference for men their private era could be really big and whatever you consider pretty. big as in long and possibly thick too. if you have a preference for women their chest era could be bigger and their skin could be really smooth. (again, I am in no way trying to sexualise you or your FS, it’s just something they want you to know.)

they could also be protective of you in general. for some of you this person is a few years older than you so that might be the reason why. they can see through certain situations than you do thus having this desire to take care of you, to be there for you! this would translate into the bedroom too, they will always make sure you are comfortable, enjoying yourself and feel the absolute best you can. very big on after care too, they will massage your body if it’s sore, watch things with you, talk with you and reassure you. tell you what’s in their heart, how well you did and how much they love you. their favourite would be cuddling with you, possibly spooning while having deep heartfelt conversations with you. they are truly your lover boy/girl/person. hopelessly devoted to you~

this pile also has a very healing energy for the both of you. either you, them or possibly both of you. although the energy is coming through more for them for majority of this pile. though, you know yourself best, if you know this will be a healing connection for you I will trust you. 🫶🏻

your person could have had a past experience that left them quite scarred and have an unhealthy relationship with sex and intimate things in general. there are mixed messages coming through but for majority of this pile they became closed off and unwilling to look at it as anything that could possibly be a positive thing. for a very small portion of the readers it’s the opposite, meaning they could have became over sexual. (or possibly you two could be opposites, you have to trust your intuition with this.) either way it affected their mental health quite a lot. now I am not saying they would rely on you entirely to make their life better, to heal them completely and always drop anything for them. they aren’t asking you to push your limits. rather they gain energy from you being yourself. your words, actions, behaviour, opinions and the way you are will make them realise that they aren’t as repulsed by intimacy as they thought. that it’s okay to have natural urges and don’t be too hard on themselves since it. more than anything this feels like letting go of shame and allowing one’s self to live.

𐙚ᅠ what are their kinks?

there is a lot coming through this pile so please bear with me sweet sweet dolly 🫶🏻

first and foremost hair pulling seems to be a kink of theirs. not something they are huge on but do a lot regardless. possibly not even noticing that you are doing it or wishing for it. doesn’t seem to be a fetish they just enjoy it quite a lot.

something they are consciously loving is breeding kink though. which, might sound scary or possibly very unpleasant for many people reading this but don’t worry, they just enjoy the feeling of cumming inside you/you having an orgasm inside them. (I am really sorry for saying it that way, there is really no nicer way to say it.) so, they just really enjoy creampies. so make sure to keep yourselves protected my beautiful pile one!!! 🫶🏻 (most of you won’t listen but it’s okay.)

they might just really be into cum play in general.

size kink seems to be their thing too! it could manifest in many different kind of ways such as height difference or being aroused by the size of specific body parts. & for the people who are nervous about the height difference thing.. they mean well, nothing harmful! they might just really enjoy feeling needed and as if they can protect their partner. they want you to rely on them and feel safe, and to them personally this would be a visual representation of it.

they might really be into relationship dynamics such as gloomy x excited one, sunshine x sunshine protector, mean x sweet one. (if you have a hard time imagining this think of jade x cat or ymir x krista)

and of course, for some of you they could have a worship kink.

other things that might be relevant: ‘nah, baby I am a train wreck too. I loose my mind when it comes to you. I take my time with the ones I choose and I don’t want a smile if it ain’t from you’, red, doodle?, ‘take a hint’, plush fish/shark, jelly, cold, pom-poms, boyloves, cars, multilingual, chain, cross

🦢 that is all my beautiful pile one! thank you for your precious time, I hope you enjoyed this PAC! 🫶🏻 please keep in mind that this is a reading on current energies, these can change anytime! I am sorry for any spelling mistakes as english isn’t my first language and I haven’t proof read yet! 💖

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶

pile 02

⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀⠀💭 five of swords, the tower, nine of cups, deer, monkey, lady bird

please keep in mind that this is a very general reading, a lot of things will come through and some of it will resonate while some things might not. focus on things that do, as they are meant for you and the rest is possibly for somebody else.

⚠️: I can see that some of you who chose this pile are in abusive relationships. If that’s not you, that’s wonderful. however if you unfortunately resonate with that and feel like you have to do stuff you don’t want to please leave or reach out to trusted sources for help.

hello my beautiful pile two 🫶🏻 first of all I would like to say that wow, this is so much different from pile one. this one shocked me quite a lot because I didn’t expect it. before you continue I would like to warn that this pile is very kinky, for half of you your person is heavily into bdsm and for the other half.. well, they are still very kinky just not to the extremes. so if you are uncomfortable with such things I recommend stepping away as this might not be your pile or just to wait until you are ready to read about it. of course, it’s your choice I just felt like some people reading this are inexperienced or aren’t used to a person like this.

with that said, I know some of you are rolling your eyes ‘but I would like that-‘ stop ✋ that was not for you bby, whatever you are into (I hope) comes right now.

I would like to start with saying your person has a degradation kink. mostly in a verbal way, they could have a preference for giving too. I don’t see them minding receiving, but they prefer to give it. such as slapping you during the act, dirty talk, speaking down on you, possibly spitting on you and cursing at you. there is a very assertive and aggressive energy here.

although I would like to say that they wouldn’t proceed to do any of it without your consent or permission. this person still seems loving, caring, thoughtful and attentive of your needs. they find you hot and adore your body. they just happen to have rough preferences.

they could like positions that require back hugs while thrusting inside you/being thrusting into. so possibly something that involves spooning so they can kiss your cheek or neck during it. shoulders too.

for most of you your fs/chosen person could go out of their way to make you feel loved after a rough round as they could have a tendency to challenge your limits. so they could possibly prefer to have second rounds or a make out session after so they can make you feel loved, appreciated and so you are aware that they don’t want to harm you or wish bad for you. of course, they wouldn’t neglect after care it’s just their way of making sure you know they do love you.

I also heard ‘it’s all just a play’ so they could be really into role playing, especially things that show a clear power dynamic between you two. so after all that they could/will possibly kiss your body all over while praising you and expressing their affection for you.

however they are still very kinky and before any of that could happen they will be making a mess out of you. for some of you they could want to tie you up (your wrists) with ropes or those adult play handcuffs.. you know, with some fluff. blindfold you and just hit it from behind (literally how their guides said it) while whispering into your ear. they seem to have an enjoyment of triggering your senses. it turns them on because it turns you on. they also enjoy seeing your body shiver and be more sensitive as it usually would be. they could be into overstimulation too, honestly.

gender doesn’t really seem to play a role here because they would want to do these things to you either way. though if you are a man or was born as one I would like to point out they would really like to tease your balls (might like to suck on it), and they could possibly want to ride you while you are blindfolded.

unfortunately I am not too similar with the name of toys so you will have to bear with me here.. </3 if you are a man/was born as one your person definitely wants to try out a cock ring (?) on you as long as you allow them, if you are a woman/was born as one they could possibly want you to wear those panty vibrators they can control. now I really don’t know the name of this one but do you know the name of those bdsm balls that goes into the mouth? it has straps at the side. they could be into that too

they could also look at you as a prize, not in a toxic way though but rather that they are the only one allowed to touch, see and make you feel this way. It makes them feel fulfilled, it feeds their ego and they honestly love it. they might even like to have public sex or make you so loud the whole neighbourhood hears you. or at least fantasise about it. they want everyone to know you are theirs and no one else can have you. maybe they want people to see you? but not your naked body, just enough to know they are making you feel good, driving you crazy.

If you have ever read ‘painter of the night’ your person reminds me of seungho. their ego, kinks, acts of affection, jealousy, possessiveness, stamina and teasing seem to be pretty much similar.

I also want to point out that the reason your FS/chosen person would go this far it that they are aware that you have been fantasising about such things for a while but couldn’t exactly get the chance to live it out. in fact many people who chose this pile might be virgins, curious, curious ones. (ofc not all of you.) so in a way they just want to please you, allow you to live your wildest fantasies out. of course, they enjoy it too but their focus is fully on you.

you might be someone that has really specific kinks but is shy about them and doesn’t have anyone to talk with about it or perhaps any way to healthily live it out. so they want to be there for you, be the one.

they want you to trust them, show you how good they can make you feel and that they are always ready to pleasure you whenever you need them. just say the words and they are on their knees.. or whatever position you want them to be in.

𐙚ᅠ what are their kinks?

I feel like we have pretty much everything since your person doesn’t seem to look at sex as a deeper spiritual/emotional act aside from taking care of your needs and making sure you know they do love you wholeheartedly, but I will still try to do my best to gather/organise everything that comes through.

bdsm. self explanatory, they mostly want to use toys on you and trigger your senses in order for you to feel everything in a deeper manner. (as in more intensely)

edging! they could/will/do enjoy teasing your body and withholding you from orgasming multiple times. they enjoy to see your body shake under their touch and hear your whines. and of course, they enjoy that it makes your orgasms more intense/stronger.

blindfolds. being blindfolded or blindfolding you.. they don’t really care, they just enjoy it being involved.

possibly being watched. it’s like bragging to them, rubbing it into people’s face (not literally..), making sure they know that your person owns you.

consensual r-*play. this is for a very small portion of you but if this doesn’t seem like your thing please do not force yourself to do things just for the sake of pleasing others. if it’s something you are into I won’t judge, just be safe.

other things that might be relevant: 80s/90s/00s songs or era in general, gojo, playlist, bts, butterfly, barbie phone (??), diary, manifestation, shy, shine, that one scene in euphoria, back massage, spanking, marks, snap, sounds, fantasia (?)

🦢 that is all my beautiful pile two! thank you for your precious time, I hope you enjoyed this PAC! 🫶🏻 please keep in mind that this is a reading on current energies, these can change anytime! I am sorry for any spelling mistakes as english isn’t my first language and I haven’t proof read yet! 💖

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶

pile 03

⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀⠀💭 justice, king of swords, two of cups, monkey, owl, camel

please keep in mind that this is a very general reading, a lot of things will come through and some of it will resonate while some things might not. focus on things that do, as they are meant for you and the rest is possibly for somebody else.

hello my beautiful pile three! 🫶🏻 this is by far the calmest pile, there is a very calm, sure, confident and well balanced out energy here, it’s honestly quite refreshing.

are you a person who asks for signs a lot? because some people’s guides here seem pretty annoyed. they have been sending them but you either ignore them or miss them so they would like to kindly ask you to please pay attention to this reading! unfortunately it might be shorter than the other two piles but regardless I will try to expand on things as much as possible.

so, first of all I would like to start of with that this person is older than you so this is definitely an age gap relationship. I am talking older than 6 years~ they seem like a very serious person and quite honestly their current energy is stressed.

I don’t think they are focused on sex, or intimate things in general at the moment. they have very little experience and for some of you they have been saving themselves for marriage. (yes, even if they are older.) this could be either because of religious reasons or their very own principles. either way they look at sharing their body with someone as something very intimate, special, something that only the love of their life is deserving of. they look at it in a very precious light, it’s something they treasure.

now, they do not mind if you have more experience than them. it’s just that for them there needs to be a special connection before they allow someone to have access to their body and the other way around. they don’t wish to engage in anything sexual or intimate (so, even if it’s a kiss.) unless they are in love with the person. if there are no mutual feelings involved this person will one hundred precent be uninterested. so, I will be honest with you pile three, your future spouse/chosen person might very well be demisexual. (for those who are unaware it’s a form of asexuality. demisexual people can still have and enjoy sex, however they will need a strong bond in order to go that far. I recommend searching it up if that resonates. 🫶🏻)

because of this they might be unaware of some if not most of their kinks. or even be lost about why some things might be appealing to people. their energy is really disinterested.

not necessarily in you though. for you pile three they would be shy, needy and want to try out many things. it’s just that they have zero desires aside from you. you will awaken a lot of things inside them, make them realise many things about themselves that they never had any idea about. for some of you, you might be the first person (and probably last) to ever get them hard/wet or possibly you would be the first ever reason they orgasm. it’s not like they have problems, your body just has that kind of affect on them.

they find you beautiful, every inch of you. they could really like your waist and skin. if you have a darker skin tone (tan to black) they are over the moon. not in a fetish kind of way, they just find you beautiful. your beauty is enough to turn them on honestly, you don’t even have to be naked. If you are though they will be the neediest, clingiest person ever. kissing every inch of your body between praises. sucking and biting your skin as they grab your thighs, ass, waist, play with your chest.. whatever you let them. they just want to feel you under their hands. to know you are there, to know you are theirs.

they also really like the way you taste, especially if you like sweets. (they just really wanted me to highlight this… do some of you like pineapples?)

if you are on the chubbier side they love it. some of you might be really anxious about your body type but they honestly think you are the most beautiful ever. at times they could/will stare at you in awe, checking you up and down and getting turned on just by the sight. might even bite their lip. they seem to really really like your stomach, waist, hips and butt. their energy is still shy but they are one horny mf.

they will want to make love to you on some kind of desk, possibly have many fantasies of it. (not exactly the words their guides used, but it felt wrong to use for this pile.) honestly some of you might be coworkers even despite the age gap.

despite their lack of experience they seem to know what they like, which is you bending over and screaming their name while you whine, moan and cry uncontrollably from pleasure.

do you guys know that one ship that started as a joke? nanami x tiana. you two remind me of that.

𐙚ᅠ what are their kinks?

possibly something with clothes. maybe massaging them through pants/skirt or having sex with clothes on. they seem to be curious of ripping them off you too but they are unsure if they would like the after math of it. (aka destroyed clothes)

they seem to have a thing for sun x moon dynamic. as in polar opposites. it could possibly turn them on for some reason. (ofc they still want to have things in common)

possibly blowjob under the desk while they are working.. they seem to be curious about how far they could go before it gets too good? as in before the feeling of pleasure makes it impossible to focus.

unfortunately I cannot tell you more than this as they seem very unsure too. </3

other things that could be relevant: ‘finally your dreams come true’, princess and the frog (seriously), ‘almost there, closer closer everyday’, sneezes, scarfs & earmuffs, eyeshadow, dinner date, romance/romantic/romantica, books, acts of service, sweets

🦢 that is all my beautiful pile three! thank you for your precious time, I hope you enjoyed this PAC! 🫶🏻 please keep in mind that this is a reading on current energies, these can change anytime! I am sorry for any spelling mistakes as english isn’t my first language and I haven’t proof read yet! 💖

[maidragoste]

Chapter One: The Reaping

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader (I labeled it that even though Jace's backstory is different from Katniss's but he and Reader will be the star-crossed lovers of district 12)

Chapter Two Chapter Three

I really hope you like it because I'm so excited to write this au!

Please let me know what you think in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys entered the Victors' Village, not that he was a victor. In fact, his name had never come up in the reaping. But he and his brothers lived there since his uncle Larys took care of them after his father died in the middle of an explosion in the mines while working.

The teenager quickly quickened his pace while adjusting his grip on the only two squirrels he had brought from all the ones he had hunted during the morning with Baela, his best friend. He may not have needed to hunt for food anymore but he was one of the few people in District 12 who knew how to hunt. Some people had depended on bartering with his father to bring a plate of food to his table. His father would not have wanted him to leave those people abandoned, so every day he sneaks into the forest with Baela to look for deer, rabbits, squirrels, birds, fish, or any type of edible vegetable or fruit. He always gave the best goods to Baela, after all, she had more mouths to feed with her mother, her twin sister, and her two little brothers. But the rest he exchanged with the merchants or even sometimes he practically ended up giving away his merchandise due to the low price that he was willing to accept from the families that he knew did not have enough to eat to prevent them from ending up asking for more tesserae. Uncle Larys had never told him but Jacaerys knew that he thought he was a fool for doing that.

Jacaerys hated the silence in the village but it was no surprise considering that of the twelve houses there, the only house that was being inhabited was his uncle's. Of the seventy-three Hunger Games that have been held so far, there have only been two victors from District 12 and the only one still alive is Larys Strong.

Jace hurried into the house trying to ignore the heaviness in his stomach.

“I told you Luke would throw up again this year! You owe me!” was the first thing Joffrey, his youngest brother, said when he saw him.

Lucerys, or Luke as his dad had nicknamed him, was the middle brother, and every year he had the worst time during Repairing; which was the moment when the District escort went up to the podium and then took a random piece of paper from each glass urn, one containing the names of all the boys between twelve and eighteen years old and another with the names of the girls. This was how the tributes were chosen for each Hunger Games. Like any coherent person in District 12 Luke feared being chosen as a tribute and unlike Jacaerys he could not hide his fear.

“Take this to the kitchen,” the oldest of the brothers asked, handing the squirrels to Joffrey before running to the bathroom.

When Jacaerys entered he found Luke hunched over, holding the toilet bowl. Ignoring the smell of vomit he hurried to his brother's side and with one hand began to rub soothing circles on Luke's back while the other brushed the hair from his face. He doesn't know how many minutes they stayed like this until the youngest finally stopped vomiting.

"I'm sorry, Jace" Luke apologized with a broken voice and tears on his cheeks, clearly feeling ashamed for being in the same position for another year. "I really tried."

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for," Jacaerys denied as he helped him up from the floor. "It's okay to be afraid. Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid."

"Joffrey is not afraid," the youngest murmured after cleaning his face.

Joffrey must have been the only thirteen-year-old in District 12 who wasn't horrified at the thought of his name coming up in the Reaping. Jacaerys believed it was because Joff thought he would be able to win the games just by being a relative of a victor. Also, of the three, Joff seemed to want Uncle Larys's validation and attention the most. In these three years living with him he had never told them that he loved them but Jace thought that he should at least care a little about them because otherwise he could have let the authorities take them to the community orphanage instead of taking care of them.

"I told you, an idiot," Jace said, managing to get a small laugh out of Lucerys. "Listen, Luke. Everything will be fine. You never asked for a tessera so your name is only on four pieces of paper."

In the first year when you started to be part of the Reaping, they put your name only once in the bowl. But every time you have a birthday they add another paper with your name on it. If you do not ask for any tessera then it is assumed that you will reach the age of eighteen with only seven papers.

Jacaerys always tried to reassure his brother, and also himself, saying that the chances of his name coming up were low compared to all the people who had to ask for tesserae to be able to eat.

"Lucerys, Jacaerys, start getting ready for the Reaping" Larys ordered from below. There was no need for him to shout as the house was silent.

"Take a bath, you stink" Jacaerys mocked, ruffling Lucerys's hair before leaving him in the bathroom.

"Happy Hunger Games! and may the odds be ever in your favor!" greeted Effie Trinket, the District 12 companion, with the same excitement as in previous years.

While Effie gives a speech about what an honor it is for her to be there as a companion, Jacaerys's eyes meet Baela's. She smiles at him and he struggles to return it. Baela is so brave, he doesn't know how she isn't trembling with fear knowing that her name is at least twenty times. Maybe in recent years she was no longer asking for tesserae but before Jacaerys moved in with his uncle she had.

"Ladies first!" said Effie announcing that it was time for the drawing. She approaches the urn with the girls' names and then reaches deep inside and takes out a piece of paper. You can feel the tension in the air and for a moment everyone seems to hold their breath until Effie opens the paper and I read it "Y/n Y/l!"

Shit. Jacaerys knew you. He had seen you more than once at the bakery when he went to buy or exchange his merchandise with your father. Not only that but you two share classes together at school. You weren't friends. But you were still there for his brothers when he was too devastated by the death of his father to care about anyone else. You were the one who stopped some idiots from bothering Luke at school, you were the one who helped Joffrey with his homework to prevent him from repeating a grade, and you, in the only conversation you ever shared, reminded him that he was important to the District, that his brothers needed him, that he could not abandon them, that his father would not have wanted to see him as a ghost in life, that he would have wanted him to help the people of the District.

Jace had to go say goodbye to you, his gratitude may be three years late but he needed to thank you for taking care of his brothers when he had failed them and remind him that he had a purpose.

Jacaerys watches you move towards the stage. Your posture is straight, your chin up and your steps are firm but he can see the uncertainty in your eyes. You still look pretty in your pink dress, it wasn't glamorous at all—no one in the district wears glamorous clothes—but in his eyes, you stood out. It's probably because, unlike other girls in the district, your clothes didn't hang off and your bones didn't show, you didn't look like someone who was malnourished.

Maybe with your beauty and if you had a good interview you could get lucky and captivate a sponsor, he thought. He hoped that this year his uncle would try even harder to bring home a winner.

Once you are on stage Effie asks for volunteers. Of course, no one offers.

“Now it's time to meet our male tribute!” Effie announces, rushing to the boys' urn and pulling out the first piece of paper she sees, “Lucerys Strong!”

This must be a nightmare, Jacaerys thought. They were supposed to be safe, they had never asked for tesserae. He was snapped out of his stupor by hearing Joffrey's desperate cries calling for Luke as his brother began to walk with fear and tears in his eyes to the stage. Jace didn't even think about it, he broke out of his formation and started running after Lucerys.

“I'm a volunteer!” he shouted when the peacekeepers grabbed him, wanting to take him away from Lucerys. “I volunteered as a tribute!” he repeated, standing up straight, once they released him.

"Magnificent!" Effie exclaimed, happy because there was finally some action in the District. "But you are supposed to present the winner of the reaping first and then ask for volunteers…"

"Just let him up," the mayor interrupted her sharply, clearly upset by the situation. He knew Jacaerys because he always bought strawberries from him and Baela.

“No, Jace!” Lucerys said with a trembling voice, still shaking her head. “You can't!”

“Go to Joffrey” the eldest brother ordered firmly, he wanted to hug Luke but he was afraid that if he did he would also start crying and he couldn't do it knowing that the cameras were filming everything. He couldn't appear weak. “Go,” he repeated, pushing him aside and heading to the stage without looking back.

Jacaerys' brown eyes meet yours and the heaviness in his stomach increases. He would have to kill you if he wanted to come home, you, the person who pushed him to move forward after her father's death. He had never thanked you and much less would he do so now knowing that in a few days, he may be the one who ended up killing you. Obviously, luck was not on his side but if you died he really hoped that it would be another of the tributes who would end up taking your life. If it became him and he managed to win the games, Jacaerys was sure that there would not be a day in which he would not think of you.

"Wonderful!" Effie exclaimed once the young man finished climbing the stairs. "What's your name?"

"Jacaerys Strong," he answered.

"I'll bet my shoes he was your brother. You didn't want him to steal your glory, did you?" The companion's smile disappeared before the furious looks of the victor and the tributes. "Good! Let's give a big round of applause to our new tribute!"

But no one applauds. The entire District demonstrates its disagreement with its silence. Not only that, but many people begin to bring the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then point them at Jacaerys. He looks shocked as they give him that gesture. It was not a common thing to be used in the District but every once in a while, someone would do it during funerals. It was a gesture of giving thanks, of admiration, of farewell to a loved one. The same gesture they had made at his father's funeral. Jacaerys feels a lump form in his throat. He can't help but look at you, this was thanks to you, if you hadn't reminded him that the District needed him like they needed his dad then maybe he would have continued in silence staring into nothingness, living mechanically instead of starting to help people like his dad used to do.

The mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason. Once he finishes he instructs you and Jace to shake hands. Jacaerys notices that your hand is a little smaller than his and he feels warm against hiss. You catch him off guard when you squeeze his hand as if to encourage him. He returns the gesture even though he knows he shouldn't, it wasn't the time to become friends.

Tag: @valeskafics @agqrtz

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works: @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @partypoison00 @camy85 @fluffly @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft   @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel

I can't tag: @Snileykiddie08 @Bugheadskid @lauufeysonnn @sabi127 @cicaspair418 @sydneyyyya @Thanya-Targaryen @Sakuramochi1921 @marytargaryen

If you want to be part of my taglist

[kataang-week]

Trick or Treat, Kataangers!🎃

Katara and Aang sprites from Distant Horizon. Graphic created by Mod Belle @itsmoonpeaches.

🦇What is Kataang Halloween?

Kataang Halloween is a one-time, three-day mini-event hosted and created by @kataang-week on Tumblr for the first time this year. (However, there is potential for it to happen again in the future.) Kataang Halloween celebrates Kataang with a Halloween theme. All prompts were chosen by the mod team.

🦇Cool, when is it?

Kataang Halloween starts on Thursday, October 31, 2024, and ends on Saturday, November 2, 2024.

🦇What are the prompts?

In honor of Halloween, we're using lucky number 13! There are 13 prompts for each adventure.

"Trick" prompt list:

Old Spirits

Family Secrets

Altered State

Moonlight

Teeth

Demon Claws

The Deep

Offerings

Inner Palace

Lost

Grotto

Cliff Edge

Poison

"Treat" prompt list:

Taffy

Candied Haws

Lanterns

Mid-Autumn

Mooncake

Crunchy Leaves

Warm Drinks

Pumpkins

Chrysanthemum

Sharing

Toadstools

Apple Picking

Paint

🦇So how does this work?

Choose your own adventure! You can take inspiration from the Trick prompts, Treat prompts, or both! Feel free to mix and match prompts to create spooky and/or sweet Kataang content.

Anything you can think of counts as content as long as you fill one or multiple prompts at a time. Fanfics, fanart, gifsets, metas, edits, playlists, moodboards, music, etc.—the sky's the limit.

🦇What are the rules?

Please create your own original pieces. We do not accept AI-made fanworks.

We only accept new works created for Kataang Halloween, not works that are retroactively said to be created for Kataang Halloween. However, you may create something that fills a Kataang Halloween prompt for an ongoing work like a chapter fic or an ongoing series. See this ask for more information.

We accept all range of works. However, bear in mind that this is an all-ages event. If your work contains themes or imagery that may be intended for older audiences, tag and warn people thoroughly. Works with adult content must have an all-ages appropriate preview.

Do not repost other people's works. Reblog their original post if one exists.

If a creator/author/artist has requested you to post their work for them, remember to credit the original and link back to their page.

Be respectful in your fanworks and to others participating or enjoying the event.

🦇How should I tag my work?

The easiest way for us to find your work so we can reblog it to this blog is by using the tag “kataang halloween”. Using “kataang” and “kataangtag” also help. You must tag one of the three in your first five tags otherwise it doesn’t appear in the search. It is also helpful to tag us directly with @kataang-week.

Sometimes even properly tagged posts may not appear when we search the tags, so if you do not see your content reblogged, please let us know.

Once we’ve reblogged it to this blog we add our own tags (a prompt tag and a user tag) for easy organization. This means we can find all the work for one prompt or all the work from one user in one easy click (this also means that if you have changed your username since participating last year you need to let us know so we can update your tag!).

🦇Can I post my stuff other places online too?

Of course you can! However, we won’t be able to reblog anything that isn’t a Tumblr post.

For those of you who will be posting your works on AO3, feel free to add your fic to our Kataang Halloween AO3 collection.

🦇What if I have late submissions for Kataang Week 2024?

While we will not reblog any late submissions for Kataang Week 2024 during the Kataang Halloween event, late submissions for Kataang Week 2024 will still be accepted up until Kataang Week 2025, so don’t be shy and don’t worry about giving the world more Kataang content 💖 We always welcome it!

As always, if you have any questions, feel free to submit an ask to the Kataang Week blog. See you on Halloween, Kataangers!

🦇Who are the mods?

@airbender-dacyon AKA Mod Dan: A Kataang fanfic writer who prefers fluff, but also loves some drama and angst. Mod Dan started writing Kataang stories in 2013 and has helped organize Kataang Week since 2016.

@penguinsledder AKA Mod Atarah: A writer, gif maker, and musician–she enjoys fluffy young adult Kataang and all the ways they complement and parallel each other. She first joined Tumblr for Kataang Week 10 years ago, and started helping out with writing posts and making banners as a mod since 2016!

@itsmoonpeaches AKA Mod Belle: An avid Kataanger with a penchant for angst and mild violence who likes writing. Mod Belle has been a mod since 2021 and helps write posts and social media.

@chocomd AKA Mod Celes: Fanfic writer who adores Kataang for their fun and flirty side but also their bond forged through grief and loss. Mod Celes joined in 2023 and helps with a little bit of everything - whatever needs to be done!

[stellamarium]

I know I never talk about him, but here's a little fun fact about Zelos and his relationship with Lunaliya bc I was thinking about him.

Without a doubt, Zelos is a womanizer. His flirting antics don't change even after getting together with Liya, but despite being someone who easily gets jealous, she doesn't mind it much whenever Zelos flirts with another woman. It's part of who he is, and Liya understands that and has come to also love that part about him. She trusts him and knows that he isn't serious about them.

Zelos will call other women "his hunnies", but Liya is the only person he'll refer to as "his love", "his dearest", and "his light" (in more intimate/ serious settings). He'll refer to her by other terms of endearment ("sweetheart", "darling", "beloved", etc.) but never "hunny."

Some people mock Liya for that ("The two of you are dating, but he doesn't even call you 'hunny.' His feelings for you must not be that sincere") to which she'll just smile because they don't know a single thing.

[fresacake]

✍🏽 I WANT TO DRAW YOUR OC!!!🫵🔊🔊

I am going to be drawing ONE of your guys’ OC in my style!!! If you want to request a drawing of your little goober, please REBLOG *NOT DM OR ASK* this with a reference sheet of your oc! :D🎀💘

It would also really help me if you gave me a description with it as well; the more detailed the better since I’ll get a clearer idea of how to draw them!! The details can include literally anything and everything about them since I’m also using this as an excuse to hear about people’s rambles of their OCs!!🤭 💐 You can attach as many OCs as you want as well in your reblog, the more to choose from the merrier! The person will be chosen at random, good luck!!!!! 😁💖🌸 (UPDATE: SINCE THERE’S SO MANY ENTRIES, I’LL KEEP THIS POST UP SO I CAN DRAW ONE OF YOUR OCs WHENEVER I HAVE ARTBLOCK! THANK YOU!)

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 10

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

Bucky awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words. “Well, my mom is quite… eccentric.”

Even her own son admitted that Lydia was quite eccentric. She certainly acted like a woman from a wealthy family. She had also caused quite an uproar in town when people saw the wedding invitation that stated her husband would take her last name instead of the other way around.

In a small town, that decision was unique and controversial. Many husbands had their opinions, but no one dared to say it directly to Lydia. Everyone was somewhat afraid of her.

There was a rumor that the marriage wouldn't last long because it was one-sided love. But it's an old rumor.

“If her stares could kill, I’d be dead by now. I don't know what I did to make her hate me,” you muttered.

Bucky hesitated before speaking. “It's…”

“You know the reason?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

He walked closer to you, making you step back a bit. “If we become besties, I’ll tell you.”

'Best friends with you? Hell no!' You gave him a fake smile. “No, thank you.” Then you turned and left, determined to keep your distance from him.

“I knew you’d say that.” He pointed at you while chuckling. Then he whispered, “But why does it still hurt?”

🎨

While you were shopping at the grocery store, minding your own business in the sauce section, you heard a familiar voice, “I'm sorry.”

You pushed your shopping cart and saw a man kneeling down, picking up cans of beer from the ground. It looked like he had knocked over a beer display. From his hair and the pencil behind his ear, it was easy to figure out that it was Steve.

He looked as awkward as he had back in high school. Nobody helped him. You could have chosen to ignore him, but damn, your heart was getting soft.

Steve quickly picked up the beers, sensing someone was beside him. He assumed it was a store employee. “Sorry, I made more work for you.”

“You need to pay for all of this beer,” you said.

Steve realized it was you and looked up, surprised. “Could you pay it for me? I don’t have the money,” he said jokingly.

You rolled your eyes and picked up the last can of beer, fixing the display.

“Phew… I couldn’t have done it without you,” Steve said, relieved.

“Hmm,” you replied. Then you noticed the amount of beer in his shopping cart. “Having a house party?”

He looked back at his shopping cart. “Nah, just for me.”

“All of that…?” you murmured. Then you looked at his face. He tried to smile, but he looked sad, like you could see a dark cloud and rain pouring over him.

Steve sighed. “Hey, do you have some spare time?”

“Sure,” you replied.

Both of you finished shopping and then found a nearby café, settling into a quiet corner. Steve fidgeted with his phone, avoiding eye contact.

“The art school already replied,” he said, his voice tinged with disappointment. “They told me my portfolio doesn’t fit their criteria.” He looked dejected, his shoulders slumping as he spoke.

“Let me see the portfolio,” you said, reaching out your hand.

Steve hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone and showing you the pictures of his artwork. You took the phone, studying each piece carefully. As you scrolled through his work, you noticed the intricate details and the passion evident in every stroke.

Steve watched your face anxiously, trying to read your expression. His hands fidgeted on the table, betraying his nervousness.

“This is impressive,” you said, looking up at him with genuine admiration. “Coming from someone who frequently visits modern art museums, I can tell you these pieces are outstanding.”

Steve’s eyes lit up slightly, a flicker of hope returning. “Really? You think so?”

“That art school must be insane to reject this kind of art,” you affirmed.

You picked up your phone and called an art gallery owner who was one of your clients. After a brief conversation, the owner expressed interest in Steve’s work and wanted to meet him.

Steve looked astonished. “That was quick.”

“When you have status and connections, you can achieve a lot,” you said, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“Noted. Thanks,” Steve replied, his gratitude evident.

“In just a brief meeting, you’ve changed my life. You’re more thoughtful than anyone else I’ve ever met,” Steve said, his voice sincere.

You gave a small nod, internally wondering why you had helped him. Was it an act of charity?

Not really. Perhaps deep down, you felt that Steve reminded you of your old self. If you had never met Ransom, who opened your mind, you wouldn’t have known the real world outside of this town.

You weren’t close with Steve, but you had some similarities with him. Both of you were raised by single fathers. However, the difference was Steve’s father loved him, while your father, Tom, was an absent father.

Steve’s father loved him too much, not wanting to be separated from him. Mr. Rogers became paranoid after his wife died.

To summarize, Steve lived pretty much in a cage.

“It’s not free, though. I’ll charge you later after you sell your artwork,” you said, half-smiling.

Steve smirked. “I agree.”

🏎️

A few days later, on the weekend, you decided to drive around and find an automobile repair shop. The air conditioning in your dad's car wasn't working, and although Tom didn't seem bothered by it, you were. So, you took it upon yourself to get it fixed.

After driving around town, you finally found a repair shop. You got out of the car and went to the front desk, where a woman appeared to be engrossed in her phone and clearly bothered by the presence of a customer.

You knocked on the table to get her attention.

“I need to change the air filter for my air con,” you said.

“Wait in line,” she replied without looking up.

You looked around and saw there was no one else there. Was this really how they treated their customers?

You sighed inwardly. “Just give me the air con filter.”

Her eyes remained locked on her phone as she reached out and grabbed a box, handing it to you.

You clicked your tongue and handed her the money. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

Just as you were about to leave, the back door opened, and someone tall and imposing walked in. Instantly, your instincts kicked in, making you feel on guard.

Unexpectedly, you came face to face with one of Bucky's group, the biggest of them all. Thor. Like his namesake, he stood tall like a Greek god.

The cashier, who had previously ignored you, quickly brushed her hair and looked at Thor with puppy eyes.

Thor didn't even glance at her; his attention was on you. “No kidding. You’re back,” he said.

You gave a small nod. Back then, both of you were not friends. Thor was the loudest to laugh when you were made fun of. Standing tall like a tower, he was always the first to tell Bucky and their group when you were near.

He was known around town as a future NASCAR driver. Although you weren’t interested in car racing, a small part of you was curious whether Thor had made it to NASCAR or not. Maybe you’d ask Steve later.

“Something wrong with your old man’s car?” Thor asked with a smile.

You showed him the box you bought. “Just needed some spares.”

Thor stepped closer, his presence looming. “Need any help with that?”

You hesitated, feeling the awkward tension in the air. “I think I can manage.”

He chuckled, an awkward sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always were stubborn.”

You gave a tight-lipped smile. “And you were always…persistent.”

The cashier was still eyeing Thor, trying to catch his attention, but he seemed oblivious to her attempts. The silence grew uncomfortable, the memories of high school taunts and laughs hanging between you.

“Well, if you change your mind,” Thor said, gesturing to the repair bay, “I’m around.”

You nodded, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you walked back to the car, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of discomfort and nostalgia. Thor’s presence brought back memories you’d rather forget, but it also reminded you of how far you’d come.

You got into the car, placed the filter on the passenger seat, and drove off, the encounter replaying in your mind. Some things never change, but you have. And that was enough.

🚗

You drove home quickly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you pulled into the driveway. Finally safe at home, you were drenched in sweat from the broken air conditioning. “Shit. This damn air-con,” you muttered, frustrated. Why hadn’t your dad used the money you sent to buy a new car?

Determined to fix it yourself, you looked up a YouTube tutorial on how to change the air filter in a car. Despite the step-by-step guide, you were still confused, struggling to follow along.

You heard a familiar voice behind you as you fumbled with the instructions. “What 'cha doing?”

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. “Changing the air filter,” you replied, exasperated.

He heard the voice from the YouTube video. “Do you know how to do it?” Bucky asked.

“...No,” you admitted reluctantly.

“Let me help you. It’s really easy,” he said confidently.

“If you say so,” you sighed, stepping aside to let him work.

Bucky changed the air filter quickly and efficiently, his movements smooth and practiced.

"So, you went to Thor's shop?" Bucky asked while fixing it.

"How did you know?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. You also found out that shop belongs to Thor.

"From the filter box," Bucky said with a grin. "Nah… just kidding. He called me."

"Yeah, I went there," you admitted.

"Did he make you uncomfortable?" Bucky's tone grew more serious.

"The same as our first meeting," you said bluntly, not sugarcoating your words.

"Ouch," Bucky said, pretending to be hurt, clutching his chest dramatically.

"Well… it's done," he said, stepping back and wiping his hands.

You looked at the air filter, noting how easily Bucky had changed it. He was right—it was simple once you knew what to do. You turned on the car and felt the welcome rush of cold air. It was a relief after driving around in the heat.

"Thanks," you said, genuinely appreciative.

"That's what friends are for," Bucky replied with a teasing smile.

Giving him a fake smile, you shook your head, your expression firm. "We. Will. Never. Be. Friends."

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips. "We'll see about that," he said, walking away to help your father like usual.

You watched him go, shaking your head in disbelief. What made him think you would ever want to be friends after everything that had happened?

Author Note: I imagine this is the fake smile she gives Bucky whenever she talks to him. 😂

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