#i want to keep digging into it and i miss having a community focused around that aspect of a game

[lookbluesoup]

I know shippy stuff and canon-adjacent stuff is popular and I'm certainly not dissing those. I like them too, they're a lot of fun! And AUs are great, I have so many!

But man, I wish there was more... idk, emphasis and exploration of the FFXIV lore, and those moments that have to have happened but aren't shown on screen - talked about and written about and illustrated here on tumblr.

That's usually been my favorite part of fandoms, discussing the lore with other fans in-depth and sharing theories, and seeing how everyone's characters would handle those big or quiet moments from the story itself. Exploring how a game mechanic/boss fight would feel from a story perspective, and what it would mean to the characters.

It's not entirely absent from here, but even when I make my own meta posts, even if they get lots of notes, I tend to see very little discussion added compared to what I'm used to from other fandoms. And when new patches come out, there's not a lot of deep talk about the story itself circulating. Maybe I've just been lucky in my previous spaces!

But... I want to know how the WoL and Graha bonded during the Crystal Tower raids. Did they sit around the campfire at night and talk? Did they drink and sing and laugh and argue?

What was it like, recovering from Ultima Thule? How did it feel to set out on the road again, leaving the title of Scion behind? Did they give their friends a tour of Ishgard? Did they visit Edmont? What was it like in the trenches of Ghimlyt Dark, for these characters who have never seen war before, versus the ones who have? Did the WoL help stabilize Lakeland, and tend wounded after the sin eater attacks?

I want late night study sessions with the twins, bittersweet work in the hot sun rebuilding Ala Mhigo, learning to fight on dragonback, Hraesvelgr's brood visiting Ishgard on diplomatic forways. I want snarking with Emet Selch while you help people with "side quests" in Norvrandt. I want gentle moments with Ryne on the road because if anyone understands the suffocating feeling of immense responsibility Hydaelyn and Minfilia have dropped on that child, it's the WoL.

What was it like for the WoL to fight the pirates in Sastasha? To see the women taken captive there? To see the Drowned mutilated by Leviathan's tempering? How did they handle the narrow tunnels and rickety elevators in Copperbell, and the giants angry after centuries of unjust imprisonment? Did they step in Aurum Vale's goldbile and have a shoe burnt off? Did they bring a pet korpokkur home from the Arboretum? Do they carry scars?

Do they take the manacutter out for joyrides? Did Grani recognize the color of their soul, and choose them over the tempered twist of Emet Selchs, or did Emet charge his familiar with looking after them? Have they ever been robbed in Limsa Lominsa? Did they ever buy loinfruit?

Does that goobbue sproutling grow up? The coerl kitten become a battle steed? The wolf pup a guardian? Do the sylphs play games with the WoL when they visit the Shroud? Do they carry a polished shell to remind them of their Clutchfather? Do they stop by the guild to check on the Deftarm whenever they're in Dravania?

What was it like trekking the spindly mountains of Othard, riding a Yol for the first time, seeing the endless plains of green, and the dead white of the Burn?

Do they still have nightmares about Haurchefant, or are they good dreams remembering his smile? Did he teach them to make hot chocolate? Did they stay up all night when the Scions lost their souls, waiting by the bedsides with a candle and feeling helpless?

Do they visit Amaurot, even after Emet Selch is gone? Are they still trying to remember? Did they look up at the night sky in Elpis and feel an indescribable sense of loss?

Was there ever a moment in Endwalker where they almost became a Blasphemy themselves? Did they ever answer Venat's question? Do they know that the love their friends had for them, saved them?

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Beef

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Requested : "Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?" EDIT: I saw this same request being written by another writer and I want to say, don't send multiple writers the same exact request. I find this super disrespectful.

This one took some turns of its own while writing, I hope it's to your liking!!

When his group first came to the community you were excited. Finally you'd have a real huntsman around to share experiences with, you had missed it so bad.

Before the fall your family owned a shop, your father a butcher and your mother a taxidermist. You and your siblings learned every skill from hunting to skinning, prepping and using each part of the animal so none would go to waste. You hadn't hunted in so long, you weren't sure if you still could hunt succesfully. Even now you'd donate large, strong antlers and bones to the blacksmith in Hilltop to use in weaponmaking. You donated the furs you didn't fashion into items yourself to the seamstresses and prepped each type of meat for meals.

But somehow the new hunter didn't take the shared interests as something positive.

He brought you animals, yes. But never without throwing a judgy look around your workplace. Even when he came in with someone else who'd compliment your clean work he'd only scoff, dump his kills and head back out.

"Sheesh, what crawled up his ass?" The large moustached man laughed. You only shrugged as you lugged the deer behind your counter. "Hell if I know. Ain't digging it out tho. He seems to be doing okay with everyone except for me.." You returned the laugh while the man who's name slipped your mind helped you put the deer on your workbench, only to quickly drop the fake smile and leaning against your workbench.

You thanked him with a sigh and he gave you that look that told you to spill your thoughts.

"Fine. It sucks he's so weird. It'd be awesome to have a partner to do all of this with and to go hunt with." You busied yourself sharpening yuour knives, clearly still annoyed by the whole ordeal. "And..?" The long winded drawl made you roll your eyes at the man's persistance.

"And he's drop dead gorgeous, okay? There. I said it. I have a crush on the man. Happy no-- Ah fuck!" Your knife hit the floor with a clatter as you grabbed at your bleeding hand.

"Alright, up and out withya. To the doc we go." You were led to the infirmary and passed the source of your annoyance on the way.

Not that you were listening, but you still caught his voice in passing. "Damn folk 'ere don't know how ta do shit." You caught his glance in your direction and if you weren't busy keeping yourself from bleeding out you'd confront him.

It was a clear message that you weren't allowed to use the injured hand for your work and risk pulling the stitches, and honestly it just hurt too much to do anything with it. It sucked even more than having to leave your old home behind. There were people counting on your work so they'd have food.

It didn't stop you from going to work and doing as much as you could one-handed. You got there extra early to make up for the extra rime everything would take now, and by the time you'd normally open you found Deanna on your steps, greeting you with her usual smile. "I knew you'd be here stil working, but I brought someone to help until your hand is better. You shouldn't be overworking yourself."

As quick as she had entered she had left again as well, leaving you with your new work companion.

The hunter.

"Good morning." You gave him the kindest smile you could, but were only given a grunt in return as he tossed a bundle of tied up small game on your desk, rounded the corner and fished for a knife to start taking them apart.

Besides you explaining where to put all the different parts of the animal you two barely spoke, until the snap of bone pulled you away from your focused work of skinning yesterday's deer. "The hell?" You turned around to go see what he was up to.

"What are you breaking bones for?" His station was a mess, he pointed at the difficult point he was cuting along. "Easier ta reach without the bone in the way." Without even looking he continued. "Ya should know tha'. Damn city girl doin' mah work."

Again with his snarky comments. You shrugged it off and went back to your own station. Yiur bkood bloiled but you weren't gonna let him get to you, you had work to get done. "Try not to do that, we can still use the bones if you keep them whole."

You tried so hard to focus on your work, skinning the deer with only one functional hand was so difficult and even though you were having extremely conflicted feelings about it you still had to ask him for help.

"Can I borrow your hands for a minute? Can't do this on my own."

You held the large deer up and moved it as Daryl cut away the skin in the most choppy manner, creating a clear line where you stopped and he started. "Can you please work a bit mote delicate? That's gonna take me ages to clean up." You huffed from keeping the deer in place, but also annoyance. Why didn't he work like a hunter? He must know the code, right?

"Why're ya so on mah ass 'bout how I work? Gon' toss it out anyways. Just need the meat, tha's it." He got snappy at the end and you just stared at him, anger clear in your eyes. "Seriously?"

You let go of the deer and stepped away from the counter. "You're sent to MY shop. To help me because I happen to fuck up my hand for the first time ever since I got here years ago and all you can do is talk shit about me?" The knife that laid on the desk before now in your good hand and pointed at his chest. "God I can't believe I even fell for your hunting woodsman charms. You're just an asshole who doesn't give a shit about these animals or the hunter's code." With a clatter the knife hit the floor as you tossed it to the side with shaking hands.

"Get the fuck out of my shop and go find me someone who cares." With angry steps you turned around and headed out of the room, needing a break to gather yourself first if you wanted to get anything else done.

Now alone in the workstation, Daryl snatched up his catch from this morning and headed out.

~~

"You did what? Pookie you gotta listen to the girl." Carol sat down next to him and snatched the cigarette from his fingers. "You know you disrespected her life's work by now following her rules in her own shop, right?"

"I'on get why tha's even important anymore. We gotta eat, tha's all." Daryl's annoyed grumbles did nothing good it seemed as Carol continued to scold him like he was a child. "Did you for one second maybe think this work is all she has left to hold onto her old world self?"

"Cept this ain't the old world no more. She's waistin' time doin' all tha extra shit."

Carol was up and at the front door by now, putting out the cigarette in one of many ashtrays there. "Alright, up with you. You're apologizing with me right now."

The two took off to your shop but found no one there. Daryl's half finished rabbit still out in the open on the table while the deer was gone. "Ain't here. I'll head back tomorro--"

"No we're not. I know where she lives, come on." Carol practically pulled him along on the way to your place despite Daryl's protests.

You were working in your basement area when you heard a knock on the front door. "Come in!" Everyone who came to your place knew the door was unlocked and was free to come and find you, seeing you were either cooking, working on lounging when you kept the front door open.

"Hey, it's Carol! Heard about your hand, need some help around the house?" She needed an excuse to get an answer and find out where you were, so when you called back she knew to head downstairs.

Meanwhile Daryl just stared around to keep his mind busy. He found rabbit skins from prey he brought in wrapped around a pair of boots. He recognized the fur seeing it was a rare color. Further into your livingroom there was a deer pelt draped over the back of your couch. Also caught by him. The white spots over the back had one small flaw from where his bolt had struck right on a white dot. He remembered being proud of his aim for a minute that day.

"Daryl, come on." Carol's whisper-yell had him roll his eyes and as he passed your coatrack he noticed the hooks were all antler parts and the knives laying in the basket on the hallway table had bone handles.

So that's why you were so angry when he snapped the rabbit's leg and skinned the deer so carelessly. You did really use everything.

The two walked down the stairs to your workshop, Carol up front with Daryl following.

"Oh wow," Carol's exclaimation had you laugh. "Yeah, I get that a lot." You stood with your back turned, struggling to hang a piece of skin.

"Here, lemme help ya." Daryl's gruff voice was suddenly right behind you and you spooked, letting go of the pelt but Daryl caught it just in time, draping it over the wire. "Like tha?" His hands stayed up there and adjusted it to your liking, having stepped back to watch him and give Carol a questioning look. She just shrugged and gestured at the man who was again staring around the room. "What brings you here?"

Daryl looked at everything except you, he knew he'd lose all ability to speak if he did. Hell, he already had a difficulty getting his words out now seeing how wrong he was for not listening to you. "Came ta say sorry." He stared at the basket of furs labeled 'Donate'. "Shoulda known better than ta get angry. 'N I get why ya work thr way ya do now." Next to the basket sat a crate filled with thick, sturdy bones labeled 'blacksmith'.

You nodded and gave him an option. "Come back to the shop tomorrow. I'll have tou clean up that deer skin you almost ruined and you're following my teachings. I'll forgive you for wasting the rabbit."

Daryl chewed at his thumb, the other hand stuffed in his pocket and fidgeting with the fabric inside. "Yeah, alright." He nodded and looked over at Carol who had the brightest smile on her face. One that screamed victory.

"We'll get out of your hair, I'll bring by some lunch tomorrow at your shop." Carol waved on her way up, and just as Daryl was about to follow her you quickly spun around to grab something. "Oh, here." You held out a thin knife wrapped in leather, a small engraving of Hilltop's blacksmith on the handle. "I saw you took the rabbits, so if you haven't prepped them yet you can try this one. They're great for smaller animals."

He stumbled over his thanks as he accepted the knife and quickly headed out after Carol.

~~

You were back at work early the next morning, painkillers and a small breakfast in your system already and hoping to finish that damn deer. It still proved a challenge to get it from the cooler onto the workbench but you managed eventually, just before Daryl came in.

"Mornin'." Hid gruff voice sounded through the workplace as he rounded the corner and placed the knife from yesterday on the table. "Thanks fer lettin' me borrow it. Worked like a charm."

You picked up the knife and held it out to him again, only to recieve a questioning grunt in return. "It was a gift. To keep."

Daryl never got gifts. Everything he had was scavenged and well taken care of for longer use these days. It felt weird to keep it but he thanked you again and pocketed it.

Meanwhile you had grabbed the deer skin and laid it out where he'd be working. "Look here, I'll show you how to clean this up and you'll go fix the rest, okay? It'll take a while but it'll be worth it." Daryl stepped up to you and observed the way you took the knife to the uneven spots of skin and carefully smoothed it all out. The precision in your work was impressive to say the least. "How long've ya been doin' this?"

You dropped a cut off piece of meat into a plastic container and thought back to the old world. "I guess ever since my parents thought I was old enough to handle knives." You held the tool out to the hunter and watched him take it from you. "Your turn. I'll be hopefully finishing that deer so just ask whatever, whenever."

You were lucky a lot of the cutting could be done onehanded, and holding back pieces was okay enough to do with your wrist or hold something down with your elbow. But now that you had all the easy access meats off and seperated you ran into a problem.

"Fuck.." You needed help. The same kind of help that had you kick him out yesterday.

"Sup? Need hands?" He was at your side in a second, waiting for your instructions.

"I need to take off the ribs but I can't." You leaned aside to point around the carcass. "If you can press down here, and there." Daryl followed your instructions and put pressure on the spots you pointed out. "Then I can take this here apart." Your movements were followed and suddenly it was way too hot in your always cold workplace. Yesterday you'd be happy if he decided thr Kingdom was a better home for him but now that he apologized and proved to better himself after your misunderstanding you were back to being the lovesick puppy Abraham had made you out to be when he brought you home after the infirmary visit.

With how Daryl held the spot clear and open you had to get close to chop through the bone and separate it all in workable bits.

"Can I take one a'those later? Michonne asked ta cook fer her kids cuz she's out 'n Carol's off ta Kingdom--" "Throw the kids an old world barbeque! I'll come help. I'm sure you're skilled in roasting over an open fire with how much you traveled." The excitement was clear in your voice, and the sudden compliments and offers of gifts and assistance had him nervously fidgeting. But thinking about having a fun experience with the kids instead of just cooking and having dinner sounded way better than his original plan, so he agreed.

"Ya got supplies ta fix tha' in half a day?"

~~

The two of you cleaned up after finishing thr needed work and while you carried the prepped meats, Daryl had the bowl firepit on a kart together with the metal rack to hang over it. Yeah, he lived in a community now but he never guessed he'd be carrying around a whole barbeque setup like he was getting ready to throw a party in the old world. "Gotta drop by tha' house fer a sec, get Jude 'n RJ."

After he got the kids and you had everything set up Daryl got the fire started while you made a quick pantry run and dug through Daryl's kitchen for anything to add to the meals.

You brought whatever you found and set it on the side of the porch steps, keeping a path to the house cleared and sat yourself down in the front lawn as you watched uncle Daryl in action, letting the kids toss wood onto the fire and poke at it with a stick but making sure they kept their distance and wouldn't touch the hot metal.

It was heartwarming to see him laugh and have fun with them and watched him speak quetly to the kids with a finger pointed your way before the two came running towards you.

"Daryl says the fire's good for food! Can we put some on the thing?" Two pairs of big, begging eyes stared at you and saying no would be the worst so of course you allowed them, under surveillance and with an assisting hand. "Alright, pick something you wanna eat first and put it on a plate, Daryl will take it to the fire and I'l helf you put it on the rack, okay?"

A chime of "Okay!" baely left them before they were at the collection of prepared meats where you and Daryl joined them in picking.

While Daryl roasted the food over the fire you were tasked go keep the kids busy, but wirh hoe much they loved chatting about everything and anything it was an easy task.

The whole evening was fun and food and family and it reminded you of everything you missed in this new world.

Everything was good in this moment, especially when you heard a little exchange between uncle and niece.

"Uncle Daryl? Can we have more dinners with her? But also mom and aunt Carol next time." You watched Daryl look towards you for a moment before turning back to Judith. "'Course, she's teachin' me ta prepare food so we can do this with e'ryone if ya want. But!" He raised his hand and pointed at RJ, who came over to him too now. "Yer gonna be the ones askin' folk ta bring food too, so e'ryone has somethin' ta eat, 'kay?"

The two happily nodding kids proved that your time in the community just got a lot more fun.

Now, after the kids were long brought to bed you and Daryl stayed around the fire. Having taken the meat rack off and set asidr you were just relaxing and picking away at the leftovers.

"So," you started, watching the flames in front of you. "That community barbeque plan of yours, it sounded amazing especially how you brought it over to the kids. But, aren't you afraid it'll drain recources too quick?"

Daryl shrugged it off. "Maybe. But those kids'll make folks keep stuff aside fer it." The idea of those two running around the place collecting people brought a smile to his face. "'Sides, I ain't wastin' meat no more with yer lessons tha' I hope ya will keep givin' me."

Oh. He wanted to stay? At the shop? With you? You were pleasantly shocked with that news. "What? Ofcourse I'll teach you. But only of you promise to take me out hunting when my hand's okay again."

He let out a breathy laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I'd love ta have ya around."

You stretched and laid down in the grass, looking up at the night sky.

"S'gonna be fun."

[kaunis-sielu]

Dangerous Places: 9

His hands are on the couch on either side of your legs but he’s not touching you.

“You’re bleeding!” You snatch up his hand to examine it before you know what you’ve done.

“I’m alright Bunny.”

“Glass? Did you punch through some glass?”

“Just a little.”

“We need to clean it.” You tell him and he stands pulling you up with him. You go to let go of his hand but he keeps holding yours, he gives you a little half smile.

“You should hold on. Wouldn’t wanna get lost on my way to first aid.” You roll your eyes at him but drag him along behind you anyways. “You’re moving better, are your feet feeling better?”

“Yea,” you tell him, “is there any glass in your cut?”

“Nah Bunny.”

“Wash it out please.” You tell him before pulling the first aid kit out from under the sink. When he’d been here Hulk had restocked it so you know that everything should be good to go. Steve turns on the water as you get out the gauze wrap and a pair of gloves.

You tend to his cut knuckles gently, making sure you wrap them tight enough to stop the bleeding but not so tight that it’ll cut off circulation.

“You’re good at this Bunny.”

“He got into a lot of fights on his way to the top. I was expected to care for him in every way he demanded.” You say softly focusing on the job you’re doing.

“I can do this.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t mind, it’s kind of nice feeling useful.”

“What have you been doing all day?”

“Reading. Sleeping. Cooking a little. When the girls are here we talk.” You’ve talked about him more than you’d like to admit. He’s an extremely powerful mob boss but the girls really didn’t have much bad to say about him. His legit businesses give back to the community as much as they can, he takes care of his employees and is known for his weirdly strong sense of justice.

“If I could get you some things to do what would you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” You admit, you really don’t know what you’d want to do. “I miss music.”

“Music?”

“Yea, I know that I can’t have my phone but I like music more than tv for background noise. I hate commercials though.”

“So radio is out,” he says, “I’ll come up with something.”

“Oh, thank you.” You tell him securing the gauze around his hand. “Would you like to eat?”

“You don’t have to serve me Bunny.”

“I’m going to eat so if you want to I can make two plates.” You suggest and he hums softly,

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I’m sure.” He studies your face for a moment then gives you a little nod. You move away from him and open the fridge then dig out the leftover lasagna. As you prep for dinner he leans against the couch and texts someone on his phone. You test your glucose then take some insulin while the lasagna reheats.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Get your drink?”

“Okay.” He takes out a beer from the fridge, “What do you want?”

“I just do water.”

“I’ll get it.” He says as you drop your needles in the hard plastic bottle that you’ve been using as a sharps container.

You eat in silence, it’s not exactly uncomfortable but it’s also not comfortable either.

“You made this?”

“Yes.”

“It’s delicious.”

“Thank you.”

“You like cooking right?”

“I do.”

“You need anything for something you wanna make tell the girls, they’ll get you whatever you need. They’ve been kind right?”

“Absolutely.” You’re a little surprised by this question, why wouldn’t the girls be nice to you?

“I know Carol can be a bit harsh sometimes.”

“She’s just honest, which is kind of nice.” You tell him and Steve looks surprised. “What?”

“You seem to read people well. Quickly too.”

“You kind of have to in this life don’t you?”

“I suppose. What have you figured out about me?” He asks, his voice is even and calm but you won’t be telling him anything. If you offend him he could get angry and you’ve seen what his fist can do to glass, you don’t need to see what it could do to you.

“I don’t know.” You say softly after a bite of lasagna. This seems to be the safest thing to say and he studies you.

“You’re afraid you’re going to anger me. You won’t.” It seems he’s good at reading people too, “I know you said actions, and my actions today probably show you that I have a temper, which I do, but the anger wasn’t directed toward you. Not unless you betray me and I don’t think that’s going to happen. Do you?”

“No.” In all honesty that depends on what his definition of betrayal is. The second he lets you go you’re fucking gone, which Brock absolutely would have seen as betrayal, as for Steve, you don’t know.

“Alright then we won’t have any problems.” He goes back to eating like it’s nothing but you have to force yourself to eat, he hasn’t given you reason to really trust him yet. The girls, you’re getting more comfortable with them but you’ve also got your guard up. You’ve been fooled before, you won’t let that happen again. When you’re done eating Steve picks up your plate and brings it to the sink to wash and put into the dishwasher.

This starts a pattern, he shows up everyday for dinner. He never does any work when he’s with you and it’s so easy to forget what he is. He’s charming and kind and brings you a record player with three boxes worth of vinyls.

It’s not until one night when you’re sleeping and he comes in, gently waking you, with a glass in his hand that you realize his attention to detail.

“What’re you doing?” You murmur confused, it’s the middle of the night and he’s in pajama pants and a zip up sweatshirt.

“You’re double arrow down and at 85, you need some sugar.” He tells you handing you the glass, “it’s apple juice.”

“Oh.” You take a sip and stare at him in the darkness. “How did you know?”

“Bruce hooked me up to your system, it alerts me if you’re too low or too high.” You won’t tell him but you’re impressed.

“What time is it?”

“2:30.” He came all the way over here at 2:30 in the morning to give you juice? “Drink up Bunny.” He coaxes so you take another sip. Sometimes drinking the juice too fast makes you feel sick but you don’t want to crash either.

Once you finish the juice Steve takes the glass back.

“Thank you.” You say softly when he’s at the door. He nods and closes the door softly behind him.

When you told him actions would prove to you that he wasn’t like Brock. This is exactly what you meant when you said that, you don’t know how far he lived from here but the fact that he’s got an alarm set up to make sure you stay healthy. You get up and make your way out into the main part of the house and are surprised to see Steve in the living room.

“Everything okay?”

“Yea, I’m just going to test with my test strips. Sometimes the sensor is a little slow.”

“Okay.” He says standing and following you into the kitchen. You test and see that you’re going down still, but it takes about fifteen minutes to see any change.

“Do you need more sugar?” He asks as you take everything apart.

“Not yet. It won’t show for at least fifteen minutes.”

“Wanna sit up with me?” He offers,

“Um. Okay.” So you join him in the living room, “could, could you get me something to sew?” When he looks up at you in surprise.

“Sorry Bunny. What was that?”

“I like to cross stitch, could you get me a project to do?”

“Do you want to look online?” He’s going to trust you to use the internet?

“You’d let me?”

“Yea.”

“Thank you.” You pause, you have another question for him but you don’t want to annoy him.

“What else Bunny?”

“Hmm?”

“I can see there’s another question in there. What is it?”

“How long will I have to stay here?”

“A bit longer.” You feel defeated, it might not be so bad if you had a time frame rather than just question marks. “I’m sorry. We’ve got to be careful about this. If they know I’m coming it’ll be a war rather than the execution I want.” He says it so casually, “I’ll try and have a better answer for you soon okay?”

“Okay.” You agree before standing.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t have my sensor to check my sugar.”

“I can.” He picks up his phone from the arm of the chair and looks at your number. “Oh, good 90 and steady.” You stand and make your way back toward the bedroom.

“Good night.”

“Night Bunny. You need anything and I’ll be here. Don’t wanna leave you alone.”

“Oh, okay.” You tell him before closing the bedroom door and going back to bed.

Tag list:

@andahugaroundtheneck @connie326 @also-fangirlinsweden @lumar014 @loving-life-my-way @pagina16ps @emdying @dumblani @valsworldofcreativity @blackwidownat2814 @vicmc624 @abschaffer2 @patzammit @inkedaztec @sophham

[attackurheart88]

Hi! Could you maybe do kurapika sfw and nsfw relationship headcanons?

Fluff & Smut

Mature content be aware

_______________________________________________

Sfw

• Kurapika loves to cuddle. When you wrap your arms around him and place your legs over his, he’ll grumble and tell you to let go so he can go to work. When in reality, he loves the attention. Kurapika hates leaving the warmth and comfort of the bed so early only to return days later. He treasures every second he spends with you and often wakes up early just to stare at your pretty/handsome face before leaving. He accuses you of coddling him when it is he who digs himself in your embrace.

• He likes receiving positive texts from you. Kurapika works for a long time and rarely answers his phone. So when he’s out texting is your only form of communication. Although he might not reply, Kuapika loves checking his phone to see the sweet messages you leave.

“Hope you have a great day.”

“Be safe.”

“You can do it👍”

“Don't forget to eat!”

“I miss you😔”

“I love you ♥️”

• When you take care of him. Kurapika feels grateful when you make him a cup of coffee on long nights. Or place a blanket on his shoulders when he falls asleep. He often neglects his health when it comes to finding the Phantom Troupe which is why it's up to you to take care of him. Kurapika likes to return the favor when he can. He makes breakfast before he takes off and leaves gifts for you every now and then.

• Kurapika likes to receive kisses. It always makes him smile when you surprise him with a kiss on the cheek or forehead.

• Hand holding. Kurapika is not big on pda but he likes to hold your hand. Having your warm hands in his soothes him and makes it easier to keep track of you. The last thing he wants is for you to stray or get taken due to his line of work.

Nswf

• Loud af. Top or bottom Kurapika can't keep his mouth shut. He’s groaning out praises and deep pants with every thrust. His volume is why you can't ever have sex in public. You’d get caught too quickly. If he was the bottom he'd be even more sensitive. Whimpers and tears would be released during each session.

• Cums easily. Kurapika is always pent-up due to his job and finds little time to relieve himself. It takes everything for him not to cum as soon as he enters you. If it gets especially bad he’ll pause for a minute to collect himself before continuing. Giving him a blowjob is the best way to gain his attention. As soon as your hand wraps around his pretty little cock he’s all yours. Work can come later.

• Kurapika keeps himself tidy. Down there is always shaved and orderly for his pleasure and yours

• He likes vibrators. When he knows he’ll be coming home on time Kurapika likes to tie you up and leave you being pleasured until he returns. In the middle of a fight, he’ll increase the speed just to mess with you. He sees it as motivation to finish his job quickly to see the beautiful mess you are.

• I see kurapika as a soft dom/switch. In most cases, he is very loving and respectful with his touches. He focuses on your pleasure rather than his own and is quick to ask how you feel when trying anything new. It's only when he is stressed or angry that Kurapika gets rough and cruel.

• Kurapika is a pervert, before he leaves for long periods of time he always steals your underwear and keeps a photo of you for “emergencies”. He’ll prefer to use one you’ve already worn as your scent just turns him in even more. In any case, when he has free time or on a phone call with you he touches himself to the sound of your voice, underwear in hand. He can't help it. Although it may not seem like it it's hard to be away from you for so long.

[cellarspider]

Since I’ve been thinking about it all morning: here. A partial introduction to my favorite villain.

In the days of yore, when I was a teenager and video game hype was almost exclusively magazine-based, I saw a kid reading a copy of Game Informer.

“Hey,” said I, “could I see that for a second?”

The kid, not knowing what they were about to unleash, handed me the magazine.

I had seen this on the cover:

I had no idea what this was, but I knew that I wanted whatever it was selling.

I found out that this was an advertisement for City of Villains, an expansion to the previously-released MMO City of Heroes. I’d never played WoW with its Alliance and Horde split, so the idea was new to me. WoW also failed to present me with anything like the vibes of the newly-introduced lead villain, Lord Recluse.

Yes, they liked this art so much they did it twice, and I’m glad they did. More below the fold on why he was so appealing for a young queer kid, for those who are intrigued.

I’ll keep this focused on a single topic for now: The intensely queer vibes that Recluse acquired over the course of the game’s plot. Keep in mind that this game came out in 2004, so the actual amount of openly queer content was very minimal. However, CoH/CoV developed a reputation as an extremely queer-friendly space, with a community Pride event becoming a semi-official yearly celebration, complete with the devs showing up as major NPCs, custom assets, and spawning in unique raids that tanked everybody’s framerate. Equivalents of this have carried over past the game's tragic shutdown in 2012, with community-run servers still staging their own Pride events.

If the art above doesn’t make it clear, Recluse had a much-beloathèd archnemesis, Statesman. If the art above doesn’t make it abundantly clear, this was always an extremely fraught relationship, with a complicated backstory that became more and more tragic the deeper you got into the game lore, eventually bordering on cosmic horror. But one thing was for certain, this was Hark A Vagrant levels of obsession over a nemesis.

The game at first seemed to backstep on that: oh, it turned out, Recluse had once been villainous life partners with a woman who went by the villain name Red Widow. She died decades ago in the collateral damage of one of Recluse’s nigh apocalyptic confrontations with Statesman, and her death left him with nothing but his obsession. So sad.

And then when Statesman died in the course of the game’s plot, Recluse spiraled into depression and nihilism that was only halted when someone managed to dig Red Widow’s soul out of storage and resurrected her.

It was always deniably presented, but the implication was very much that the two were functionally equivalent emotional anchors to his psyche, and losing both of them was something he couldn’t survive.

Also, there was that one time that the game’s Valentine’s Day event was advertised with a heart split down the middle, half Statesman’s iconography and half Recluse’s, topped with a banner that read “AMOR OMNIA VINCIT”, meaning “LOVE CONQUERS ALL”.

And that’s without getting into the first tie-in book. A prequel starting at the end of the 1920s, it was a delightfully and deliberately pulpy book, which… centered around a complicated man slowly dying of lingering health problems after his exposure to mustard gas in WWI, and his very good friend, estranged from his family for unknown reasons, who’d devoted the last ten years to caring for the protagonist, and helping him seek a cure. This has carried on year after year, even though the man’s illness has made him unresponsive to the emotional needs of others, something they both know is going to culminate one day in the two parting ways.

…And then they get superpowers, and their relationship does not get any healthier from there. But what it does gain is a surprising trans metaphor as our now-antagonist slowly metamorphoses into the spidery villain I know and love.

I completely missed this back in the day. I have no idea if it was intentional. But there’s a scene where this man looks in the mirror and sees the first signs of his oncoming physical transformation, and he likes what he sees. He has no idea where he’s going, but he’s excited for it.

…And he’s started killing people who refer to him by his former name, in the most literal case of “dead naming” I’ve ever seen.

Throughout the rest of the series, Recluse is unapologetically who he is, putting him in that category of queercoded villain that doubles as a power fantasy. He’s grown physically monstrous and loves it. He has respect from everyone around him, either legitimately for his capabilities or out of fear of what he can do to those who don’t give him his due. A new demigod who is only matched by the man he’s never stopped obsessing over. He wins just as often as he loses, and often salvages something from his defeats in ways that nobody expected.

He is terrible. And he is wonderful.

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2022: October 26th

Day 26: Group Sex // Seduction // Costumes

Dave York + Frankie Morales + Will Miller + Benny Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Oral sex (male and female receiving), group sex, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, slight degradation, collaring, dom/sub tones 

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Three sets of eyes, four - if Dave’s were counted, were focused on you. Will keeps glancing away, shifting uncomfortably, but flickering back over to you as if it was an accident he couldn’t keep his eyes off of. The morbidly curious spectator that slows down the car to rubberneck and observe. 

Except they aren’t watching EMS or fire personnel take care of a crash scene. No, they are watching spit drip down your chin, your throat bulging and gasps as the thick cock that makes tears spring up in your eyes and slides down your cheeks pulls back long enough for you to draw in a breath before it pushes back down your throat. 

Frankie coughs, rubbing his hand over his face and twisting in his seat, his glance finding Benny to see what the younger Miller brother was doing. To see if anyone else was as shocked as he was. Benny was leaning forward, hands clasped together with his blue eyes focused on the scene in front of him. 

His eyes turn back to where the woman on her knees very enthusiastically bobbed her head up and down, taking Dave deeper and deeper with every pass, her nude body on display and he swallows when he sees a flash of something between her cheeks. A toy? A plug?

Benny’s the first to say something. “Hell of a weekend away, York.” His chuckle is awkward, voice rather rough from the unspoken questions that every man has. 

Dave smirks, looking back down at you and strokes your hallowed cheek, making you moan quietly and lean into his touch. “Figured you boys might want a little more than fishing and nature on the menu.” He tells them, looking up from your mouth to find each one of them staring at him. 

“I brought you a toy for the weekend.” He goes on tugging on the collar you are wearing around your neck and you obey immediately, pulling off his cock with a gasp, hazily looking up at him from lust filled eyes. “Good girl.” He winks at you and motions for you to suck his cock again, chuckling when you eagerly take him back into your mouth. “My little slut is going to take care of your every need. Every little hole is yours to fill, to fuck.”

You moan in agreement, and Will shuffles lower in his seat, obviously trying to see if this is some sort of power play or trick. Instead of smirking, Dave catches his eye, beckoning him over. “Touch her, Ironhead.” He invites. “She’s wanting to be filled.” 

Will’s gaze turns calculating, eyes narrowing as he watches your head bob, fingers digging into the arm of his chair from his slumped position before he makes up his mind. Your eyes cut over to watch as he pushes himself up out of the chair with a small grunt, making Dave chuckle, his hand cupping your jaw again. 

“Good choice, Miller” He groans when you swallow around him. “It’s worth it.” 

****

His decision leads to a chain reaction. You miss the silent communication between the other brother and Fankie. The subtle way that they agree with the tiniest of nods before Benny starts to kick off his shoes and Frankie sweeps the Standard Oil hat off his head and tosses it on the table beside him. 

You know their names, you’ve been shown pictures of the men that you were going to entertain this weekend, although they don’t know who you are. Dave hadn’t introduced you, preferring to leave you as his ‘pet’ for now. Adding to the thrill of this. 

Will is the first one to touch you. Hand skimming up your bare back and to the collar around your neck, hooking his fingers under the stiff yet malleable leather to pull you back slightly. Your lips stretch along the base of Dave’s cock, an inch slipping from your throat and Will grunts slightly as you aren’t providing resistance, instead you are letting him move you. 

“Oh she’s good.” He rasps out, pushing you forward until the length is buried in your throat again. There’s slightly admiration in his voice, the feeling of his hand sliding down your back and gripping your ass has you moaning quietly at the praise and touch. 

Dave smirks, looking towards Benny and Frankie as they strip down. Their cocks are half hard, swelling as they throw their clothes off in their haste. “Hurry up before we decide to keep her for ourselves.” He jokes. 

“Fuck no.” Benny grunts, a pout automatically on his face at the idea of not getting to join in on the fun. 

Frankie chuckles and shakes his head as he slowly follows the younger brother over to where all four men are now crowding around you. “He said we have all weekend.” He reminds him with a playful nudge, groaning as he wraps his own hand around his cock. 

“Yeah but this is the beginning of the fun.” Benny smirks as he kneels down and cups your breast. “Fuck, these are nice.” He grunts in approval as he pinches your nipple and makes you whine while you keep sucking Dave’s cock. 

Dave taps your chin and you dutifully move back, looking up at him expectantly. “Move to the bedroom.” Dave orders, obviously wanting to move to a more spacious location for this to happen. 

****

They have you spread out. Limbs splayed wide and each man seems to overtake every one of your senses. Will and Dave had stripped when they had moved you to the bedroom, Benny taking the initiative and hoisting you up to cart you off like a prize. 

Head hanging over the edge of the bed, you feel the press of Will’s insistent cock press deep. Deeper than Dave’s as he grunts, the soft press of his balls against your nose. 

All you can do is take it, moan through it while Frankie’s tongue is buried in your folds. Greedy and hungry for the smallest sounds he pulls out of you, feasting on you as if he were starving. His tongue is artfully wicked, making Benny huff about how no one would be able to satisfy you with oral now that you’ve had Cat’s tongue. 

Firm, wide hand hold your thighs, keeping them apart for his head while he slurps and sucks on your cunt. Making it hard to keep a steady rhythm for the two cocks in your hand. Unable to see them, Will blocks your view but you can hear the curses from Benny, feel the hands groping and slapping at your tits while you absorb the attention all four men give you. 

The air in the room is filled with them. Sweat, sex, musk all permeanting every inch of the space, their unique scents combining into one heady fragrance that covers the smell of your dripping cunt, of your need to be wrecked by them. 

Every second is filled with them. A curling flick of Frankie’s tongue combined with the slide of skin over steel and muted groans, the push of rigid veins along your palette. Every time they push into your hands or mouth, flicks your clit, your cunt clenches. Bottoms out on itself in anticipation. 

Will holds your head, watching his cock disappear into your mouth and bulge out the soft skin of your stretched throat. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon.” He grunts, looking over at Dave. “Need to- fuck where do you want it?” He’s asking Dave instead of you. 

Lips curling up, Dave hums. “Fill up that pretty little throat. I’m sure that you’ll fill up every hole by the time we are done.” 

Nodding, Will bites his lip, looking back down at you and his eyes slip closed. Hips losing their steady rhythm and starting to stutter. Feeling the way his body tightens, his cock hardens even more as he presses in, right before he lets out a loud moan. 

Salty ropes of cum push down your throat, making you gulp in an effort to keep up. Lifting up onto the balls of his toes while you drink him down, your grip on Benny and Dave’s cocks loose while you concentrate on not drowning in Will’s seed. 

Gasping for air and keening when he pulls his wet, spent cock from your mouth. The first sounds of your pleasure fully audible while Frankie continues to lick into your folds. Grinding your hips down and Dave tuts, reaching down and pinching your nipple harshly. “Don’t be greedy, you little slut.” He huffs at you, mocking your desperation for Frankie’s tongue and the way you moan when he tweaks your nipple. “Let the boys fuck those tight little holes.” 

Your lashes flutter and Dave’s filthy words push you over the edge, hips lifting and your body bucking as you cry out. Pouring your release into Frankie’s groaning mouth and Benny hisses. “Fuck, I’m fucking her ass.” He calls dibs on your hole and Dave snorts in amusement. He knows that by the time you’ve left the cabin this weekend, he will have taken every hole you have. 

****

Your eyes are on Dave, heavy lidded as he slowly strokes his cock. Watching instead of touching you and the urge to whine is overwhelming. The men he has worked with are very different but each one of them has an impressive cock. Two of them are stretching you out and impaling you while your body sings in pain and pleasure. 

It’s always the quiet ones that have the thickest dicks. The ones that don’t brag about how fucking big they are. Although it was obvious from the bulge in his pants that he wasn’t lacking, the fucking wrist sized cock that is currently buried in your cunt makes you gasp and whimper, rocking foward while the younger Miller brother pushes deep inside you. 

Benny’s long, average thickness but his cock is more than a full inch longer than Dave’s and your brow pinches slightly as he rocks into you slowly, letting you get used to him inside your tightly gripped hole. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I never - shit, no one ever lets me fuck their ass.” Benny moans, obviously in heaven and his hands cup your tits while he works his way to his hips grinding against your ass and every inch buried to the hilt. “Shit baby, you are beautiful.” 

“She loves it.” Dave smirks at your slack jawed expression, reaching out to cup your chin while Frankie’s fingers dig into your hips. “Want another cock in you?” He coos, grunting in approval when you nod dumbly like the cock drunk little whore you are. “Hopefully Frankie ate that pretty little pussy out enough to take his fat cock. You love it, don’t you my little slut?” You whimper and nod, clenching down around the cocks inside you.

Now it’s Will’s turn to watch, spent but quickly starting to get turned on again as he watches Dave stand, move over to where the three of you are propped up and feed his cock back into your mouth. You take it easily, just like you had swallowed him down and Will gulps, his cock twitching in interest and it might be a faster recovery time than he expected. 

You look pornographic. It could easily be any porn that they were jerking off to during deployments. One of millions of videos from shared hard drives that were used to combat loneliness and horniness. But instead of a computer screen, he can smell the sex, feel the tension in the air and practially taste skin and sweat. 

He wonders where Dave found you. Were you a worker he paid for the weekend? He didn’t think so. You were too familiar with him. Although that might not say much. The collar around your neck wasn’t new, it was obviously a usual weight around your neck. Your eyes are focused upon him, despite the two other men that are slowly starting to move in and out of your body. 

You whine, moan, as they find their rhythm. Alternating thrusts in perfect symphony. Never leaving you empty before the thick press of being filled races up your spine. The way they work together is almost instinctual, muscle memory. The devastating punch of their thrusts makes you mewl, swallowing around Dave’s cock as you are wrecked. 

The grunts and groans of the men are filthy, making you clench, filling the room with steady rising sounds. Panted curses and hissed blasphemes are all they can manage through the thrusts, each sound making you wind up tighter. Your orgasm titters on the edge while each man uses you, fucks into you like the toy you were promised to be and you’re enjoying it. 

Dave’s hand taps your cheek sharply, making your eyes spring open from where they had drifted closed. “Eyes on me.” He orders harshly, smirking at the cock drunk look in your eyes. “Too much, pet? You said you wanted this. That you could handle it.” Your muffled moan of agreement is filled with the slick sound of his cock filling your throat. “You can’t take more than one cock, is that what I’m hearing?” You shake your head as much as you can and start eagerly pressing him deeper, trying to make sure you give him exactly what he wants. 

Frankie’s hands caress your hips, a contrast to the harsh grip Benny has on your tits. Soft kisses brushing over your skin from the man who is deep in your cunt while Benny’s teeth have an edge to you, scraping over your skin. Making you gasp around Dave’s cock and he grunts, looking down at you with a dark grin. “You’re just getting started, aren’t you?” He coos, chuckling at the whine that escapes your lips. “Fill her up boys. We have a long weekend of fucking her full.” 

****

“Are we ever going to learn who she is?” Benny asks as the last bag is packed away in the truck of the SUV that Dave had brought up to the cabin. “And what about-”

Frankie shuffles and slaps Benny on the arm, a sharp look stopping the younger Miller brother from asking the question all three men had secretly been asking themselves even while they were indulging in the pure wicked decadence of the weekend. They were wrung out, drained dry and it was amazing that you were showering, or walking without any help. 

“What does your wife think about this?” Will asks, voicing it out loud and making Frankie give a soft sigh. Ironhead’s gaze is direct, making Dave huff in quiet admiration for asking the hard question. 

“My wife lets me do what I want.” He murmurs. 

“Yeah - but you just got married.” Benny states, hating again that none of them had been able to make the wedding. None of the had actually met the new Mrs. David York or even seen a picture of her. Dave hated social media and had been oddly silent on the subject of his new bride. 

“And?” Dave cocks a brow at Benny and smirks when he sees the disappointment flash across the team's faces. It was going to be interesting….

Your exit from the cabin with your bag captures their attention. Shocking them because you are dressed for the first time in days, looking much different from the sex toy they had used. Dave hums and walks over to the steps, taking the bag from your shoulder as you start to descend, his demeanor very different from the dominant - sometimes degrading man he had been over the last few days. 

His hand is on your back, guiding you over the men as all three tilt their heads and watch the interaction, trying to figure out this new dynamic of your relationship. This was a woman he had brought to them to be used - with your consent - but they had fucked every single hole on your body and used you in every way imaginable and he is now treating you like a precious jewel. 

“Sweetheart.” Dave smirks again, leaning in and giving you a soft kiss on lips that had every cock here between them. Loads of cum painted over them. “Introduce yourself to the boys.” He instructs you gently, looking back at them as he waits for their reactions. 

You smile at them as you tell them your name. “I’ve been so excited to meet all of you.” You tell them. “I’m Dave’s wife.” 

[melon-wing]

Your true Name [Grian/Ren]

Warning: This is a discontinued and mostly unedited story.  If you still wanna read - just for fun - go ahead, but be aware that there most likely won’t be more. I’m just dumping all the WIP I’ll never finish for those interested. [Click here for my non-abandoned stories] ~*~

Grian wiped the sweat from his forehead, sliding out from below the makeshift time machine. He had linked up a few circuits below and luckily just in time for his iron reserve to be spent. He was just glad Ren and Impulse were way below the ground, not one of them noticing Grian install all those foreign technologies he knew from a time way before Hermitcraft, far more familiar to him than redstone and far more compact as well. It was easy to hide those cables below the machine behind some metal panel.

He could hear Ren and Impulse‘s voices bickering, the sound slightly distorted coming from his communicator that was sitting on their little makeshift table. They had chosen to keep the transmission open, so they could keep each other updated and in case something happened. This wasn‘t the world they were all used to after all. They wouldn‘t want one of them getting lost. Well not that Grian would easily get lost, just tinkering around above ground… And Impulse was too focused to get lost… So yeah, they kept the open line so Ren wouldn‘t get lost.

“How are you guys doing?”, Grian asked, walking up to the communicator and taking a little clay cup to drink some water. The sun was high in the sky, no cloud in sight and working the whole time was getting exhausting. He wished he was in the cold caves below ground as well, but that was impossible.

“We found another vein. Or whatever. Not sure if you can call it a vein with only two diamonds. We only need one more, then we‘ll head up. God I miss my enchanted pickaxe”, Ren‘s voice replied to him and from the strain in his voice Grian could tell that the constant digging was getting exhausting to them as well.

“Get up and take a break. It‘ll get dark soon. We don‘t have to return today. I‘d rather have you up here when it gets dark. I wouldn‘t want to be all alone up here.”

“No”, Impulse said sternly and Grian could just imagine his determined face. “I know what you are trying to do, Gri. You have been alone more than one night since we arrived. We don‘t need a break now. We can rest once we have the last diamond. You just focus on the rest of the time machine.”

Grian sighed. Impulse was always able to look right through him. “Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you don‘t overwork yourselves. There‘s some nasty things in the caves just waiting for an opportunity to jump you guys.”

“Awww” Ren‘s high pitched voice spoke up again „Does little Gri care for us?“

Grian snorted in amusement.

“Of course I do. Wouldn‘t want to be single again after dating your sorry ass for over a year, Ren. I am too used to you by now.” There was a delighted giggle on the other side of the line that just got higher in pitch when Grian added on: “I love you.”

Impulse gave an annoyed groan, muttering something about inappropriate times for flirting, that Grian didn‘t completely catch.

“And I love you as well, Impulse. So try and get back soon.”

Grian walked away from the communicator again, turning to the time machine. If those two stayed below ground, he could  work a bit on the interior of the machine so he‘d maybe be done by the time they returned. 

He kept setting up stuff, when a loud scream snapped him out of his thoughts. He immediately stormed out, racing to the communicator and grabbing it in panic. 

“What happened?”

“It‘s alright, Grian.” Impulse‘s voice sounded strained and breathless, which was not really comforting at all.

“Impulse? What happened?”

There were some groans and shuffling, before Impulse replied again. „Ren fell down. I caught him. Gotta pull him up. Bad time for talking. Not sure if I can… Fuck no, Ren, don‘t you dare let go.“

“You‘ll fall with me if I don‘t!”

Grian could feel his heart rate increase at hearing the desperate voice of his boyfriend. He felt his eyes getting wet. He felt so helpless. He looked up at the sky sending off a silent prayer to whoever was listening to let them be alright. He would give anything for Impulse to be able to save Ren. He couldn‘t lose him. He just couldn‘t.

There were more grunts and shuffling and stones moving and then a shout. A triumphant shout. Grian‘s hands were shaking, his eyes drawn back to the communicator as he waited breathlessly for any sign that they had made it.

“Ren…?”

“I‘m alright, Gri. He pulled me up. Don‘t know where the madlad got this strength from. But good news. I saw another diamond at the side of the wall I was hanging from. We‘ll be coming up soon.”

Grian smiled softly, letting himself fall onto the chair next to their table, putting his communicator against his forehead. 

“Be careful please.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too. Don‘t disappear on me”, Grian replied and then put the communicator on the table again. He leant back a bit, turning his head to the sky and taking a deep breath. They needed to get away. This old world was dangerous. Who knew what would happen if they stayed for much longer.

Grian took a few calming breaths. His communicator gave a beep, but he didn‘t look at it immediately. Instead he was looking at the sky in confusion. It was still a few hours until nightfall, but the sky turned dark at a faster pace than it normally would. Grian looked for the sun in irritation, but it was nowhere to be found.

“Guys? I think something is wrong up here”, he slowly said, taking the communicator into his hand, only now looking at the message that had popped up and then he froze.

Herobrine joined the Game.

“Grian? What is happening? Did you see the message?”

Grian slowly looked up from his communicator. He felt like someone was watching him. Eyes staring right through him. And then his eyes landed on the figure. Standing completely still on the other side of the river next to their base. Those white emotionless eyes just staring at him. Staring, never once blinking. 

Grian felt like he was frozen in place, like something was holding him right there. His body didn‘t obey him anymore. The air seemed to be charged with electric energy. There were shouts coming from the communicator, asking him what was going on, but he couldn‘t speak, couldn‘t even open his mouth.

It was as if someone had stopped his body from working. Something was really wrong. This wasn‘t just the sight of Herobrine shocking him. And that‘s when he realised what that feeling was and he almost wanted to laugh at his own stupidity. Magic. He was being put under a spell and quite a strong one at that. That left only one question now. Would it be a good idea to resist? Maybe if he didn‘t move...

Herobrine made a step forward and something snapped in Grian, breaking his hesitance, stopping the trance like state. The magic was still all around him and he could feel its presence clearer now, but he pushed it back, his own magic flaring up inside of him. It had been a while since he used his watcher magic, but it was like it reacted on its own to push back the foreign magic.

Grian took a deep breath of relief as he felt control return to him and he took a step towards his communicator, his eyes never once leaving Herobrine. The moment he moved the blank face turned into a wide grin and Herobrine disappeared. There was no beep from the communicator. He wasn‘t gone. It wasn‘t over.

Grian rushed to the table, picking up the communicator, Ren and Impulse still shouting for him.

“Ren! Impulse! You need to hurry! We need to escape! He‘s here, Herobrine is…”

Suddenly the hair at the back of his neck seemed to stand up as the energy behind him shifted. He knew without turning around what that meant. A hand was put on his and it felt like an electric current ran through him, his body once again frozen. There was a chuckle behind him. The hand moved to his communicator, taking it out of his limb fingers. He tried to resist, tried to call up on his magic again, but it seemed to be buried deep down suddenly.

“You have magic, boy. Tell me. What does a watcher do all the way out of their domain? Haven‘t your elders told you that it‘s dangerous to stray too far off the path into the dark forest.”

Sweat ran down Grian‘s forehead. He was fighting. There was no way he‘d give up now. He needed to keep fighting.

The communicator fell to the ground and a crunching sound told him that Herobrine had stepped on it.

“I‘ve always hoped an opportunity like this would arise. I‘ve waited. I‘ve searched. I knew one day a watcher would make a mistake. Looks like you did just that.”

Grian tensed every muscle in his body and then his magic flared up again, pushing everything away from himself. The table burst into tiny pieces, the chair was sent flying high into the air. He hurriedly scattered away, looking back at Herobrine who had just stumbled a few steps back and was now looking at him with a mix of annoyance and excitement.

“A feisty one. Tell me, young watcher, how can you resist my spell if you don‘t bear the mark of my brother yet? Such an intriguing specimen.” Herobrine took a step forward, as Grian stepped back. He took the sword from his inventory and with a hissed word it was covered in golden flames. 

“Don‘t resist… You only make me want to own you more.”

„Stop right there“, Grian spat back, not ready to give up, even when he knew he had no chance. He had heard of legends of Herobrine while in the watcher‘s domain and those differed wildly from the ones the humans were telling. “I am not going to help you.”

Herobrine chuckled and the sound seemed to freeze even Grian‘s bones. “Oh, but you will. Because you will tell me your true name. Your watcher name.”

Grian almost laughed at how absurd that sounded. No Watcher ever gave away their name. It was more precious than even their own life. Magic itself told them their name once they became watchers and not even family and friends would hear it spoken. Knowing your true name gave you access to your magic, made you able to control the energies of the worlds. It had been the first thing Grian had been warned about. Never reveal your true name, for if you do you‘ll give up control of your magic to somebody else.

“I‘d rather die.”

Herobrine made another step forward, seemingly unimpressed by Grian‘s sword and Grian took another step backwards.

“Oh I know you would. I made that mistake with the last watcher I found. She forced her own magic to overload. Not a pretty sight. But I know you won‘t. Because I heard you. You did something that no watcher is ever allowed to do, didn‘t you?”

“GRIAN!”

Grian felt his heart stop as he looked to the side, seeing Ren run out of the entrance to their mine, Impulse right behind him.

“I saved him, Grian. I came here because I was intrigued how the thoughts of a mere human reached me. Now I know why. Your magic called out into the void. And you have made one grave mistake, that‘ll cost you everything. You broke your watcher‘s oath. You fell in love with a mortal.”

“No. You can‘t”, Grian breathed out, his eyes zeroing in on Ren as time seemed to slow down.

“But I can. And I will.”

Herobrine‘s hand snapped towards Ren and Grian dropped his sword, wings sprouting from his back as he rushed forwards, trying to reach him in time. Trying to get in between them, trying to take whatever attack was meant for Ren. A few metres before he reached Ren he suddenly slammed into an invisible wall. His eyes flickered back to Herobrine who was smirking, another hand raised, that must have just summoned the wall that separated them. Grian looked on helplessly as some force hit Ren and Impulse, throwing them high into the air and making them fall hard. Impulse was lucky enough to land in the river, but Ren hit the ground with a loud thud.

“REN!!”, Grian banged with his fists against the wall, but it wouldn‘t move. He then pressed his palms against it and desperately tried to channel his own energy into it, but it wouldn‘t disappear or even give in a bit. “Ren please stand up. Please…”

Impulse had resurfaced and ran back to Ren‘s side, shoving a health potion against his lips and Grian sighed in relief when Ren was helped back up into an upright position, looking a bit disoriented but still alive.

“So what do you think, Grian? Your name for his life?”

Grian looked to the side where Herobrine was now leaning against the wall, smiling gleefully at Grian. 

“I won‘t give in. I won‘t.”

“I hoped you‘d say this. Makes it so much more interesting. Now let‘s have some fun. First I need to get rid of the other rat.”

Herobrine‘s eyes seemed to glow as they turned back to Impulse and before Grian could even react he flicked his hands, sending Impulse flying again. Impulse hit one of the trees, hard and some of the branches turned into ropes, tying him tightly to the trunk. “Wouldn‘t want him to intervene again. And now to your little human. What should I do first? Humans are so fragile. They are not like you and me. They have no magic to protect them, to hold them together. I can shatter his soul and even respawn won‘t be able to fix that. Doesn‘t that sound like a plan?”

Herobrine‘s hand started glowing a blinding white and Grian jumped into action again. Burning rage alone was fueling him as he flung himself at the magical being. His physical attack had not been expected and they both fell to the ground. Grian took hold of Herobrine‘s head and slammed it onto the rock when they landed. He could hear a loud crack that went through every fiber of his body.

But those eyes were still open and glowing, looking furiously at him. Grian barely had time to summon a magical shield in front of him before he was thrown away with the force of such a strong magic it still pushed him high up into the sky. He opened his wings and without hesitating soared through the air to attack again. One flick of his wrist and the sword he had dropped came flying to him again, flames bursting out of it once more. The moment he was about to strike a white translucent shield popped up in his path and his blade hit the barrier, sparks flying all around it until the blade broke into tiny pieces. 

With a loud shout Grian dropped the hilt of the sword, drawing back his fist, the golden flames now dancing on his skin. He punched the shield, glaring at the grinning face behind it.

“You can‘t save him, Grian. He was doomed the moment you called out… Or maybe it was even before that. Maybe since the moment he met you. Didn‘t your elders teach you not to mingle with mortals.”

Grian felt a pang of guilt at that and Herobrine‘s grin widened as he seemed to pick up on it immediately. 

“Oh! Don’t tell me you’re a little runaway. A rogue watcher? You intrigue me more and more every second, Grian. I want to have you. I‘ve never wanted a watcher more than I have wanted you and I will have what I want.”

The shield suddenly dissolved into sparkles, but before Grian could react a hand came flying forward, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him up slightly, his feet dangling in the air as he gasped for breath. 

“With your power… With you by my side, I‘ll be able to gain control over the worlds. No admin will be able to stop me ever again.” Herobrine looked into his face, his smile turning into a smirk as his other hand came up to gently wipe away a tear that was rolling down Grian‘s cheek from the lack of air. “It doesn‘t hurt that my price is as beautiful as you are. You‘ll look good at my side. My little prince.”

“Let go of him!”

An arrow flew through the air only to stop at the barrier still between them and Herobrine chuckled. “Love really does turn you into an idiot, but I will oblige. It‘s not him I want to hurt after all.”

The hand around his throat let go and Grian fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for air. It took him a few seconds to gather enough strength to stand up again. His knees were still weak and shaking, but he still tried to stay strong. 

“Ren. You need to run. You need to take Impulse and run.“ Grian‘s voice was raspy from the choking and when he turned to Ren he knew his eyes were glowing from the magic now freely flowing through his veins. „Get as far away as you can. I‘ll blow this whole place to pieces.”

“Grian… Don‘t.”

A sad smile made its way onto Grian‘s face and he touched the barrier, looking at Ren longingly.

“I will be alright.” It was a lie. They both knew it was a lie. Ren had seen with which ease Grian‘s attacks had been stopped. He still turned to run back to Impulse, an axe from his inventory materializing in his hand.

Herobrine made a move to rush Ren, but Grian stepped in between them, wings spread far apart.

“You will not touch him.”

“I won‘t… If you tell me your name.”

Grian‘s eyes glowed and the magic rushed to his hands. „My name is Grian!“, he shouted and let the energy flow. The full blast hit Herobrine, the ground beneath them shaking. Dust was in the air all around them, slowly falling to the ground again. Grian was breathing hard. He hadn‘t been training in a while. He should have kept working on his magic just in case. He had never finished his Watcher training. He was still weak.

The dust faded and Grian didn‘t know if he wanted to laugh or cry as Herobrine still stood there, not even wavering. The dust settled completely. Herobrine wasn‘t smiling this time. He looked angry, one hand on his cheek and as he moved it away Grian could see a bleeding scratch. All this energy and this was all he had achieved.

“You will pay for this. No watcher has ever managed to draw blood. If I didn‘t need you anymore I‘d kill you right there and then…“ Herobrine took a step forward and the ground beneath him cracked from the magic overflowing from his body. „Our little game is over now. I should have taken this more seriously.”

“Game…?”, Grian whispered in shock and before he could move one muscle, Herobrine had his arm raised, but not in his direction. Grian followed the arm to see Ren being ripped away from Impulse who was only half freed by now and being pulled forward, smashing face first into the wall before falling to his knees. 

“Tell me your name or your mortal will die in ten seconds.”

Grian rushed to Ren, banging against the wall, but he couldn‘t get through. He stared back at Herobrine. A glowing red heart appeared in his hand and as he squeezed, Ren started screaming in agony, holding his own chest. Grian dropped to his knees, watching as Ren was shouting in pain.

“5… 4…”

Grian kept looking between them, his own heart racing. He couldn‘t lose Ren. He just couldn‘t. 

“3… 2…”

Ren looked up at him, blood was running from the corner of his mouth, dripping down to the floor. 

“Grian… love…”

“1… and-”

“Xelqua!” Grian‘s scream interrupted Herobrine and the fist he had almost completely closed around the magical heart opened, the energy disappearing. „My name is Xelqua…“

Grian kept his eyes on Ren, tears running through his face. Ren was still breathing hard, but he no longer seemed to be on the verge of dying. Their eyes locked and Ren stretched out his hand towards him, letting his palm rest against the barrier.

Grian let out a sob and reached out as well, their hands almost touching if it weren‘t for the invisible wall separating them. He couldn‘t even feel the warmth of Ren‘s body.

“I love you, Grian. Don‘t… Whatever this means, don‘t let him win… Don‘t.”

“Xelqua.” Herobrine‘s voice was cold and filled with magic. Grian could feel his mind clouding. It took all his energy to resist it, but he needed to… Just one more time. He needed Ren to know.

“Ren… I‘m sorry. I love-”

His mind turned blank. It was as if his body only went through the motions. As if he was watching himself move. He slowly stood up, hand letting go of the wall and stepping up to Herobrine, stopping right in front of him and looking up, waiting. Herobrine‘s face twisted into a delighted smile as he held out his hand and without hesitance Grian grabbed onto it.

“Let‘s go, Xelqua.”

And then everything around them disappeared.

~*~ A/N: So yeah. I really liked this one but it never went anywhere. After the first chapter it was supposed to focus more on Ren’s perspective. Him trying to save Grian. They manage to return to Hermitcraft and team up with Area 77 and Xisuma to try and find Grian and bring him back. Also there was supposed to be some watcher lore here and there about Grian’s past. All the while Herobrine is on his way, conquering the worlds with Grian by his side and maybe turning himself into the ruler with Grian as his ‘Queen’. Yeah. I’m really sad i lost steam here.

[arcxnumvitae]

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world?

For Zhaohui and Qingshan!

@soulsxng || details about ocs!

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

He has a pretty bad habit of messing with his hair when it’s down, around his face, or within hands reach of him. Things like pulling on it, rolling a strand between his fingers, anything along those lines. It is actually pretty distracting to him though when he gets to messing with it, so it’s part of the reason why he keeps it tied up or back. It’s also indicative of him focusing or trying to focus on something if he pushes it back and redoes the tie.

He also has a bad habit of getting into people’s personal space whenever he’s getting more interested in what they say, or if he’s overall getting pretty into the conversation. This one he’s also aware about and whether he reels it in depends entirely on how nice he plans on being in that moment.

For someone always wearing a smile, Zhaohui’s “true face” is actually pretty expressionless. Once someone digs past the layers of joking, then rage, they’ll reach…nothing. It’s like hitting the roots of one of those dead, petrified trees. It’s a worrying phenomenon for sure (for me at least), and something that he actually fully hasn’t caught onto yet.

💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world?

Zhaohui has his never mentioned pearl! He doesn’t ever really have a need to use it, but it’s there. As something often associated with dragons in Chinese mythology, Zhaohui’s pearl is something that was essentially born alongside him. It’s linked to him and he has the ability to use it essentially as a scrying ball and see whatever thing or person that he wants with it. An exception exists where locations of people with especially strong magical protections— or, in Jianhuren’s case when they were missing, exceptionally funky curse stuff going on— are unable to be seen by him. However, the pearl is still capable of showing him “truths”, like how it revealed to him the true story behind Jianhuren’s disappearance. It’s something unique just to him as a fucanglong and he rarely brings it out from its…basically hammerspace. More on that in a second. It’s about palm-sized, black, and glimmers with the a golden undertone that’s the same shade as the gold in his hair and scales.

Going off from that, and this will also dip into Qingshan’s abilities a bit, is his ability to use enchantments. Enchantments are basicallllllly spells granted for use solely by the Red Eyes where expertise and mastery can only come with time and practice. It’s, how to explain it? Its limitations are only the dragon’s imagination and ability.

One example is a translation one used by the Red Eyes whenever they’re out and about. Of course, it was on the dragon themself to learn a language since it still took time to master enchantments enough. For example, Huaxiu learned a whole host of languages because he could utilize the translator effectively enough, and Minglian hasn’t really gotten it down yet, so she’s still manually learning languages and can only communicate in certain ones. Other example of use include creating constructs, like platforms or restraints, and basically having a hammerspace the Red Eyes generally use to store their weapon when not in use but in case they might need to be whipped out.

Zhaohui’s mastery is basically abysmal. He can use the translation enchantment, hammerspace, a baby bit of construct creation though it’s not as strong as it could be, and that’s about it. He essentially stopped practicing and using it much after his banishment.

Geez, this is already long enough but I forgot about the basic stuff for dragons! I'll...put it in Qingshan's section since it won't be as long as I covered a lot of other basic stuff in this one.

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

Qingshan has a tendency to fold and cross her arms in front of her! Cocking her head, she also of note makes facial expression very reminiscent to Huaxiu— or, more like, Huaxiu’s expressions harken back to her.

Give her something that’s in a pair of four and she’ll subtly do whatever to change the number. Four of one thing on a plate? She’s quietly either quickly eating one or destroying it with a utensil somehow. It’s more of a subconscious, ‘oh dear, four’, act than anything.

💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world?

I already described the Red Eyes’ ability for enchantments at length! Haha, so let me just say Qingshan also didn’t practice as much because she was more interested in training with physical weapons, but she’s at least better than Zhaohui in terms of what she can do.

Going into dragon-specific stuff now! Dragons are hardy little lizards. Their scales are impervious can only be injured by enchanted metal-- metal enchanted by a specific process within their geographical area of supernaturals re: China. The gods also included this weakness in the Red Eyes so they didn't have servants that were too unstoppable, in case something went sideways one day. Anyways, enchanted metal can do a number on dragons and you can get creative with it! Get it in a liquid form? It'll mess up their insides. Powder? Probably won't be great if they breathe it in. So on.

Aside from that, dragons are generally all the usuals-- faster than humans, stronger, near instant healing ability. Some of the specific dragons have different abilities, like Meihui. Qingshan and the Red Eyes minus Zhaohui are Tianlongs-- Celestial dragons-- though.

I think I covered everything? I sure hope I did!

[alyjojo]

The Person On Your Mind in June 🥂 2023 - Scorpio

Whole of their energy towards Scorpio: Death

Feelings: The Tower rev

Intentions: Ace of Cups rev

Actions: 9 Wands

It’s not what you want to hear 😕 They’re definitely done, and there are 4 Sagittarius cards here, I felt that energy deeply, before even shuffling. This isn’t the most sensitive & emotionally feely kind of person, which ultimately is at least slightly more on your level, being water. Sag is a typically lighthearted, philosophical, wayyy laid back, not super serious, fun & casual kind of an energy. Scorpio is typically a brooding, very serious, darker sort of funny, instigative of reactions, motive digging, reading the subtext in a room kind of energy. Sag is like what is subtext, I said what I said. Rude or not, don’t care. So while signs next to each other DO often get along well, there are also major differences. Sag energy seems to best describe them. If they’re not, it’s just showing how they act.

I’m definitely seeing this person get involved initially, keeping it casual and leaving it in 2 Swords energy like “we’ll see”. Some kind of conflict occurred where they saw 5 Swords from you, which can be scathing communication, insults, mind games, instigative behavior or trying to prove a point, that kinda thing. They saw this from you and immediately turned the other way, abandoning the connection altogether, possibly ghosting as well, because Death is clarified by 7 Swords, avoiding you 💯 They feel they dodged a bullet they saw coming.

They intend on this being a missed opportunity or unrequited, your side does show more interest than theirs, and they do seem to know they’re liable to hurt you. They intend to break up, or end this, if they haven’t already. Their actions match, they know whatever they say is going to hurt you, because I do get a feeling they’ve tried to think of how best to word things. But in their mind, and vibe, they’re just flat out done.

Messages:

Their side:

- I just want to be alone.

- Going in different directions.

Your side:

- You make me feel ALIVE! ☀️

- I don’t want anyone else.

Possible signs:

Scorpio, Aquarius & Sagittarius

If you’re dealing with:

5 Cups, Strength, & King of Cups rev is your own energy from a sad and disappointed perspective. It could be because of this person, or any of these people & situations. It seems like you’re going through a very difficult time right now with your people and I’m sending you a lot of love 💗 You’re trying so hard to keep hold of your emotions, trying (unsuccessfully) to hold them in, so they don’t release everywhere…like giant biblical levels of emotional flood waters. But that shows just how deeply you’re disappointed, and focused on what you don’t have, what’s ended, or has been lost. So, I’m going to point out the most *positive* people here, so you can spend more time around those that lift you up. Sending you big hugs, I’m sorry you’re feeling this way.

Aries - a person in charge that you think is kind of a dick, could play mind games or be narcissistic with some power they have or feel they have over you…definitely avoid this one 💯

Taurus - could be a friend - a good one, someone you gossip with at work/in a group

Gemini - heartbroken by whatever has happened between you & still carrying that weight with them

Cancer - obsessed with you and will stop at nothing to get you, even lying and telling you whatever you want to hear, be careful 😬

Leo - doesn’t understand what the hold up is, wants to celebrate or reunite with you

Virgo - could be literally moving, relocating, moving from one situation to another successfully, overcoming something and feeling good about it

Libra - a boss bitch that makes decent money, has a decent job, and is very generous with their resources, or you both are together

Scorpio - either planning to take the relationship to the next level, or apologizing because they love you, a very good relationship

Sagittarius - not speaking & doesn’t want to

Capricorn - a missed opportunity for romance, clarifying has some of this reading’s energy, could be this person, it’s not a mutual thing it’s just them

Aquarius - defensive over this person in the reading probably, if you’re giving that person another chance, they seem to love you in a tough love or “fk that bitch” sort of way…but supportive 😆

Pisces - cut you off because you’re too slow and they’re better than that, or switch it

[angelvibezluv]

Thoughts on planets in the 12th house

Sun in 12th Looking at the world from a distance. You enjoy solitude. Away from society and within your imagination. You can see the bigger picture. You act upon your dreams to turn them into a reality. But at times you procrastinate as you tend to dream the whole day away. As you catch yourself drifting off too far, you find that you have to ground yourself back into this reality. Back into society. You may feel as if others have forgotten who you are or as if they don’t even know who you are. You feel alienated. Maybe you can’t, but everyone can see that you come up with the best creative ideas. You are a true artist. You are compromising and you accept those you feel for. Those who are alone and have no place to go. But you can have a hard time seeing things for what they are. Or you just don’t want to accept things for what they are. You may try to convince and lie to yourself often. Try not to hide yourself too much. You deserve to be seen.

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

Moon in 12th Your dreams are everything to you. Similar to Sun in 12th you like to disappear and spend time alone. You may like to sleep the day away because you rather be in that world. A world that isn’t like this one. A world where everything you desire comes true when you close your eyes. Though your internal realm manifests in the physical way faster than the rest. You are a daydreamer. You may feel as if you’re already living within your fantasy. A place where you feel most comfortable. You may have many dreams of your past experiences. They seem familiar. Like you’ve already lived through them before. You feel extremely connected to them. Unrealistic but intuitive. You may feel as if you have a hidden psychic ability. You are sensitive to energies so you must be careful with those you surround yourself with. Remember to protect your own energy.

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

Mercury in 12th You like to communicate your thoughts through art. Writing and drawing. You speak slow. Almost as if you’re pondering on your thoughts as you speak. Trying to think of the wisest thing to say. You take your time. You give great advice because you think of what’s best for everyone. Keeping in mind that others have their own thoughts and feelings as well. Though at times you may have clouded judgement. Finding it hard to think clearly. The emotions and feelings of others influence your own thoughts. You can confuse yourself easily. Losing your train of thought. Thinking of one thing and forgetting it soon after. “I feel like...” is something you say a lot. Going on and and until you decide not to share your thoughts longer. Keeping them a secret.

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

Venus in 12th You are the romanticizer. You have many romantic fantasies. Dreaming of the perfect significant other. You long for this love to come true. Dissvoling the boundaries of this physical realm. You feel deeply connected to those you value in your life. Staring them deep into their eyes as you create an unspoken connection. A spiritual connection. You are naturally gifted with creative skills. Feeling pleasure when creating art and diving into your imagination. You attract a lot of secret admirers. You seem to be out of reach so they watch you from the shadows. Becareful with showing compassion to everyone you meet. Your way of self care is isolating yourself from there rest of the world to self reflect. Though it can get lonely, especially when it comes to relationships. But once you do find yourself a love interest you keep them a secret. You don’t feel the need to show them off to the world.

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

Mars in 12th You attack your dreams with force and passion. You are full of vitality but you can be unaware this. You are restless as your passion knows no bounds. You want to do as much as possible. But you tend to drain yourself out easily. Finding yourself needing excessive amounts of rest. You have a this sex appeal that you may be unaware of. Fierce, confident and dominating. But you can be impatient, and forceful. You may try to avoid conflict but you are braver and stronger than you think. So protective, finding yourself defending others without a thought. But you mustn’t let these energies to control you. Your impulsive decisions can get you into a lot of trouble. A lot of sexual fantasies and scenarios happen in that head of yours. You may have a lot of hidden enemies lurking in the shadows. Those looking for an argument. It’s seems like they want to challenge you and poke at your weak spots.

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

Jupiter in 12th You are highly spiritual or extremely religious. Interested in connecting with with whatever you believe in. You are attracted towards esoteric and taboo things. Tarot cards, astrology, and maybe even witchcraft. You want to learn and experience it all. Your private space may be filled with incense, candles and crystals. You are so wise and some may even call you physic. Collecting information from your dreams and adding your own meanings and reasonings. Your empathy is out of this world and you have so much to give. You may enjoy charity work and giving back to others. Though you rather remain anonymous for these selfless acts for kindness. At times you can get lost in your own world. As you tend to overdue it. You love to travel to wherever your mind takes you.

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

Saturn in 12th You may have felt like you missed out on the unicorns and rainbows in the earlier years of your life. As if your innocence was taken away. Growing up you felt as if you were more mature than the rest. As if you were extremely aware for your own age. You may have been restricted from anything that had to do with spirituality. Not being allowed participate in occult like things. You take your dreams seriously and you work hard to achieve them. Though there can be delays and road blocks. Although things may not always go your way you are highly creative. Never doubt yourself. Eventually all your hard work will pay off and your dreams will come true. You are so imaginative, and always working on your creative skills. You will be able to benefit greatly from your skills one day. You might even profit off them.. ✨

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

Uranus in 12th You have the wildest and craziest dreams. They’re always a good story to tell. They can be confusing and chaotic. Your ideas tend to be misunderstood by others. Ideas that only makes sense to you. At times you may feel as if you have this psychic ability to see the future. Having many prophetic dreams. You are insightful and your intuition is heightened. Your imagination is out of the ordinary. Out of this world. Very different from the rest. You may have been called weird, but soon enough you became an inspiration. Others followed in your foot steps. Admiring your creativity, wishing they could be as skilled as you. You are extremely influential. You’re always one step ahead. Living an unconventional life as a traveller, artist or writer. Living in your own realm of reality, as if you’re not even here.

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

Neptune in 12th You seem to be living in this.. eternal dream state. You are incredibly intuitive and sensitive to the energies around you. You can always feel when something is off. Your dreams may be foggy and you can forget them quickly so writing them down in a dream journal can be extremely beneficial. You may not find interest in daily routines. Your mind wonders off quite often. Way too often. Constantly zoning out and finding it difficult to stay focused. Grounding yourself will be extremely important. As well as finding creative outlets to channel your imagination and to keep yourself busy.

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

Pluto in 12th You feel you must dig into your own darkness so that you can come out strong enough to help others. You give others this sense of power that intimidates them. You can sense their energies. Especially negative ones. You go through many transformations on your own. Once you come out of hiding everyone will notice your dramatic changes. Though you can be prone to addictions as you may find it hard to deal this darkness. You may be afraid of it. The power and intensity within you. So you conceal them. You may have many dark thoughts and scary dreams. You’re always staring into the abyss.

・゜. ✭・. .・✫・. ゜. ・。.

𐐪𐑂 love, angel 𐐪𐑂

[captains-simp]

Yelena Belova ~ Lost Time

Yelena Belova X fem!Reader Smut

Word Count: 1,841

Includes: teasing, kinda public sex, strap on, choking and oral

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Lena!" You grinned like a child on Christmas as your girlfriend came bounding towards you.

She wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace, holding onto you like a lifeline as she kissed your forehead. The pair of you stayed in that comfortable silence for a few minutes, ignoring the crowds of people around you.

"I missed you." You muttered into her chest before finally pulling yourself away, still keeping your hands on her back as she held your waist. She smiled down at you adoringly and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

"I missed you too. Come on, let's get out of here." She said as she picked up her forgotten bags off the floor. You held your hands out to take one but she just smiled at you more and beckoned you forward.

"Let me take one." You protested as you went to swipe a bag off her but the spy only kept her firm grip and chuckled at your numerous attempts.

Yelena had been on a mission in Russia for a couple of months and in that time you never got a chance to talk. You missed everything about her and knew you wouldn't be leaving her side for a while.

You had plans to make up for lost time, but you didn't realise Yelena was a lot more impatient that you.

She had had to get a public plane to Russia as part of her mission rather than a S.H.I.L.D or Stark jet. She didn't need to get one back but when the night she had been booking her flight she had accidentally got a return flight. It was entirely your fault for distracting her with neck kisses but you didn't regret it one bit. It had gotten you what you wanted that night.

You unhelpfully held Yelena's hand as you rushed through the airport, eager to welcome her home properly. The blonde spy let you guide the way as she carried her bags with ease.

You practically sprinted towards your car when it came into view but were taken by completely surprise when Yelena got into the drivers seat after hauling her bags into the back.

"Shouldn't I be driving?" You asked, baffled that she had the energy after such a long flight.

"C'mon!" Yelena urged as she fastened her seat belt and impatiently tapped the steering wheel as you got it, still giving her a questioning look.

The moment Yelena had pulled the car out of the parking space her hand dropped to your thigh. Her thumb stroked the exposed skin slowly and in a gentle manner that contrast to her fingers slightly digging in.

You were wearing one of your skirts that Yelena liked and that always rode up when you sat down. It left a good portion of your thigh exposed and you knew Yelena would take full advantage of that.

You wouldn't put it past her to try something while she was driving, it wasn't like she hadn't done it before.

Just as your thought, it didn't take long for Yelena's hand to wander further up your thigh as you rambled about the few things that had happened while she was gone. You shivered slightly from her touch and tried to ignore the small damp patch in your panties.

Unfortunately, this was something that was very hard to ignore when your girlfriend's fingers were half an inch away from the material. She hummed softly as you spoke, as though she had no idea what she was doing.

There was even a point when she 'wasn't paying attention' to the road and breaked suddenly at a red light. Her grip on your thigh tightened almost unbearably and you couldn't help the moan that slipped from your lips. Yelena smirked at that but didn't say anything.

A piercing silence fell across the car when you stopped talking after that. You were focusing all your attention and will power on not making a sound, especially when Yelena's thumb finally stroked the now embarrassingly big wet patch on your panties that almost made you whimper.

You failed to realise Yelena was pulling into an almost-abandoned car park while you were gripping the seat beneath you. That was until she finally stopped the car and got out of her seat, tearing her hand away from you, and climbed into the back as she spoke a lustfilled - "Fuck, come here."

You fumbled with your seat belt, your head slightly cloudy, then scrambled into the back to meet her.

You almost laughed at what you were doing, the pair of you were like two horny highschoolers.

While you were struggling to get back to her, Yelena was busy undoing her trousers and pulling out the contained toy. You almost stumbled further as you saw the familiar silicone standing proudly.

Eagerly, you straddling Yelena's lap the first moment you could as stared down at the strap as your girlfriend's hands fell to you hips.

The strap grazed your pussy lips as though inviting you forward. You needed no encouragement, already so caught up in the lust that was ruling every inch of your body.

You sunk yourself down onto the silicone toy and moaned as you slowly worked it inside you, needing to adjust after months of not having something so big in such a sensitive area.

It was a relief to feel the strap inside you. The feeling was so familiar and you had missed it so much.

Yelena's right hand left your hip to caress the skin under your shirt, taking her time in familiarising herself with your smooth stomach. Her hand soon ventured higher, slipping under the bra to cup your right breast and give it a light squeeze.

You leaned forward into her grip and unintentionally sunk yourself a few inches lower than your were prepared to take. You gripped Yelena's shoulders as you tried to adjust to the amount in your pussy until you craved more.

You had forgotten how deep that position allowed the strap to go. You were filled up entirely by the girthy length and it was heavenly.

The blonde started to pinch your nipple slowly between her fingers while her palm stayed on your breast, before switching to provide equal attention. Her other hand fell to your waist where she guided your movements to allow you to fuck yourself on her strap.

"Lena!" You moaned breathlessly as you started to bounce on the strap. Everytime it was buried back inside your channel you moaned louder than before, completely blissed out from how deep it hit everytime.

You clenched around it firmly as you threw your head back and shut your eyes to let the pleasure overtake you, far from caring about any possible onlookers.

"Feels so good." You whimpered as your pace increased, desperately trying to find your high.

"Yeah, baby?" Yelena smirked. Her hand left your breast and shot up to grip your neck and squeezing down in the fragile part.

You choked on a moan as your rhythm faltered slightly from being caught off guard, but you soon found your pleasure again that was enhanced but Yelena's grip.

"I'm gonna cum." You communicated through moans. Your movements on your girlfriend's strap turned into grinding, trying to ride her as best you could when your heads were in the clouds.

"Let me help with that." Yelena said before holding your waist in an iron grip with both hands and flipped you onto the seats.

The blonde ground her feet into the car floor to give her more leverage before pounding the strap back into your soaking pussy. This earned her a whorish moan from you that was cut off when her hand returned to your neck. You wrapped your legs around her to allow Yelena to sink the strap further into you everytine her hips snapped forward.

Her thrusts were rough and fast, occasionally spilling a soft groan from the spy's lips as she fucked you into your high.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" You all but screamed, clenching down on the toy like a clamp. Yelena fucked you through your orgasm until your legs went limp and dropped back down beside her.

"I missed this." Yelena smiled between butterfly kisses along your lips and jaw.

She slowly guided your legs onto the car seats and it took you a moment to realise that the blonde was getting you to lie down.

"And after seeing you come undone so nicely I really need to cum. Remind me what that tongue can do."

Yelena took the strap off of her hips and presented her glistening pussy to you. You bite your lip at the sight and instantly held the back of her thighs when she straddled you.

In moments, her dripping pussy was above your watering mouth, barely an inch away. The blonde lowered herself onto your eager mouth as you relished in the familiar scent that overwhelmed you.

You licked a long strip of Yelena's folds before sucking her clit between your lips and moaning at the taste of her. Your tongue dipped slightly between her wet folds before you retracted to pick up the surrounding arousal.

Yelena was gripping your hair and gasping out everytime your tongue hit one of the never ending nerves you had come to memorise better than your own.

Her muscular thighs were practically locking your head in place and allowing her to grind on your tongue as much as she wanted.

"Perfect, malyshka." She cooed when your tongue slipped further inside to explore. You hummed against her and seemingly spiked her pleasure by doing so.

"Keep fucking me with your tongue." She instructed. You complied, pushing your tongue in and out of her pussy until it was becoming difficult.

As Yelena approached her high her walls starter to clench around your tongue and consequently force it out. You fucked her with earnest and occasionally curled your tongue inside her while she all but suffocated you.

With a moan of your name, your girlfriend came around your tongue and desperately grinded against you to draw out every last bit of her orgasm.

Yelena fell back against the opposite side of the back seat and gave you a breathless smile. Her face was slightly flushed and you had no doubt yours was too.

You took a minute to admire her as she got her breathing back to normal, the playful smile never leaving her face.

"Plenty more where that came from." She finally spoke with her childish grin.

You rolled your eyes and lightly kicked her side.

"Later, we have to get home. You have two months of TV to catch up on." You reminded her, already invisioning the rest of the day and night.

"I can multi task." Yelena argued.

"Really? I don't recall." You lied, knowing exactly what it would get you.

'Then I'll give you a reminder." The blonde smirked as she leaned forward to kiss you again.

[staticscreenwriting]

Where the heart is // B. B.

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) are getting a divorce because they are silly and both love the other so damn much. (Happy Ending!)

TW: Talk of divorce. Talk of potential pregnancy and babies.

A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.] 

TAGLIST: Find the link to join my taglist in my bio. Will reblog this post with the taglist attached seperately. 

Waking up from this nightmare How's your life, what's it like there? Is it all what you want it to be? Does it hurt when you think about me? And how broken my heart is

The apartment is deadly quiet as Bucky steps inside, only the rattling of his keys echoing through the halls that once seemed so warm and inviting are now but a cold reminder of what used to be.

People never really talk about these moments. The after. The wreckage. The ruins of what used to be. Sure there are movies and books and countless songs but they take the feeling and they wrap it up in beautiful words and prose and make something beautiful of it.

There’s nothing beautiful in the way Bucky feels as his feet drag him towards what used to be his bedroom, which is now hers. There’s nothing beautiful in the way he feels as his eyes wander over to the closed door behind which lays an empty room. One that is empty not because of choice but because of the shitty cards life has dealt both him and her.

There is nothing beautiful about the way he feels. Only sadness. Only hurt.

When he turns the corner and steps into the bedroom, his heart drops for a second. He hadn’t expected her to be here, not with how quiet the place is. But sure enough, there she is. Sitting on the fluffy comforter they bought together, legs tucked underneath herself. She said that comforter was the exact same shade of blue as his eyes. Now she doesn’t even lift her head to look at him, focusing only on the box resting on the bed before her.

“Hey uh — I didn’t expect to run into you.”  

“ I live here. Sorry to disappoint.“

“ I know, that’s not what I meant. It’s just so quiet. “

She shrugs but still doesn’t look up. There’s so much resentment there, dripping from every word. He can’t fault her for it. Not even a little. If he was her, he’d hate himself too. Maybe this will make it easier for them. If she hates him, that’s a straight cut. Right? Hating is easy. It’s loving that’s hard.

“ It’s like that now. You here to get some of your stuff?” she asks, looking up at him for the first time. Her eyes are red and tired. Not like they were when he left, filled with tears and sorrow. Now they’re just infinitely sad and exhausted. Like all the life and all the warmth and all the passion that he fell so deeply in love with, has been sucked out of her. He hates knowing it’s partially his fault.

“ If that’s okay with you.”

“ sure. “

The movies and the poems and the books and the songs, they never talk about this. The after. The limbo. The “will you keep this or shall I take it?”

They don’t talk about the fact that you’re supposed to pack 5 years of relationship into a bunch of boxes and figure out what to do with it.

He quietly walks into the closet, as if making any noise would break whatever bubble is currently surrounding the two of them. Sometimes he wonders if things would be different had they been different people. Had they been able to express their feelings differently. Sometimes, in the most secret part of his heart, Bucky wishes there would’ve been screaming. Maybe screaming would’ve been helpful. Sure, it’s not the most eloquent way of communication but at least it is communication. But there was no screaming. Only silence. Only feelings swallowed up to never be spoken about. To suffocate them from the inside out.

Making as little noise as possible, Bucky grabs some of his clothes and stuffs them into the duffle bag Sam gave him. He had that look on his face, the pitiful one. The one that says “sorry, man”. There’s no reason to feel sorry for Bucky. This is his fault after all.

There’s a sound coming from behind him, and for a second he really believes it’s his mind playing tricks on him. But then he hears it again, louder this time, more clearly.

She’s laughing. Maybe not a full-on laugh but a chuckle. It’s been a while since he’s heard that sound.

“ What’s got you laughing like that ? “ Bucky asks as he turns back around only to be greeted by her smiling face. God how much he misses that smile.

She looks back down towards the box in front of her and the picture in her hand.

“ It’s uh — it’s a picture of the first time you stayed over. “

His legs carry him towards the bed as if they work on autopilot. As he sits down next to he can just about make out the scent of her shampoo. The one he bought for himself last week, not because he necessarily likes to use it. He bought it because he misses the scent. Because he misses her. And if he can keep her close like this, even for a small moment, he’ll buy an entire store's worth of shampoo.

Her fingers gently grip the picture so as to not rip or crumble it. He can’t hold back the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips as he recognizes the picture. It’s a slightly less gloomy version of him, in love and asleep. Curled up on her old tiny couch in her old tiny apartment with her dog Yoda sleeping soundly on his chest. He was so nervous to stay over at her place the first time he did. Nervous about so many different things but mostly about doing something to hurt her. Physically but also emotionally. To think that now his biggest fear came true, crushes his heart even further.

“ I miss Yoda. He was a good dog,” she says as she puts the photo back into the box. Truth be told, Bucky misses him too. He was grumpy and lazy and he didn’t ever really listen to them. But he was loyal and cuddly and all in all, he was the perfect dog for the two of them. And he had accepted Bucky into his and her life immediately. As if he knew that Bucky of all people needed nothing more than a chance to prove himself to be something other than a killer.

There are more pictures in the box, alongside other clutter that Bucky can’t quite make out. One of the other pictures he can see clearly, is one of the two of them on their first Halloween. The Halloween that Bucky didn’t want to dress up for. The one he promised himself he would spend curled up on his couch watching a scary movie and not open the door to anyone, Trick or Treaters or otherwise.

He ended up going out anyway. With her. FOR her. And it was one of the best nights of his life even if it meant he had to dress up like a skeleton.

“ What is all this? “ he asks though, by the way his heart starts beating faster, Bucky isn’t sure he even wants to know the answer to that question. “ You getting rid of our pictures? “

He doesn’t want it to sound so accusatory. They’re broken up. Separated. In the early process of a divorce. She has every right to get rid of their pictures. Get rid of him. Bury the memories. Just because he can’t let go doesn’t mean that she’s grieving in the same way.

“ No, “ she scoffs and pulls out a small scrap of paper, “ this is a memory box I started when we first got together. It’s things I didn’t know where to put but that I wanted to hold on to. I had planned to give it to you for our 10 year anniversary but … well “

She doesn’t have to say it. He knows.

“ Then after the — seperation I put some other stuff in there. Memories.” 

“ Can I see what else is in there? “ he asks “ since I won’t get to see it on our 10 year anniversary.”

Bucks isn’t quite sure why he adds that to the end of his sentence. It makes him sound spiteful and mean and he can tell, by the look on her face, that it hurts her. And he’s done enough of that in the past. Isn’t that exactly the reason they are here in the first place?

She considers it for a moment and Buck can only guess the different kinds of emotions running through her then. He feels them too. All of them. They are confusing and most of them are negative. She has no reason to let him see this, relish in sweet nostalgia with him as if everything is okay and they’re not getting a fucking divorce.

“ Sure, I guess. I —  yeah.”

She scoots more to the middle of the bed, making more space for Bucky to sit down properly. He’s perched on the side that was his. The side he fell asleep on and woke up on so many times. And she was there next to him. Always there and warm and soft. And she’d smile at him through sleepy eyes and a hazy mind and she’d rival the sun. And then she’d gently comb her fingers through his hair and say good morning and he knew it would be — a good morning.

He hasn’t had a good morning since he left.

She moves the box to sit between them on the bed and motions for Bucky to start digging in.

There’s a pile of what he realizes are old movie tickets. It's something they used to do when they first started dating. Thursdays were movie days. But while everyone went to see the new blockbusters, the two of them would pick the movies that sounded the weirdest and they’d buy a big bucket of popcorn and blue raspberry slushies and just relish in the grandeur that is bad cinema. Most of the time they were the only ones at the cinema. Sometimes things got — R rated.

“ Why did we stop doing this? “ she asks as Bucky looks up from the tickets “ going to the movies I mean. It was always my favorite day of the week. “

He tries to remember. Tries to pinpoint the moment when life changed and their Thursdays weren’t their Thursdays anymore. He can’t. He comes up empty.

Sometimes life changes in little ways, ones you don’t realize at that moment and they don’t seem significant either. It’s a broken tradition. A missed movie night. It’s slow and creeping but at some point, you stop and look at your life now and it doesn’t resemble your life then anymore. Everything has changed and you didn’t even notice. Not for one single second.

“ I have —  I have no idea. “ he has to confess.

“ Remember that movie with the killer florist ? “ she asks and her voice is laced with laughter. Something sparks up in his heart. A tiny flicker of something he’s missed. Something he hasn’t felt in a while. He can’t help but laugh along.

“ I do! Or the one where the woman fell in love with the Koi in her neighbor's pond? ”

“ Oh god! That was terrible. “

“ It was.”

She looks wistful for a moment as if her thoughts wander off to some long-forgotten memory.

“ What are you thinking about? “

He never usually had to ask her. He’d either know or she’d tell him on her own accord. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between them. One he wants to break down or climb over so badly. But does she want him there? After everything?

“ The day we saw that movie was the first time you said I love you. “

It’s true. Now that she mentions it he remembers it so clearly. It’s like he’s suddenly faced with a scene from a movie he’s forgotten about a long time ago but once someone mentions it, he remembers it in great detail. Knows every word. Every line.

“ I still don’t quite know what it was about that moment that made you say it but — “ she trails off, a smile playing on her lips.

Bucky knows. It wasn’t a groundbreaking realization back then. He’d been feeling it for months. Fell deeper in love with her with every glance, every smile, every silly movie he got to watch with her. They went to some dingy diner after the movie to grab a burger and some fries. The leather seats were old and the filling was spilling out, the air smelled of grease and air freshener, and the laminated menu cards were sticky with undefinable stains. All things considered, it should’ve been a bad date. It wasn’t though. Nothing was ever bad with her. She smiled. All she did was smile and hum along to some song Bucky didn’t know as it spilled from the jukebox. And it occurred to him then, that there was no need for a big gesture or a special moment. Every moment with her was special. Life couldn’t get any better than this. Existing was enough if only she was there.

“ Nothing. “

“ Hm? “

“ There was nothing special about that moment. I just realized that I would be okay with anything if only you are there. You — that’s all I need in life. “

She looks at him then and for a second he thinks that maybe she’ll kiss him. Tell him that they are making a mistake and ask him to come back. Tell him that she doesn’t blame him. That she forgives him. That she wants him anyway. Despite — everything. She doesn’t though. Just sighs and pulls another picture from the box.

It’s a picture of the two of them cuddled up on the couch with a tiny white ball of fluff resting on her chest.

“ Our first picture with Alpine. “

“ That was taken on the day we found him. Look, you can clearly see the scratches on my face from crawling around the dumpsters to rescue him. “ Bucky points out.

He had never thought of himself as a cat person. Really he wasn’t so much an anything-person anymore, after Hydra. But somehow that little cat had wormed his way into his heart and refused to leave.

“ Was worth it though! “

Bucky nods his head in agreement “ it was. “

“ You should — you should take him. He’s really more your cat than mine.”

“ He’s our cat.” he points out.

“ Bucky there won’t be an ours anymore. Soon.”

It breaks his heart. Over and over again. He just got used to being himself. The version he was when he was with her. How is he gonna deal with doing it all over again? He doesn’t want to be a version of himself after her.

“ I don’t have a place yet and Sam’s allergic. “

“ He can stay here until then, of course. I love him. “

There’s a lot of love there that’s being given up on, Bucky realizes. And he hates every part of it.

“ Shit, remember this? “ she chimes up again as her hand holds onto a thin receipt, the black ink bleached away and thinned out from years of being stuck in a box. From years of memories fading.

“ Is that from the —”

“ The tattoo place, yeah. “

The patch of skin on the inside of his arm grows hot as if he is suddenly aware of what is there. Something long forgotten. A small letter forever etched into his skin in black ink like the way she’s forever etched into his heart. Always there. Forever. Just like the delicate lines that write his own name onto her collar bone. James. Not Bucky. Not Winter Soldier. James.

“ Oh god, I can’t believe you kept these,” Buck exclaims as he picks a pair of bright blue knitted socks from the box. They’re made from scratchy wool and there are a million and one holes in them. It’s so her. So quintessentially her. To keep them. With their holes and their scratchy wool and all. Even if they’re a mess. Even if they’re broken. She holds onto things no matter how bad. No matter how lost and sad and broken and useless. She holds on tight and doesn’t let go. Unless you make her. Unless you force her to. Unless you break her heart.

“ Umm … you made them for me. Like you literally learned how to knit to make me a pair of socks to keep my feet warm. That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, Buck. Of course, I kept them. “

Bucky bashfully shrugs his shoulders, a tint of red dusting his cheeks. “ I’m glad you liked them. Even if they’re scratchy. “

“ I like you and Alpine and you guys are the scratchiest,” she points out. She’s not wrong.

“ Was I a good boyfriend? “ Bucky asks and while in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter, he wants to know anyway. Wants to know he did something right.

“ You were the best boyfriend. “

“ I’m sorry I was a shit husband. “

She stays quiet for a moment and with every second that passes by he breaks more and more. He wonders how much of him is left at this point. How much there’s still to lose. Then again, what does it matter? He lost her and that’s all that really matters.

“ You weren’t a shit husband, Bucky. “

It’s like the world suddenly moves in slow motion as they both grab the 2 things left in the box.

Bucky holds onto the blue velvet box knowing exactly what’s inside. The last time he held it, got on his knees in front of her, put the ring on her finger, that was one of the best days of his life. A sign that the Winter Soldier was his past and that he could finally truly move on. They were younger, in love. Happy. Now he hardly remembers what happiness feels like.

“ I was so nervous to give this to you. Not because I thought you’d say no or anything. I just — I just wanted to be enough. The ring and the proposal and — me. “

“ You were always enough. “ she says and he can hear the tears in her voice. It’s thick and heavy and he knows that if he looks at her now, there will be tears in her eyes too.

But he doesn’t look at her then. His eyes fall onto the piece of fabric in her hands. It’s so small. Soft peached colored with a little bunny embroidered on the front. It’s tiny and cute and it belongs to no one. It’s tiny and it should’ve been theirs. But it isn’t.

“ No, I wasn’t. He says and shakes his head. You deserve more than I can give you. “

She throws the baby romper back into the box and gets off the bed as if someone has set it on fire.

“ What’s wrong? “ he asks as if he doesn’t know. Everything. Everything about this situation is wrong. They’re supposed to make love on this bed, not cry over memories long gone. Push away thoughts of their looming divorce.

“ I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe you can tell me. “ She calls out to him as she pulls the rest of his shirts from the closet and throws them into the bedroom. Colors of fabric flying through the air like wings of a bird flapping through the winds. Some of them she lops at him, passion and anger and wrath and sadness filling her eyes. “ Maybe you can tell me why the fuck we’re doing this. Why we’re putting ourselves through all this pain and suffering and this bullshit divorce. Maybe you can tell me why you left me to have a fucking breakdown every time I walk into my closet and see this goddamn dress, “ she cries while holding up the hanger over which her beautiful white wedding dress is draped. God, she looked so beautiful that day. Like a goddess. Like an angel. Like his redemption.

“ We were happy. We were trying to have a family. And then what — it doesn’t work and you leave? You just gave up. “

“ I didn’t give up. “

“ Yes, you fucking did! You gave up and you served me divorce papers and you didn’t even give me a fucking choice. “

“ You agreed! “

“ Because I love you and if you don’t want to be with me, then I am not keeping you. I love you enough to let you be happy even if it’s without me.”

Those words send a shock through his heart. Like an icicle. Cold and sharp and unforgiving.

“ You think I don’t love you? You think YOU are the reason?,” Bucky questions before grabbing the romper from the box and holding it up “ this is the reason. This is my fault and mine alone. It’s my fault that this belongs to no one. It’s my fault that there’s an empty room in this apartment that you can’t walk into because it hurts you too much to see it empty. You deserve to be a mother and clearly, I can’t give that to you. That’s the burden I carry but it’s not one that should be put on you. I can’t give you this but you deserve it and you should have it. So this is me letting you go so you can find someone that can give you a baby. Someone who isn’t broken. Someone who doesn't have a body that doesn’t work anymore. Not in the way it should. “

“ James, “ her words a but a whisper as his name tumbles from her lips and she lets her wedding dress fall to the floor to sit next to him and hold his face in between her hands. “ That wasn’t your fault and you are not broken. I want a family, yes. I want a child. But with you. I want a family with you and it doesn’t matter if it’s my blood or not. It’s our family whichever way we decide to do this. And if we — if we stay just us and Alpine that’s fine too. I just want you and whatever else we decide on. Together. I love you, James. I love you and I miss you and I don’t want a baby if it’s not with you. A family means nothing if it doesn’t include you. Whatever the consequences of the serum are, they are not your fault. You are not broken, James. You are you. You’re a hero. A husband. And maybe one day a father but above all, you are James Buchanan Barnes, a survivor and you are not broken.  “

He knows he should be saying so many things right then but all his thoughts get tangled up and won't find the way to his lips.

Instead, he says the only other thing he can think about right then.

“ You looked so beautiful in your wedding dress. “

She laughs through the flood of tears that leak from her eyes and trail down her face.

“ I mean you always look beautiful but that day. My god. I honestly couldn’t believe you said yes to me — of all people. 106 year old me. Wouldn’t believe it until the moment you walked down the aisle. Then I knew that this was really the start of my new life. Of my forever. “

“ I miss you Bucky. “

“ I miss you too. “

“ I don’t want to divorce you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband.”

“ Even without the babies? “

“ Yes, “ she nods and brushes her fingers through his short hair. “ You are my family James and you are enough for me. Always”

“ I love you. “ he says because really, it’s the only thing he can think of. The thing he wants most. The only thing that matters.

Without another word, he pulls the ring from the box and delicately slips it back onto her finger. Where it belongs. Where it always belonged.

“ I’m sorry I was ever this stupid. I should’ve just talked to you “

“ Yeah you should have but right now can you — can you just kiss me? “

She doesn’t need to ask him twice. He kisses her once, then twice, then once again. It’s been a long long time since the last time he’s kissed her. Too long. Way too long.

He’s not gonna stop anytime soon. Never again. Never ever again.

“ Hey, “ he says “ how about you slip into your wedding dress I think for all my stupid decisions I owe you a dance. “

“ I think you might be right. “

And she’s smiling, so bright and radiant. Like the sun. Like all the stars. Like his own personal light in the darkness.

“ Don’t expect too much though. I just cried, my hair is a mess — I won’t look the way you remember me looking in this dress. “

“ You’ll look gorgeous.”

And he’s right. She looks breathtaking. She looks like a wonderful, wonderful dream. Like love captured in a person. Like a second chance. Like his home.

There are a lot of thoughts racing through Bucky’s mind as he pulls her close and they sway to the melodic tunes of their wedding song as it sounds from the speakers of her cellphone. But above all there’s love. And the knowledge that he is enough. That they are enough. Their tiny little family. Perfect and not broken or missing anything. It’s good as it is.

They don’t have to think about who gets to keep the decorative throw pillows, the records they used to collect together, the plates that were a wedding gift, the cat. Because it’s theirs. Together. Shared.

And forever.

[mcyt-agere]

Sick Day

CG!Awesamdude x Little!Reader (Big!Phil)

Warnings: Mentions of sickness

Notes: x

-------------------

You hate when Sam has to go to work, especially when you're not feeling the best.

However, you had promised him that you would be okay while he was gone.

Sam left for the prison reluctantly a few hours ago, but now you're beginning to regret promising him anything.

Your stomach hurts, and you just want to cuddle with Sam in bed.

Not be alone by yourself.

Your small sniffles sound deafening as they bounce off the empty walls of yours and Sam's shared house.

You don't want to be alone anymore.

Picking up your communicator, you try to type out a message to Phil.

Between your illness and your looming fuzziness of little space, your message is practically unreadable.

When Phil receives the message, he's not sure what you're trying to say, but he knows he should try to find you.

He checks Sam's house first, and his heart breaks a little bit at the sound of your cries.

"y/n, what's wrong?", he sits on the edge of the bed.

You motion to your stomach, not even sure how to say it.

"Are the meds in the bathroom?", he asks, standing to his full height.

"Don' wan meds.", you whimper.

Phil's entire demeanor changes within seconds.

"I didn't realize I had a little on my hands.", he coos, sitting back down.

This changes his entire approach to the situation.

"How old are you, sweetheart?", he keeps his voice soft, still assessing the situation.

Your fingers flick between two and three, not quite sure where you're at exactly.

"Wow, really little. How about we get some medicine and go get your daddy?", Phil offers.

You immediately perk up at the mention of getting to see Sam.

Phil leaves your side for a split second in order to find some medicine for you.

As you stand to try to find your stuffie, your stomach turns over.

You don't get sick, but you can feel your stomach start turning more rapidly.

"What are you doing out of bed?", Phil rushes to your side, helping you back in bed.

"Mad?", you squeak as you get back in bed.

"I'm not mad. No, not mad.", he assures you, pushing a few pieces of hair out of your face.

"Daddy?", you mumble, your delirious state only focused on Sam.

"I messaged him, honey. He'll be here soon.", Phil tries to alleviate your anxiety about missing Sam.

Phil tries his best to keep you as comfortable and happy as possible until Sam gets there, but he has to admit that he's a little relieved to hear the front door open.

"Phil, I had to cancel a visit from Ranboo for you. What's going on?", Sam sets his favorite trident by the door.

Phil leans forward to whisper in his ear, not wanting you to hear.

"You have a sick little to look after.", he pulls back, watching Sam's entire expression change.

His anger immediately wipes away, his lips dropping into a frown.

"I think it's a stomach bug, but it seemed like they were getting better. I'll let you take charge now."

Sam thanks Phil multiple times before rushing to the bedroom.

There's a cold cloth resting on your forehead, your eyes squeezed shut.

You don't even hear the door open or Sam come in until the bed sinks down next to you.

You blearily blink until your eyes focus on the nervous face hovering above you.

"Daddy?", you croak, voice tired.

"Hey, baby. I'm sorry I wasn't here faster.", he apologizes.

You try to curl up with him, but he's still sitting up.

A soft whimper escapes your lips, and he takes the hint.

"Just one second.", he moves away to change clothes before getting into bed.

You move to curl up with Sam again, and you're careful to not move too fast.

"You feeling any better, sweetie?", he kisses your hand, not wanting to disturb the cloth covering your forehead.

You don't reply verbally, preferring to nuzzle closer to him.

He understands that you don't want to speak right now, the pain from your stomach mixed with how little you are is a lot to deal with for you, and he knows it.

"Do you want a story?", he whispers.

You hum a little, enough to let him know that you want one.

Sam begins to recite "Goodnight Moon."

From how many times he has read it to you, he knows it by heart.

Halfway through his story, you squeeze him tighter, a pang of pain in your stomach.

Sam reaches towards the nightstand, digging around in the drawer until his hand lands on what he was looking for.

"Here, baby.", he whispers, holding the pacifier in front of your lips.

You open your mouth the slightest bit, lips barely parted.

He pushes the paci into your mouth, smiling when you finally start sucking on it.

"You should take a nap.", he suggests softly.

"Uh, uh.", you shake your head.

You may not feel the best, but you'd rather stay up and cuddle than sleep the time away.

"It'll make you feel better.", Sam mumbles, rubbing circles on your back.

Before you can help it, you can't keep your eyes open.

"Goodnight, baby. I hope you feel better in the morning."

[tobesolonely]

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless​ for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together. 

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set). 

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you. 

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?” 

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.” 

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?” 

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice. 

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?” 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.” 

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up. 

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him. 

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing. 

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. 

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.” 

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates. 

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks. 

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?” 

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy. 

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room. 

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with. 

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family. 

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way. 

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted. 

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.” 

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you  choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you. 

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.” 

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?” 

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Ch. Twenty Three

⚠WARNING: Mentions of mental health treatment

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You look up from your phone, glancing at your companions. Kita is resting his head on Aran’s shoulder, his eyes closed. Aran also has his eyes closed. From a quick glance it looks like they’re sleeping but they’re both sitting far too tense. Suna is sitting in his chair, awake. He’s scrolling on his phone but his eyes have a glazed-over look.

Needless to say, you’re all quite worn out.

Your phone pings and you look at the new messages.

You stand from your seat and walk over to Kita and Aran. They stir immediately, giving away the fact that they weren’t asleep at all.

“My friends are going to stop by with dinner,” you say. “They’re bringing enough for us all, including the Miyas. But I’m not sure if they’ll be down.”

Aran blinks in surprise but Kita stands to dip into a bow. “That is very generous of them, thank you. I have some money that I would like to use to pay.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary!” You wave your hands in front of you. “Please, it will be our treat.” Kita looks like he wants to interrupt so you speak again with a smile. “Please, you are all visitors. It would not be very hospitable for me, so I insist.”

This time Kita is the one who blinks at you. He doesn’t reply right away, so Aran leans around him and gives you a smile. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sure Kita won’t want to object to your hospitality.”

“No, not at all.” Kita murmurs. But he gives you a small smile before bowing his head again and sitting down. You nod and go back to your seat. Suna still has his eyes on his phone but you hear a small mumble from the side after you sit.

“Thanks.”

You glance at him and nod. Your group falls into a lapse of silence, which again gives your brain ample time to wonder. You can’t stop thinking about Osamu, and hoping that he’s okay. Sure he’s physically okay, especially here in the hospital. But you have no idea what a psychiatric watch entails. Is he alone? Does someone have to sit with him and watch him? Does he have to be restrained?

That idea alone makes your heart throb, and you clench your fists to stop the onslaught of negative thoughts. But it doesn’t stop the image of Osamu sitting alone, tied to the bed and looking petrified.

You physically shake your head. There’s no way he’s alone. His parents went up there ages ago. His mother was not about to leave him alone if she could help it. She was in tears when she met you, clearly relieved at the idea of Osamu having a friend in Sendai. She must have been so worried about him, and so scared that he’d never see him again.

It makes your heart ache for your own parents, but you know it’s just noticeable from being close to this situation. You miss your parents, sure, but you talk to them nearly every other day. You visit them and they visit you. Your relationship is fostered with constant communication and check-ins.

You can only imagine how distant and helpless Osamu’s mother has felt these past few weeks without any contact from Osamu. And how powerless she must have felt when realizing that she couldn’t reach out to him in any way.

Part of it breaks your heart, for both Osamu and for his mother. But another part of you is grateful that you were able to be some support for Osamu when he was truly alone here in Sendai.

“Y/N-chan,” a voice calls out. You turn and see Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki head towards you, all laden with plastic bags filled with food. Makki looks worried, Mattsun stoic, but Oikawa glances around the lobby. You watch him offload his bags to Mattsun before he makes for the reception desk. There, several nurses and staff are glaring at your group - you hope that Oikawa can run interference and make them not hate you enough to kick you out.

“Hey guys,” you greet and stand when Makki and Mattsun get closer. Makki sets his bags down on a chair and immediately pulls you into his arms.

“How are you doing?” He asks.

“I’m okay, just exhausted.” You pull away and turn to Kita, Aran and Suna. “This is one of my best friends Hanamaki Takahiro, and that’s his boyfriend Mattsukawa Issei.” Mattsun looks up from where he’s organizing the take out on a small end table and nods.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Makki says. “I hope our dear Y/N-chan hasn’t been too much trouble for you.”

You elbow Makki for his quip, not missing his smirk. It’s not a full Makki smirk but it’s the start of one.

“On the contrary Y/N has been more than helpful.” Kita says politely. “My name is Kita Shinsuke. This is Aran Ojiro and Suna Rintarou.” Aran waves his hand in greeting while Suna just nods. Kita bows towards Makki. “Thank you for bringing dinner, it is very appreciated.”

“But of course!” Oikawa saunters over and sets down a stack of plates and cutlery. His schmoozing of the hospital staff must have gone better than you thought. “And I am Y/N-chan’s best friend - Oikawa Tooru.”

“Yeah, we met you yesterday.” Aran points out, as if Oikawa genuinely forgot and is not re-introducing himself for attention.

“It’s kind of hard to forget someone like you.” Suna says quietly. Oikawa glows at that, but you’re almost certain Suna meant it as an insult. Before you can say anything Mattsun speaks.

“The food is going to get cold, so let’s eat.”

Everyone murmurs thanks and fills up their plates. There’s plenty to feed them all, plus the Miyas, and give them enough leftovers. Everyone sits down in the chairs and digs in.

You know you should eat but you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than push the food around your plate. Suna, sitting next to you, is in a similar state. Both of your actions don’t go unnoticed by Oikawa.

“Y/N-chan, Stringbean - you need to eat.” He chides.

“Stringbean?” Suna asks flatly.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” Oikawa smiles sweetly, the challenge going unanswered when Suna looks back at his plate.

“Suna-kun, please try to have some food.” Kita’s gentle request carries the cadence of an order, and Suna is quick to comply. You glance at Kita, who gives you a nod. “You too, YN.”

You nod and turn back to your food. You twirl your fork in some noodles and take a bite. Looking back up you see both Oikawa and Kita smiling at you.

It’s quiet for a few more minutes, where you’re able to get some more food in you, when Kita speaks up.

“I just want to thank you all again for bringing dinner. Especially today, I understand that it is a more difficult day than others.” Kita pauses, his face turning somber. “And it goes without saying, but I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Wait, how do you know about that?” Mattsun asks.

“Oikawa informed me of the date last night.” Kita answers.

“Oh.” Mattsun answers. He pokes at his food. “We’re sorry for your loss also.”

Kita nods. “Thank you.” It’s quiet again after that, both groups of friends finishing the food on their plates.

You find it a bit surreal that all the people surrounding you now are similar yet so different. And how crazy your paths have become intertwined purely by chance.

You don’t get much time to ruminate on this thought for long before Osamu’s parents come down into the lobby. You all watch as they walk towards your group, Kita and Aran standing to meet them.

Osamu’s mother holds up her hands. “Osamu is going to be alright.” She looks exhausted but there’s a light in her eyes that wasn’t there before. “His fever broke but they’re going to keep him overnight so he can rest.”

Your group lets out a collective sigh and you feel your heart lighten at the news.

But she’s not done talking. “We spoke with the doctor and she called in a psychiatrist and they recommended that Osamu should stay at an in-patient facility here in Sendai for a month. If his doctors are happy with his progress and he’s happy with his progress, he’ll move back home for out-patient therapy.”

Suna speaks up. “He’s coming home?”

The mom nods with a smile. “Yes, he’s coming home.”

Suna exhales sharply and falls further into his seat. He covers his face with his hands and breathes hard. You can see his shoulders shaking minutely, and watch as Aran ducks down to put an arm around his shoulders. Kita steps up to give Osamu’s mother a hug. He’s speaking to her softly but you can’t make out what he’s saying.

You feel someone come up next to you. “Are you alright?”

You glance and see Oikawa watching Kita and Osamu’s mom hug. You take a second to gauge how you’re actually feeling right now, given everything that has happened to you today.

“I’m relieved,” you answer honestly. “Osamu is okay and he’s going to be okay. But also, I’m proud that he’s taking the necessary steps to help himself.”

“Yeah, but,” Oikawa starts. “He’s going to move away from Sendai. And Hyogo is pretty far…”

He trails off and he gives you a sad look. It takes you a second but when you realize what he’s implying your face hardens.

“Osamu is getting the help he needs, and I’d be a terrible friend if I was anything but supportive of that.”

“I know, I know.” Oikawa quickly replies. “I wasn’t trying to make it seem like you didn’t care about him.”

You smile, feeling the previous irritation melt away. “Thanks Tooru.” You pull your friend into a side hug, and let him squeeze you back. You understand what he was trying to say, but you stand by your words - your feelings are the least important thing right now.

“Y/N?” Osamu’s mom comes up to you and Oikawa. Behind her you see Osamu’s dad being introduced to Mattsun and Makki while getting served food from Aran. But you’re focused on the woman standing in front of you now. “Osamu said he wanted to talk to you, if you wanted.”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“Visiting hours have ended but the doctors have made a special exception for you - I can take you up to his room but you’ll only be able to talk for 15 minutes.”

“Oh.” You can’t really say more, still completely thrown by what’s happening. Osamu wants to see you, apparently bad enough to warrant special permission.

But what you’re really focusing on is that Osamu wants to see you. That last time you and Osamu were in the same room he was delirious with a fever, and the time before that he was drunk and angry with you.

You’re pretty certain that he’s more coherent now than either previous time, but you’re still caught off guard with his request.

But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see him too.

“Okay,” you finally answer. “But I can go up by myself, if you want to sit and get some food.”

The woman blinks before she gives you a smile. It’s so similar to Osamu’s that it makes your heart skip a beat. “I can see why Osamu wants to see you, you’re so sweet.” Your face burns with your blush but Osamu’s mother doesn’t comment on it. “He’s in room 3D - if you run into anyone you can tell them Dr. Yamada gave you permission.”

You nod at her instructions. She gives you another smile and gently pats your shoulder before leaving you to grab food with her husband.

“Will you be okay?” Oikawa asks you quietly.

You don’t hesitate to answer. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” You smile and step away. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Good luck,” Oikawa calls as you walk away. You look over your shoulder and nod, before turning back to the elevators and making your way to the third floor.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: The story is wrapping up quite quickly! Quicker than I want! (Not that I'm upset about the direction we're going in!) Looks like the reader has a (much needed) conversation with Osamu coming up - fingers crossed it goes better than their last conversation!

Can't believe it but the final chapter and epilogue will be posted on Friday! Thank you all so much for reading the story so far, I truly cannot put into words how amazing you all are. I read every single comment and see every single kudo and it makes me so happy and grateful. 💖

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU (bold cannot be tagged): @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito @babucrow @beidouluvr @kozuken-ma @imarriedachef @badkarma-a @reina-de-tay @meianshugoswife @creepykawass

[shurisneakers]

shut in [7]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, broken bone, origami and paper planes

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!!! ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!! also gif is somewhat related except steve isn’t there sorry to crush any hopes

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Is there a reason you’re back so early?”

Both of the men nervously glanced at each other, silently urging the other to talk. A quiet form of encouragement.

“We chec- we checked all the neighbouring towns. All your safehouses,” one of them finally sputtered up after his partner elbowed him in the ribs.

“And?”

“We coordinated with all our guys across the country to look for them-”

“All I’m hearing are a bunch of excuses,” they twirled the gun on its barrel like it was a plaything. “Get to the point.”

“No one knows where they’re hiding,” he finished, swallowing thickly. “We’re still looking though. We just thought-”

“What?” their voice was surprisingly calm. “That your little status update would impress me? That I’d feel sorry for you for working so hard?”

“N-no boss,” his partner finally pitched in, saving face for his companion who opened and shut his mouth wordlessly. “Just keeping you in the loop. We’re close, I can feel-”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Both of them shut their mouths immediately. Knuckles white, nails digging into their skin as they clenched their fists shut.

“That you wanted them dead,” the first one said with faux confidence. A waver in his voice gave it away.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting the important part,” they tsk’ed, shaking their head, eyes downcast.

They didn’t give anyone a chance to react. They slammed the gun down, swiftly picking it up before taking aim at his partner’s face.

“I said I’d blow your brains out.” They pulled the trigger.

Bits of bone fragment and blood splattered across the first agent’s face. He inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling haphazardly. He had his eyes shut tightly, face away from the carcass slumped over next to him..

“I want every fucking part of this country searched,” they roared, throwing the gun to the side carelessly, leaving someone else to scurry after it. “And since it’s so fucking hard for you to finish two tasks, just get me their location.”

The agent barely nodded, looking like he was about to throw up. His partner’s blood trailed down the side of his face like sweat.

“I’ll kill them myself.”

Hugh Grant was starting to look less appealing on your 6th rewatch of Notting Hill. In fact, he was starting to blend together with the characters from Die Hard and it was becoming difficult to differentiate which part belonged to which movie.

Sam sat opposite to you at the dining table, a set of papers assigned in front of him. The TV was left on, serving as background noise and occasional fillers to substitute the lack of conversation.

“That movie is not making sense anymore,” he stated objectively.

“It stopped after the third time for me.” Your words were hushed, your focus remaining on the swan you were trying to create from scratch.

“If I hear her say ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy’ one more time, I actually think I’ll projectile vomit.” You could tell that his eyes didn’t shift from the screen though. “I can feel the bile. It’s going to happen.”

You only hummed in agreement, more interested in his lamenting than the actual movie.

Although origami wasn’t one of the skills you picked up in the fucking mafia, you still knew a few basic things. The rest you just folded with confidence and prayed it would work.

What other options did you have when you were stuck together in a house with no WiFi?

Sam had made a paper bowl to hold the car keys and the few dollars you picked up from Pierce’s place. It looked like it would fall apart at any given moment, its structural integrity questionable at best.

You had made a small flower that rested on the table in front of you. You were sure it would go missing the minute a draft entered the room.

He had given up after his contribution of the bowl. Apparently his creative expertise extended only towards that and paper airplanes, not that that stopped him. He was folding and manufacturing them with a vengeance.

“How is this supposed to help, Wilson?” you questioned, unable to contain the smile that grew on your face at the sheer number of planes he was making.

“Just because it’s not a decorative marvel-” he shot back in its defence, “-doesn’t mean it’s useless.”

“Oh, yeah? What else can it do other than not fly?” You watched as he launched one of them. It did a loop before falling miserably to the floor.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left. “Besides, your thing won’t even lift off the ground.”

“Yeah, but this one can float.” You held up the swan that you had created. That about concluded your knowledge of origami.

“That’s actually… pretty cool,” he admitted. “Teach me how to make one.”

“A true master never reveals their secrets,” you eluded, placing it on the table.

“I dare you to make another.” Sneaky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. He saw you struggle the first time.

“Why, so you can just copy off of me?” you dodged, and Sam narrowed his eyes at you. You followed the same.

Neither of you blinked for a while.

“I’m out of paper,” he finally relented, gesturing to the fleet of planes that littered the table.

“I’m out of ideas.” You paused, looking down at how you’d spent the last hour. “Do you wanna go test these outside later?”

Sam looked up eagerly and you could just tell he was intending on getting competitive. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m going for a run in some time.” You got up to stretch your limbs, shrug off the fatigue that was setting in. Along the way you left the swan and one of the paper planes on top of the mini fridge alongside the car keys. It was cute. “We could do it then?”

“Sure,” he affirmed. “What time?”

“At around 6-” your eyes landed on the clock on the wall before widening, “-shit, shit, shit, I didn't realise it was five thirty. We have a call with Ransone.”

“Phone’s on the couch,” he mentioned to the living room, sitting up straight. “Why are you freaking out? We still got a few minutes to go.”

You pushed yourself away from the table, forcing yourself to shakie off the drowsiness that had begun to set in.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you mumbled, “He gets pissy if I don’t do things his way.”

You grabbed the phone, punching in the buttons and having it at the ready.

You noticed Sam focused on you with knitted eyebrows but not voicing whatever he had on his mind.

“Ready?” you questioned, but more as a formality. You had to do it regardless.

He simply nodded, looking on as you let the phone ring. If he had noticed your antsiness towards the call, he didn’t bring it up.

Ransone picked up on the last ring, not skipping a beat in answering, “Y/N.”

“Hey Ransone.” You switched the call to speakerphone.

“Are you alone?”

You glanced at Sam. He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, edging you to continue with the arrangement you had planned the day prior.

Ransone trusted you more. He was more likely to communicate openly if Sam wasn’t around.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Where’s the other one?”

Sam silently scoffed.

“He’s taking a nap.”

“Ah,” Ransone’s tone was condescending. “How have things been?”

“It’s fine.” You press your lips into a straight line, not elucidating. “What’s the update out there?”

“Everything is a mess. We’re trying to figure out who attacked you but since there wasn’t anything left behind or any kind of trace, it’s proving to be... inconvenient.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“What, with your face on national television?” he laughed. “Nah, I’d say it’s a little too early to be thinkin’ of a road trip. Just stay where you are, I’ll tell you when you can come out.”

Your fingers were thrumming at the table rhythmically, peeking at Sam every now and then for anything he found suspicious or wanted you to ask about.

“Listen, we’ve paid off every big guy to keep this under wraps as much as possible but Pierce was an important person. All the higher ups want this to be solved as quickly as possible. They don’t care about sacrificing a player here or there.”

Pinning the blame on you was easy enough. The faster you were put away, the faster they could stage an “accident” in prison so that none of their secrets were exposed. Wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before.

“Others in the business aren’t likin’ us accusing them of attacking one of our own. Our best bet right now is Serpentine but we haven’t gotten anything to prove it.”

You doubted they ever would. Even if they did do it, Serpentine was notorious for being cunning and stealthy in their operations. They made sure there would be no tracks leading back to them.

“So, we’re at a dead-end,” you verified. There was no telling when this would end, your exit looking further and further away. “We’re fucked.”

“No. We’ll just- Y/N, listen to me,” Ransone called out, drawing your attention back to the call.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always protected you,” his voice was noticeably softer. “Don’t you trust me?”

You felt the temperature in the room drop.

“You said there would be no one there!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ransone scoffed. “I never said that.”

“I walk in there and there’s four people, completely armed.” Forcing yourself to recall it was making your head spin. Maybe you could ask the nurse for a painkiller. “It was supposed to be empty.”

“I think the blood loss is making you delirious,” he chided, looking at the bag of drips hanging above your bed. “It wasn’t even that bad-”

“You’re lying.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think it over.

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head, tone suddenly sifting to that of warning.

You knew he was. You had agreed to this mission because it was supposed to be easy. It was a break.

“Ivan was there when you briefed me.” You lifted your good arm to point at him shakily. “He knows you’re lying.”

“Does he now?” Ransone quirked an eyebrow, studying his aid who stood in the corner of the dingy hospital room.

A beat of silence passed where Ransone stared at Ivan, waiting for a reply of confirmation.

Ivan only lifted his shoulders in unawareness. “I don’t remember you sayin’ that.”

Your mouth fell agape but you quickly rushed to shut it. Fucking liars. You shouldn’t have expected anything better.

“Told you.” Ransone shrugged. “You’re a smart one, Y/N, so I’m going to let that slide this time. But next time you accuse me of something I didn’t say…”

He trailed off, resting a hand on your broken shoulder. You flinched, jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might break. You tried to imagine yourself somewhere else, desperate to reduce the quivering of your body when he squeezed it lightly.

“You know I’ve always tried to protect you.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your head to meet his eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

A beat passed before you responded.

“I do,” you said through gritted teeth, pulling your face away from him.

“I’ll ask them to up your dosage.” Ransone took a step away from you, dropping his hand. “I’m going to need my best player on the field as soon as possible.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement. Every part of your body felt like it was going to combust.

Did he really say that no one was going to be there or was it just the injuries playing with you?

“Get well soon,” he offered, one step out the door. “Buttercup.”

“You trust me, don’t you Y/N?” he repeated when you didn’t respond.

“Yes.” You swallowed, gaze falling to the floor.

“And I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to break that, would you?”

Sam raised his one hand questioningly as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. An intimidation tactic. He had been using it for several years to reinforce your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t.”

There were things you weren’t telling him, of course. Details about that day or where you and Sam were hiding right off the top of your head. More if you thought about it deeply.

“Good,” came his response. “So if there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m always a call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you soon.” He ended the call there.

You stood there blankly for a while before dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it. Usually you wouldn’t have to do that; removing the battery would be enough. This time you wanted to.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. You loathed him. Yet, you couldn’t fucking leave. 

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped back to Sam. “We still going on that run?”

__

The wind felt good.

Your muscles were burning and you could feel the constriction of your lungs but you liked it. The endorphins were working their charm.

Sam was right beside you, not questioning why there was so much aggression in your movement. You had lost track of how long you had been running. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that.

The path was paved with fallen branches and roots sticking out, forcing you to hop over some of them to avoid falling. It only annoyed you further.

You wanted to punch something. Or someone. The tension was rolling off your back in waves, and if someone saw you the’d probably believe you were going to commit an act of violence.

It was a while before you felt your steps begin to falter, the need for a proper breath taking precedence over the want to run more.

“Timeout?” you asked Sam breathlessly, slowing your pace to a jog.

“Sure about that, Usain Bolt?” he huffed, slowing his pace to match yours.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it. “T’was fun.”

Now that you had slowed down, it forced you to come to terms with how much energy you had just burnt out.

“You wanna talk about what’s on your mind or ignore it?”

“Rather not talk about it for now.” The more you thought about him, the angrier you got. And as of late, you had realised that your method of dealing with that anger wasn’t the best.

The air was getting colder. It was getting harder to see what was in front of you, relying on the few rays of sunlight that shone through the treetops. You took a roundabout at your self declared checkpoint, changing course back to the house.

Sam followed wordlessly, but his presence was strangely comforting. Warm.

“Thank you.”

“For...” he trailed off, prodding you on.

“I don’t know. This.” You gestured to the path ahead of you. “I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement.

You didn’t have an answer to that. Probably because you weren’t used to people just doing nice things for no apparent reason.

“How are you so calm all the time? I’ve never seen him get under your skin,” you asked quietly. “How do you do it?”

He didn’t answer straight away. He mulled over it as he dodged broken sticks and upended roots on the ground. You would be fine if he didn’t answer either; as long as he knew that you appreciated it.

“I just realised that everything he put into me was destructive. Actively worked on unlearning it,” he replied after a while. “It took me years to even begin.”

You expected to hear that but it didn’t make it easier.

“I don’t even know how to start,” you mumbled. It was so tiring, even thinking of where and how it began. It was all you knew. All you were taught.

“If I could add something?”

You looked at him questioningly.

“You had a different relationship with him than all of us, Y/N. A deeper one. It’s not easy to forget that,” he pointed out. “But… you’re not him. That takes strength.”

These weren’t new revelations. It was things you had told yourself earlier to rationalise all your actions. You knew it on a surface level but it was difficult to convince yourself sincerely.

You didn’t say anything, just continued jogging with an eye on the ground. 

It felt better to hear it from someone else. A starting point to maybe get to where he was, too.

“I just can’t believe anyone took him seriously enough for him to get this far,” Sam added, a tick of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t condone bullying but someone should have just punched him in the face as a child.”

It wasn’t even the funniest thing you had heard him say but for some reason it elicited a snort from you, soon giving way to a laugh.

His face snapped to yours at the sound of your laughter, a small smile growing on his face.

His brief moment of distraction was all it took for him to not notice the tree root sticking out in front of him. His ankle got caught in the wood, sending him stumbling to the ground face forward.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, halting in your place immediately, dropping to your knees to where he was.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, turning onto his back. “I think I broke my face.”

“That may be a bit excessive but your nose is definitely bleeding,” you knew this was serious but you were finding it difficult to control your laughter once you realised it wasn’t a life threatening injury.

“Just leave me here to die.” He covered his eyes with his elbow, refusing to look at you.

“C’mon, Wilson. Let’s get you fixed up.” You stood up, offering your hand. He grabbed onto it, hoisting himself up.  “Can you stand up straight? Do you think you have a concussion?”

“World class assassin,” he grumbled, shaking his head to imply he was fine other than a possible broken nose.

“Promise I won’t tell. Your reputation is safe,” you said it humorously but with conviction, hoping to make it less embarrassing for him. Not that you’d let him forget it any time soon.

It took longer to walk back considering how far you had ventured out, along with the fact that you had to guide him as he held his nose in the air to try and control the bleeding.

You pushed open the door to the house, holding it open as he walked in. Sam made his way to the dining room after you told him you’d get the first aid kit for the second time during your stay there.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, grabbing an old t-shirt along the way, he had a single ice cube pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You dropped the kit onto the table, opening the mini fridge. You emptied the ice cubes from the tray onto the t-shirt, twisting it into a small ice pack.

“These are my battle scars.” You could tell that he was trying not to use his nose. He sounded ridiculous. 

“Whatever makes you feel better, Sam,” you chortled. His mouth eased into a half smile and you didn’t get why until you realised it was the first time you had called him by his name. You didn’t acknowledge it, surprised by how easily it slipped out from your mouth when you weren’t actively stopping it.

You gave him a bit of cotton to wipe off the blood that had dried on his face.

“Look up,” you instructed, standing over him so you could assess the damage. He complied, letting you cradle his jaw softly, tilting his head to see if there were any signs of a fracture or anything worse.

It was a bad fall, but nothing he hadn’t been through before in terms of severeness. It wasn’t going to leave a mark.

“Definitely going to bruise but it’s not broken,” you concluded, going over it once more to make sure.

“Thanks, doc,” his voice came softly from below you. Only then did you realise how close you were standing to him. You could feel his breath on your wrist that was still caressing his face.

It felt like eternity, but he didn’t make an effort to move or shove you away. Your eyes flitted down to his lips for a second. If you just leaned dow-

“Right,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back. “Just hold this to your face for a while to reduce any swelling.”

You handed him the makeshift ice pack, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“Your turn to use the bed tonight, right?” His voice was significantly lower than what it had been a few minutes ago, something you weren’t acclimated to hearing. It only made your face feel hotter.

“Yeah.” You avoided meeting his eyes, using the time to close the first aid kid. “Unless you want it.”

“No, go ahead.”

It was too early to retire for the evening but suddenly you weren’t all that hungry anymore. Apparently neither was he.

“See you tomorrow, then?” you inquired, turning away before he could see you cringe.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, “Good night.”

You just gave him a short wave over your shoulder and physically restrained from walking to the room, shutting the door and never looking at him again. You hoped he didn’t notice or at least never bring it up if he did.

You couldn’t do this. Not again.

Not when you knew the consequences.

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