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#it just doesn’t come across like he was ever trying to fight back that hard
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Hey! Not sure if you do requests, sorry if you don’t! If you want to, could you do a story where a supervillain typically goes easy on a group of rookie heroes, as he usually fights them just for fun, and could destroy them if he wanted.
He just lets them think they can beat him.
Then, something happens (maybe they cross a line, and one of the heroes tries to stop their team from crossing that line but they don't listen) where the supervillain shows them just how powerful he actually is?:
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Hi there Annablogsposts! I do requests, I’m just typically really slow getting to them, lol. I’d love to write this for you! Thanks for requesting this, here you go!
Hero entered the meeting room, where Leader and the rest of their team were already talking.
“So we’re in agreement, then?” Leader asked.
Teammate One nodded.
“If we take Henchman, we can interrogate them and learn more about Supervillain’s plans than we ever could through just reconnaissance.”
“Woah woah woah,” Hero said, “are we talking kidnapping?”
“Uh, yeah?” Teammate Two said, quirking an eyebrow.
Hero shifted their weight from one foot to the other.
“But isn’t kidnapping, I don’t know, wrong? I mean, Henchman doesn’t even have powers- they’re not even in the field most of the time. Why would we-”
Leader folded their arms across their chest.
“Hero, do you want to stop Supervillain or not? Desperate times call for desperate measures. Now, Teammate One is going to be look-out, while you-”
“No,” Hero said.
Leader blinked.
“No?”
“No,” Hero repeated, “I’m sorry, but I can’t be a part of something that goes against my morals, not to mention what we stand for. None of us should even be talking about this, let alone actually going through with it!”
Hero didn’t wait for Leader’s response. They turned and left the meeting room, only stopping when they got back to their own room.
Hero jolted awake, stirred by the sounds of a struggle. They checked the clock. Three in the morning. Their team must have gone through with it after all.
Hero crept into the room that had been set up as a holding cell. They peeked in and saw Henchman, battered and bloody, breathing hard. Hero’s eyes widened. Their own team did this!?
Hero unlocked the door and knelt by the criminal. Their eyes were glassy and dilated. Drugged. It wasn’t even a fair fight.
“I’m gonna help you,” Hero whispered.
“Hero?” Henchman croaked dazedly.
Hero had already left, bolting to the med bay to get supplies. They rushed back into the cell and got to work.
“This is more Teammate Two’s thing, but I’m gonna try my best,” Hero said quietly.
The room was silent, save for the occasional whimper from Henchman. When Hero finished, they had stitched up the deeper wounds and bandaged the more shallow ones.
Hero opened their mouth to ask a question when the far wall exploded into tiny bits. Supervillain stood there, a dark look on their face.
“Henchman?” Supervillain called.
“In here!” Henchman slurred.
Supervillain rushed to their right hand’s side.
“Who did it? One of them, or all of them?” Supervillain asked.
“A-all but this one,” Henchman said, nodding to Hero.
Supervillain looked up at Hero. Their eyes drifted to the medical supplies, and Hero’s bloodied hands.
“Not one for breaking the rules, hm?” Supervillain asked.
Hero sat frozen in shock. Supervillain had never been able to take out a wall like that before. Supervillain had always had minimal powers. How did they do this?
“Hero, wait for me outside,” Supervillain said, “and take Henchman with you.”
Hero opened their mouth, but no sound came out.
“Come on,” Henchman said, struggling to get up.
That spurred Hero into action. They helped Henchman up, and took them outside, stepping over bits of rubble and letting Henchman put their weight on them for support.
Hero turned.
“What are you gonna do?” they asked timidly.
Supervillain adjusted their gloves, their fingers curling into fists.
“What I should have done a long time ago.”
Hero waited outside until they heard the screaming. Those were their team’s voices. They laid Henchman down, leaning them up against a tree.
“I need to go help them,” Hero said, “stay here.”
“Thought you’d say that,” Henchman grunted, pulling something from a concealed pocket in their boot.
Hero barely had time to question what it was before the object was slammed into their thigh.
“Sorry, kid,” Henchman said, “but you don’t need to get hurt on account of them.”
Hero’s world spun. They stumbled, falling to the ground right next to Henchman. Henchman positioned them against their chest, so they’d be more comfortable. Hero drifted off a moment later.
Supervillain dusted themselves off, stepping over the mess of unconscious bodies strewn about the room. They approached Henchman, taking note of Hero, fast asleep.
“They tried to run in?” Supervillain asked knowingly.
Henchman shrugged, nodding.
“Poor thing,” Supervillain sighed, “we’ll sort them out. They deserve better.”
Supervillain picked both Henchman and Hero up with ease, as though they were little more than a few feathers. They flew off, back to their base. The rest of the team would wake up so see themselves and their compound in shambles. Hero, on the other hand, would wake up in a lavish bedroom. It pays to not anger the most powerful Supervillain in the world.
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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog
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reduxulousoctopus · 2 days
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X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).
I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.
Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.
--
“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.
Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”
No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.
Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.
When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”
Morph winces.
“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”
“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”
From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”
“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”
“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”
“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”
The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”
“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”
To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.
Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.
Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.
How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?
Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.
“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.
He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.
“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”
Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.
“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”
Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”
“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”
That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.
“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”
Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.
“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”
The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.
“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”
Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”
“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”
“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.
“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”
“Who else knows?”
“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”
At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.
“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.
Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.
“I didn’t want you to know.”
Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.
“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”
He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.
Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.
“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”
Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.
He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.
Badum-tch.
Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.
Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.
Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?
“Morph. Look at me.”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.
“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”
From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.
It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.
Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.
One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.
The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?
Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.
Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.
If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.
Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.
The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.
But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.
He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”
As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.
“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”
Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…
He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.
That’s real enough for him.
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ickypuppi3 · 2 years
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there really is something so interesting about billy never actually landing a punch during the fight at the byers until he’s cornered
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zephyrchama · 27 days
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Mammon stares down at his youngest brother snoozing away on your lap. Belphegor has made himself at home with your thigh as a makeshift pillow. It’s far from the first time this has happened, and very unlikely to be the last. Any more, he just walks over and does it, falling asleep within moments without even asking. He’ll wake up if you try to stand. As long as you can still study, read, or scroll your D.D.D., it’s usually not too bothersome and easier to let Belphegor do what he wants.
The scowl on Mammon’s face says otherwise. “Ya really gonna let him walk, err, sleep all over you like that? How many time’s he done that this week?” He tisks and stomps his foot, looming over you with crossed arms. “Belphie, wake your ass up! Yer big bro has a bone to pick with you!”
You feel a warm exhalation on your leg. Belphegor seems to be sighing, but doesn’t bother opening his eyes or acknowledging Mammon in any other way, much to the elder’s chagrin.
“Push him off!” Mammon insists.
“I’m flattered you think I’m strong enough to push a full grown demon off of me,” you admit, lightly ruffling Belphegor’s hair. “But, no. I’m not.”
“Don’t encourage ‘im!” Mammon grabs Belphegor by the collar.
At this provocation, the youngest curls an arm under your thigh and nudges his nose into the fabric of your clothes. He refuses to budge. “They don’t mind it, so just leave us alone.” Belphegor’s muffled voice sounds tired and annoyed.
“Belphie, let go! Ugh, use your pact!” Mammon literally growls. “Don’t coddle this jerk, you spoil him too much!”
“Don’t yell at me about it! I’m just sitting here!” you pout. ”And Belphie, watch where you’re grabbing.” It’s not your fault these guys go crazy over you. “Pact orders are painful for you guys, yeah? I don’t want to go through all that trouble. I’m still learning how to control the magic and it’s not worth it right now.”
“Hah? You kiddin’ me?” Mammon taps his foot and gnashes his teeth as Belphegor gives him the cold shoulder. “Fine then. Be that way.”
He goes to walk away, but abruptly turns back and returns. It’s evident when Mammon gets a new idea into his head. You can practically see the light bulb pop up over his head as he dons a cheeky grin.
“Spread your legs for me,” he demands.
“What?” Now you’re staring at him, disbelief etched into your features. You knew Mammon had the occasional lewd thought but even for him this was brazen. Maybe his brothers are right and he’s finally lost it.
“Spread your legs for the Great Mammon! C’mon!”
Belphegor snorts and turns his head ever so slightly, just enough to give his dumb older brother the evil eye. Mammon is tired of waiting and seizes his chance to yank your knees apart. By your own admission, you can’t fight the strength of a full grown demon.
“You’ve got two legs, there’s plenty a room for two demons here.” There isn’t exactly much space, but Mammon lays his head back on your thigh and grins up at you, bumping his noggin against Belphegor in the process.
Ah. You realize this was his goal and Mammon was just being too stubborn to come out and say it.
Your face grew hot. It felt weird to manspread with two doting demons on your legs. “You really could have phrased that better.”
“Whatddya mean?”
You sigh. “Think about it.”
Belphegor exhales again, probably laughing under his breath this time as he re-adjusts his arm to a cozier position.
Mammon is content just to admire you from below until he connects the dots, and a deep red blush spreads across his face. He turns, winding his arms around your back to better hide his face in the folds of your shirt.
He closes his eyes against you, his nose brushing against your side. “I don’ wanna think ‘bout anything. I work too hard, just lemme rest here a while.”
You allow it, ruffling his hair knowing full well you coddle both of them too much.
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lovelytsunoda · 9 months
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i want candy // lando norris
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summary: two podiums in a row for her lover boy. it’s time to celebrate.
pairing: lando norris x female reader
warnings: pure smut, but also giggly and kind of giddy.
“I mean, I stopped counting max’s wins like three races ago so in my books, you’re the big winner.” she laughs, settling across from him on the bed.
“if only the fia saw it that way.” lando laughed, clinking his glass against hers before tilting the champagne to his lips. “but two p2s in a row isn’t too bad, is it?”
“I’m proud of you, lando norris.”
lando smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly. “I’m glad you’re here.”
they crossed their arms over each others, chugging back their glasses. landos thumb rested on her upper thigh, near the hem of her tennis dress as he rubbed gentle circles on her skin. he leaned in, growling playfully as he sucked a hickey onto her neck.
“lando!” she giggled, jumping slightly at the contact against her sensitive skin, dropping the glass and frowning as the champagne worked its way across her skin, dripping onto the hotel bedspread.
“sorry, love.” he laughs, leaning down to lick up the champagne on her thigh.
she moans at the contact, placing the now empty glass on her nightstand before she leans back against the pillows, going up her skirt as lando sucks and kicks his way up her thigh, leaving hickeys and the stick of alcohol in his wake.
“come claim your prize, podium sitter:” she laughs, opening her thighs wider to expose the glittery orange panties she’s wearing. “it’s all for you, pretty boy.”
lando bites his bottom lip, hungry hands reaching to pull down her soaked panties, trying his best not to tear them.”
“lando..” she whined “you’re going too slowly.”
lando giggled, nuzzling his face into her thigh with a kiss. “I forgot how needy champagne makes you.”
“oh fuck off.” she laughs, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “please, lando.”
the driver crept his way up her thigh, blowing cool air over her clit, relishing in watching her drip onto the bedsheets. he leaned in and kissed her sopping core softly, gently teasing her with his tongue.
“you taste just like candy, love. and I want more.”
he kissed her again with even more intensity, slipping his tongue inside of her as she let out a hearty moan, arching her back from the bed before landos large hands pressed her back towards the mattress.
“lando!” she whined “fuck, god, please keep doing that.”
he grinned, witching his focus higher to suck her clit, sneaking a few fingers inside her while he was distracted. she moaned heartily, thighs threatening to close around his head as he rapidly plunged his fingers in and out of her opening, appendages covered in evidence of her arousal.
“try and keep your thighs open, baby. be a good girl for me.” lando cooed, pinching her clit with his free hand.
she screamed his name, bucking against his fingers and fighting the urge to touch her hard nipples underneath her dress. she settled for clutching the sheets, fingers becoming stiff from how hard she clutches the pristine white fabric.
it still astounded her how quickly lando could reduce her to this babbling moaning mess. she doesn’t beg, ever, but somehow lando could get her chanting ‘please’ like it was the only word in the dictionary, like it was a prayer for salvation.
“I can feel you clenching around my fingers, pretty girl.” lando chuckled, picking up the pace he was scissoring his fingers at, changing up the rhythm for better sensations, ones he knew would push her over the edge. “is my good girl going to come for me? come on my fingers, love, don’t be scared. soak my fingers in your come.”
“oh god!” she whines, things finally closing in around her lover as he uses his thumb to draw desperate circles on her clit, her fingers pulling on his curls, a growl leaving his throat. “lando, I’m gonna-“
“that’s it, pretty one. come for me. come, come. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”
“yes, god, lando, only you.” she babbled, unable to say much else as she came, walls contracting around landos fingers. “only you.”
he pulled his fingers out, slipping them into his mouth and sucking her juices off them. her eyes rolled back at the sight as lando positioned himself above her, a noticeable tent in his trousers.
“now look what you’ve done, pretty girl.” he chuckled, kissing her softly, allowing her to pull him into his arms. “I think you should take that dress off and let me unwrap the rest of my prize, because there’s no way in hell I’m done with you yet.”
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @scuderiasundays @lorarri @oconso @silverstonesainz @userlando @httpiastri
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yveaart · 2 months
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“you know other girls?” — w seventeen hhu !
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🍒cheol
“don’t you think she’s holding onto your arm to close?”
you would fight all your jealous title allegations but u simply cant beat them
“aren’t you the most darling girlfriend ever? so possessive over me love.” he said delivered it with a wide grin.
“whatever” you snorted folding your hands at your chest
“you’re the most jealous woman i’ve ever met babe” he giggle at your form.
oops that was big mistake there. he got u turning your head slowly as your feline glare reaches his physique
“you know other women?” you said in a tamed voice
he knelt beside you showing his starry eyes
“BABE I SWEAR I ONLY KNOW MY MOM!”
🍒mingyu
maybe this one?
mingyu was pointing to some night gown you wanted to buy
it wasn’t hard to get him in, because he would go anywhere if that’s where you were
you had a hard time pushing through the store with multiple ladies and sales women gawking at your boyfriend
we’re they uncomfortable with you bringing him to such store?
that was until a random sales lady got up to your lovely boyfriend and showed him pairs of lingeries, and it seemed like it wasn’t concerning you— the actual customer of the store.
“maybe buy it for me?” the lady gazed at your boyfriend with doe eyes
good to say that your boyfriend snorted so loud that the lady had to back up into the dressing rooms to look for her pride.
“i cant believe she said that to me baby, didn’t she see the gorgeous gorgeous woman beside me?” he smiled at you
you got jealous because who did she think she was to try and take him away from you?
you took his arm and put it around your hip and the other one holding your hand
it was extensive due to the fact that he was bending over u because his tall frame had to encase your smaller one.
“aww love you’re the most jealous woman i know”
“you know other women?” you slowed down in your tracks
“i-uhm WOOF” he took everything you were holding including your bag and carried it as he spent the rest of your time following you around and serving you
and in your mind you knew that you were totally messing with him, because you already lost the doubt the moment he snorted at the sales lady. but he doesn’t have to know that.
🍒vernon
you were walking out of the dance studio picking your boyfriend up for your dinner date
a woman waved at him and he waved back
you walked faster and he noticed that, he started giggling
“you’re the most jealous woman i know” he smiled
“you know other women?” you scowled at him
“i literally have a sister.” he said with a blank expression
“- and a mom, and an aunt, and my grandma”
🍒wonwoo
your boyfriend was playing games on his computer all day since it was his day off
you didn’t mind just the fact you could hear a woman’s voice leaking from his headphones speaking a little too obnoxiously
“who are you talking to?” you asked
you came closer scanning through the players only seeing his other friends
“are you hiding your side chick from me right now ?!” you gasped dramatically
“i literally go straight from work to our house and decay here while i play games love” he said calmly while staring across the screen aggressively clicking through his keyboard
“oh, yeah thats true” it truly did convince you as you started to walk away
“and that was literally seokmin mimicking his character trying to provoke me” he said laughing a bit
“the thing is though… i always win” he smiled as he removed his headphones coming to you for a cuddle
“nobody can provoke me or our relationship” he smiled
you knew that this type of thing is rare so you savored every bit of your clingy bf
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757 notes · View notes
imtryingbuck · 3 months
Text
Eighteen
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.
Word count: 5,786
Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names. eating humans (doesn’t happen obviously and it’s only said as a joke) mentions of cheating, mentions of past suicide attempt
A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.
Masterlist   Series Masterlist
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It had been three years since she was last at home, three years at private school and it was amazing for her. 
She made friends with two of the girls there Natasha and Wanda, they had introduced themselves to her first and Wanda shyly had asked if Y/n would like to be their friend, she hesitated at first but eventually said yes which brought a huge smile to Wanda’s face and a shy smile to Nat’s.
They accepted her with open arms and Nat even enjoyed playing in the mud and climbing trees with Y/n. When that fateful day came where they saw her scars she panicked and knew that they wouldn’t want to be her friends anymore but instead of judgemental or looks of horror Wanda burst out crying and pulled her in to a bone crushing hug whilst Nat stood there cursing in Russian. For the first time since James she opened up to what had happened to her.
Not even Steve knew the whole story, especially not Sam. Sam had heard things but chose not to listen; he chose to wait until she had said something herself.
Once she had finished telling them everything she was comforting the two red heads reminding them that she was okay now.
It had felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and for the first time she felt like she could breathe.
If you saw one of the girls the other two was close behind.
Throughout the three years that had passed she had heard about Bucky, Sam and Steve from her parents. The boys had showed up a few days after she had left so James could apologise and when they found out she had gone James started to cry, Steve and Sam too. When she heard about that she wanted to go back home to make up with her boys fighting with herself on whether or not she should but ultimately she decided that she wasn’t going anywhere. James had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t her friend and that he never wanted to be in the first place.
It was a hard decision for her to make but luckily she had Nat and Wanda by her side supporting her.
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Now that school was over she was heading back home, she had decided she didn’t want to go to college and after a bit of back and forth with her parents - especially her mom - they agreed to let her do what she wanted to do.
“We’ll see each other in a month Wands don’t cry” she says hugging Wanda who was in fact balling her eyes out.
“A month is so long away an-and what will I do if I’ve forgotten your face or-or your voice?” Ever so dramatically Wanda cried.
“Really? Really Wands it’s four weeks you’re not going to forget anything about me and if you do I’ll have to punch you in the arm”
“Please don’t, but you’re right. I’ll just have to go on living without you my friend, go go leave and don’t look back, I don’t think my heart could take it” Wanda says bringing one hand across her face and the other clutching her chest.
Y/n looks at Nat who stands there with one eyebrow raised “this…this is our best friend”
“I know. Wand why do you have to be so dramatic all the time?”
“Hey I’m not dramatic I’m traumatised!”
Nat and Y/n burst out laughing, shaking their heads at the red head. “Traumatised? Wanda I love you but you my friend are so dramatic”
“I’m trying to be…emotional and romantic well not romantic because even though I love you Y/n I have to admit baby girl you’re not my type”
“Don’t say that-“ Nat says quickly but gets cut off.
“I-I’m not y-your type? H-how dare you!”
“Great just great, look everyone these two weirdo’s are my best friends!” Nat shouts pointing at her friends.
“I have to be honest with myself Y/n/n okay, I can’t keep lying to you it-it’s not fair, I’m sorry” Wanda says in a wobbly voice.
“No, no I understand. I’m just not good enough for you and that’s the truth! Don’t keep lying to yourself Wanda!”
“Guys please stop…” Nat butts in.
“Great you’ve upset our daughter!” Wanda shouts throwing her hands in the air.
“Me? Me? Well guess Wanda she might not even be yours! That’s right I cheated on you with your father!”
“W-what? H-how could you? I loved you”
“But you don’t love me anymore now the truth can be out there!”
“To be fair Wanda could possibly be my dad because we both have red hair…”
“She gets her attitude from you Y/n, how could you do this to us?”
“Us? You’re the one that literally just said I wasn’t your type!”
“Guys please, I don’t want to come from a broken home”
“Oh Natty come here sweetie me and your maybe father was just playing” Y/n says opening her arms for Nat to shuffle into. Wanda then wraps her arms around the pair.
“Well ladies that was a very moving performance if I do say so myself but it’s time for you to break it up and leave” Mr Walters says from the steps leading up to the school.
“Right, sorry sir. Emotional day” Y/n speaks first.
“A lot of truth came out sir, we needed it” Wanda then says.
“Wanda might not be my father sir, I’m so depressed” Nat shrugs.
“I’m…I’m actually traumatised because of you three. Thanks for that.”
“Rude. Well goodbye sir, thanks for being the best teacher ever!” Y/n waves.
“Bye ladies, good luck with everything” he says walking back in to the school, he had to admit that he was going to miss seeing the trio and miss their antics.
“You’re such a teacher’s pet” Nat laughed.
“It’s called respect madam, something you clearly don’t have for your mother!”
“Y/n, baby it’s time to go” Maria interrupts whatever Nat was going to say.
“Coming. Well ladies I guess this is it, it’s been a pleasure knowing you but this is where the curtains close, I bid you adieu.” Y/n bows.
“And I’m called dramatic” rolling her eyes Wanda bows too.
“Alright guess I’ve got to do the same” Nat follows along.
“But no in all seriousness I’m so glad I met you and I’m forever grateful to the pair of you”
“Always Y/n you know this, we’ll always be friends no matter what and we’ll see each other next month” Nat said as she pulls Y/n into a hug.
“I love you both” Wanda says wrapping her arms around her friends.
Pulling away they all smile at each other.
“Last one to their parents cars are a rotten egg in 3…2…1” 
They take off running to their parents; Y/n first, Nat second and Wanda third.
“No fair! You guys know I’m terrible at running!” Wanda shouts from her parents’ car.
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The drive home was filled with conversations, laughter and catching up. It had been six months since they had seen her in that six months she looked more grown up, more sure of herself, happier.
Maria couldn’t help but smile as her daughter rambled on about what her and her friends had been getting up to. Amazed by how she looked so much like her mama, Maria made it her sole mission to make sure Y/n got a few photographs of her and her mama from the hell hole of a house she grew up in. Maria had kept one for herself it was a photo of Y/n who was roughly three or four years old with her arms wrapped around her mamas neck who had a baby Y/n in her arms as they stood outside a cabin, both smiling widely as the camera captured a beautiful moment between mother and daughter.
It was only after seeing that photograph that Maria understood where Y/n had gotten her crazy unruly hair from, Maria knew that Y/n was blessed to have taken her looks and traits from such a beautiful woman.
Y/n didn’t know that her momma would go to her mamas grave and put fresh flowers down every weekend or how she would sit on the hard ground and speak to the woman she never met before and talk for hours telling her how their daughter was growing, how she was cheeky and caring, how smart she was. Or how just before she would leave the grave where her birth mom laid Maria would place a kiss to her fingers and place them on the headstone and say “thank you my friend” because yes even though she had never met the woman and that she was no longer alive she had become Maria’s friend, and every time she thanked the woman it was for giving her a wonderful gift, Y/n.
“-mom? Momma are you even listening?” Y/n says.
“Oh, sorry darling yes I’m listening”
“No you weren’t but it’s okay I was just saying that Nat had found a rat in her bag and she screamed so loudly it nearly burst my eardrums”
“To be truthful I would have done the same thing” Maria chuckles.
“I know! I had to calm it down because it had gotten scared, I mean well so would I if I had Nat screaming and trying to hit me with a bag” Y/n giggles.
Shaking her head she was so happy that Y/n had Nat and Wanda as friends, they treat her good and were really amazing friends to her daughter. When she met the two red heads she was taken back by watching their dynamic and how well Y/n fit in so perfectly.
“Natasha’s reaction was perfectly justifiable” she points out.
“That’s true but she could have calmed down, I was there and we all know I’m great at talking to animals and calming them down” she smirks.
“Very true angel, listen…please don’t be mad-“
“No…dad you both promised!”
“It wasn’t our idea angel but George’s and Winnie’s, darling they’ve missed you-“
“A party dad? I suck at those things”
“It’s not a party but more like a get together-“
“So a party. Uncle George and Aunt Winnie don’t do “get togethers” dad and you know that”
“Well it’s happening and you’re going to enjoy it, you’re going to smile and have a good time and you’ll thank George and Winnie afterwards” Howard speaks.
“Yes Master”
“Good boy”
“Treat?”
“Not yet”
“Do you want me to give you my paw?”
“Mar our dog talks way too much, I told you we should have gone with a German shepherd and not a Chihuahua”
“Oi I’m not a Chihuahua! If I had to be a dog I probably would be basset hound…”
“Why?”
“They’re so cute and lazy and small”
Howard lets out a booming laugh as he nods, Y/n joins in whilst Maria looks at the driver who’s trying not to laugh “would you be a dear and crash the car for me please?”
“No don’t, I can’t get a treat if I’m dead” Y/n laughs out causing Howard to laugh even louder.
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“‘A get together’ yeah alright dad! It’s like the whole world is here” she scoffs.
“Don’t be so dramatic, come on and don’t forget to smile”
Half of the people who had showed up she didn’t even know and the ones she did were either nice to her or people who helped to torment her but doing as her father said she smiled at everyone, saying her thanks when people congratulated her for graduating school.
“My sweetie!” Winnie’s loud voice came from across the garden, Y/n watched at the woman who she’s missed dearly nearly runs over to her.
“Miss Winnie, I’ve missed you!” She wraps her arms around her third mother figure.
“I’ve missed you too my sweet baby, oh look at you! All so grown up and so bloody beautiful, where’s that’s little girl who broke my heart all them years ago gone?”
“I killed her and buried her in the backyard but don’t tell my momma or dada that” she giggled.
“I won’t don’t worry your secrets safe with me” Winnie winked.
“Is-is that…no I don’t believe my eyes. It’s my darling girl!” George shouts ignoring all the looks that get thrown his way as he makes his way over to Y/n and Winnie.
“Hi Mr George”
“Oh my, you’re as beautiful as ever!” He picks her up and spins her around just as he did when she was little “oof and your heavier”
“George!” Winnie scolds.
“What have they been feeding you at that school hey missy?” He asks completely ignoring his wife.
“Humans from all over the world” she winks with a shoulder shrug.
“Are they nice? I’ve been thinking of getting into eating humans” 
“Honestly? I recommend that you should, tasty” she laughs, George and Winnie joining in.
“On a serious note though, I’ve missed you darling and I’m so proud of you. And please remember I love you, you’ve always been our daughter too. Oh God I’m so fucking proud of you” George says with tears in his eyes as he remembers the first day he met her, how small and scruffy she was, how scared she look. After what that monster did to her he was scared that she wasn’t going to survive. It’s true though, he and Winnie saw her as their daughter before Howard and Maria adopted her.
“I love you both too and I will forever be indebted to you both”
“Nonsense silly girl” Winnie says.
“Are you trying to steal my daughter away?” Howard laughs as he walks over.
“Obviously, the plan is to knock you and Maria out and I’m going to kidnap this one” George says.
Howard laughs which has George turning to Y/n “he thinks I’m joking, but I’m not”
“Don’t wind him up” she laughs.
She’s oblivious to the conversation that’s happening on the other side of the garden as she laughs with her parents and surrogate parents.
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“My sweetie!” He hears his mother call out and he knows instantly that Y/n has arrived as he looks in the direction his mother is making her way over to his breath gets caught in his throat.
His Bunny.
His Bunny all grown up.
His Bunny all grown up and looking just as beautiful as she looked the last time he saw her.
There hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by where he hadn’t regretted this shit that spewed out of his mouth that day. When he found out that she had left it felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on a million times.
Of course he was never friends with her out of pity, she was easy to talk to, she made him laugh, she was his best friend, his person.
His soulmate as Winnie would say.
But every day he reminded himself that he only had himself to blame.
“I-is that…” Steve questioned with his eyes trained on his best friend who he hasn’t seen in three years.
“Bunny” Bucky nods.
“Holy shit she’s gorgeous” Sam says.
“Yeah she is” Bucky agrees.
“When are you going to talk to her?” Steve asks.
“I’m not. She’s not going to want to talk to me, not after what I said the last time we saw each other”
“That was three years ago Buck, it’s Y/n she’s no doubt forgiven you”
“I doubt it. Steve you have no idea how sad she looked man”
“Bro just go and talk to her” Sam says taking a sip of his beer.
“I-I can’t, are you two going to talk to her?”
“Yeah…well I was going to wait for her reaction with you first before making my way over to her” Steve admits.
“Same if she hits you then I’m staying away but if she doesn’t then yeah of course I’ll talk to her”
“Cheers” Bucky grumbles his eyes refusing to move away from her.
They all watch as she laughs with her parents and Bucky’s, they don’t stop the smile from forming onto their lips as they watch their best friend.
They all carried their own guilt from three years ago and all silently hope that she forgives them for what happened.
“Buck go and talk to her” Steve tries to encourage his friend mainly so he could then talk to her.
“Yeah…yeah I’m going to do it” he puts his drink down on the table before straightening his shirt out.
Just as he was about to take that first step closer to his Bunny he stutters when he sees a tall bulky guy with blonde hair walk up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, watching as she squeals turning around in the guys hold.
He watches as she places her hands on either side of his face and places her lips to his.
He’s pretty certain that he hears his heart breaking.
“Buck…”
“Huh? Yeah?”
“A-are you alright?”
“I’m fine, so she’s got a boyfriend that’s cool” he turns to pick his drink back up and downs it in one gulp. “Do-do you think she’s happy?”
Steve and Sam share a look before answering. “We’re not sure pal”
“I hope she is, t-that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.”
They continue to watch as Y/n introduces the guy to Bucky’s parents and they can tell instantly that Winnie’s smile is fake, she’s always been the one rooting for Y/n and James to get together. The smile on Y/n’s face is as big as it ever was as she stares up at the guy.
“How do you think they met?” Bucky asks.
“God knows, but as long as he treats her right that’s all that matters really.” Sam says eyeing Bucky cautiously.
“I hope so”
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As the party winds down the boys not barely moving apart from Sam as he raids the table with all the food on it. They watch as the blonde guy leaves, not without having a make out session with Y/n.
As the guests start leaving Bucky’s quick to notice that Y/n is no longer around and when George stumbles over to the boys he finds out that Y/n’s disappeared and wonders if they had seen her, they all shake their heads.
“I think I might know where she is, hold on”
He makes his way down to the bottom of the garden and climbs over the fence, really hoping he was right.
“Bunny” he whispers when he sees her sitting on the ground in the spot they claimed as theirs, the same spot he first laid eyes on her when he was just seven years old.
“Hi James” she whispers back keeping her back to him.
“C-can I sit next to you?”
“Sure”
For the first time since the two have known each other they sit side by side in uncomfortable silence. It pains the both of them that this is how it’s come down to this.
But unfortunately it had.
“So-um-how are you?” Bucky asked as he stumbled over his words.
“I’m good, what about you?”
“Good, that’s good. I-I’ve missed you Bunny” he admits, his heart squeezing when he sees her flinching.
“Oh”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I just don’t know why you would have missed me when you didn’t want me to be your friend anymore or ever”
“I didn’t mean it Bun I swear. I was angry an-and I took it out on you, I’ve regretted it ever since”
“Why was you angry? I’m the one that had my back exposed to the whole school and the three people who were my only friends, the only people I trusted more than anything didn’t try and stop it or-or even try and help me. You had no right in being angry James” he hates how she doesn’t raise her voice and hates that she calls him James.
“I know and I’m sorry Y/n I really am”
“It’s okay I guess.”
“No it’s not! None of the shit I said or didn’t do was okay, you’re my best friend Bun and I should have stuck up for you. I shouldn’t have said I chose Dot over you because you always came first no matter what”
“It’s okay because it doesn’t matter anymore, I got over it”
“Over it or over me?”
“Honestly? Both”
Bucky released a choking sob at her admission, she had gotten over him and he didn’t know what to do. “Bun-“
“You shouldn’t call me that James, don’t want to upset your girlfriend”
“I-I don’t have a girlfriend”
“What happened with Dot?”
“She-I walked in on her having sex with Brock”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she said it was a one time thing but he said they’d been at it for months so…”
“I’m sorry, I never liked her”
“Did you even know her?”
“No…what kind of name is Dot anyway?”
“It’s short for Dolores” he laughed.
“Stupid name for a stupid girl. How long were you two dating for?”
“A year, actually walked in on them the day after our one year anniversary”
“That’s cold”
“Yeah. What about you? Lover boy back there” he watches as her cheeks start to turn red and a shy smile on her lips, his heart pounds loudly in his chest at the sight.
“His names Pietro, w-we’ve been dating for five months now”
“How did you two meet?”
“He’s actually my best friends twin brother, we met when her family came up to see Wanda and she introduced us and yeah, he asked me out on a date and then another and another then he asked me out”
“Does he make you happy?”
“He does, well when he’s not talking with his mouth full” she giggled, and for the first time in over three years she looks up at him. Breath gets caught in her throat as he’s looking just as beautiful as he looked the last time she saw him.
“I’m glad, not about the food in mouth when he talks thing but I’m glad he makes you happy”
Not knowing how to reply they fell back into silence but this time it was comfortable.
Y/n was the first one to break the silence “do you know if anyone lives in my old house?”
“No one wanted to move in after…you know”
“Oh. Have you ever been there?”
“Once, I didn’t go in or anything I just stood outside”
“When?”
“A few months after you left. I’m not sure why I did it but” Y/n stood up and held her hand out for James to take and helped him stand, pulling her hand away from his once he was stood up she started to walk in the direction of her old home.
“Come on slow pokes” she called over her shoulder.
“Y/n are you sure about this?”
“My therapist said that it might help me to be able to finally move on”
“You’re in therapy?”
“Yeah, mom said it might help after what I did”
“W-what do you mean?”
“I tried to kill myself” she shrugged.
As she carried on walking she hadn’t realised that Bucky had stopped. She had tried to end her life and no one told him. Bucky had lost her as his friend and nearly lost her in this world completely and no one told him.
“Ducky?”
His heart stopped at that name.
“Duck? Come on we’re not that far now”
“Y-you called me Ducky”
“Well yeah that’s your name isn’t it?” She smirked.
“Bunny please don’t joke about this. You called me Ducky even though we’re not friends anymore”
“You’ll always be Ducky to me James. And who said we’re not friends anymore?”
“We-we aren’t?”
“Nope, we said we’d be friends forever and forever hasn’t ended yet so therefore our friendship is still intact, come”
“B-but what I said”
“It’s in the past”
“Can we go back to being Bunny and Ducky again?”
“Well of course, that’s if you actually did want to be my friend and not just doing it out of pit-“
A loud squeal echoed through the woods as Bucky charged at her picking her up as if she weighed nothing and spun her around. “I never meant what I said Bun never not for one second, please forgive me and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you”
“Buy me an ice cream and all is forgiven”
Laughing he puts her down slowly and nods “I can do that. Bun”
“Yeah”
“Yo-you tried to kill yourself?”
“Yeah, it was about a year ago”
“Why did you try and do it? Why wasn’t I told?”
“I was in a dark place Duck, remember my special place?-“ she taps the side of her head and watches as he nods “-well it wasn’t special anymore and-well I don’t want to get in to it but it got bad so I wanted to end it”
Rolling her sleeves up she showed Bucky the two angry long scars on her arms, he slowly reached out and gently glided a finger down the scars. “Nat found me in the bathroom and screamed out for Wanda who went and got a teacher, Mr Walters came running and picked me up rushed me to the schools nurse and I was taken to the hospital when an ambulance arrived. My parents were called and I begged them not to tell anyone that included your parents Ducky, they don’t know.”
“Bunny…”
“I’m okay now though, yeah I have bad days still but it’s not as bad as it had been and Dr Cho is incredible, she’s so sweet and she’s never once judged me about anything and she makes me laugh, oh and she always has sweets!”
“I should have been with you Bun, I’m so sorry I let you down”
“Hey none of that! It’s not your fault at all, mental health is a bitch-shit-fuck-please don’t tell momma I swore!”
“You still don’t swear?” Bucky laughs.
“No momma says it’s unladylike”
“You? A lady?” He has to stop walking and bends over with laughter.
“Oh shut up! I could be a lady”
“Never!”
Y/n knows it’s true herself but that was beside the point.
“Shut up. Come on I need your support to get this over and done with”
“I’m coming Bun, are you sure you want me here with you?”
“Always”
The rest of the walk was done in silence and before she realises she’s standing in front on the wired fence surrounding her old home. Looking at Bucky she musters a smile that he knows is fake and presses down on the fence and climbs over.
Waiting for Bucky to do the same she stares at the slowly decaying building that’s haunted her nightmares since she was seven years old. The ivy wraps itself around the house, windows are smashed from either Mother Nature, kids playing in the woods or animals. For some reason the building looks just like it’s supposed to - a building. She feels quite silly for letting it terrorise her dreams now that she’s standing in front of it, it doesn’t seem so scary now.
“Bun, we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to” Bucky’s gentle voice came from next to her.
“No I’ve got to, I’ve got to put the monster to bed once and for all. It’s-it-can we just wait out here for a few minutes, please?”
“Of course Bun. I’m right here”
A few minutes go by and she finally puts one foot out in front of the other, taking slow steps towards the place she once called home a very long time ago now. Her chest starts to feel tighter as she got closer to her nightmare.
Pushing the door open Bucky stepped up first knocking the cobwebs out of the way before moving back to where he was before.
“Thanks” she whispered.
I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. She chanted softly to herself as she forced her feet to move forward.
It was weird. As she walked further into the cabin she saw the small dinning table laying on its side, the two chairs broken and the small dingy couch still in the same spot as they were that night her father nearly killed her.
The floorboards creaked under their feet as they moved around the place.
“Th-this is where it happened” she whispers to Bucky as they stand in the middle of the room.
“Bun-“
“That’s my blood Duck” she points to the faded blood stains on the floor.
“Bun-“
“It’s creepy isn’t it? I laid right there and was on my way to play with angels before the cops showed up and now my blood is stained into the wood”
“Bun look at me, come on Bun look at me. Good, it’s okay. It’s all okay”
“I-I know it’s just creepy isn’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah it is”
“Can I show you my room?”
“Okay”
Walking down the hallway she comes to a stop in front of the first door on the right and she starts to push the wooden door open, both wincing as the hinges squeak.
“Nothings changed in here ah” Y/n moves over to the tiny desk her mama had gotten her she smiles “look…”
“It’s a stick Bun”
“Ah nope it’s not any old stick Ducky, it’s the stick you picked up the second time we met”
“What? Really, you kept it?”
“Of course aha. Hey can you help me move this?”
“Sure”
They move the desk - well Bucky did whilst Y/n stands there and watches - Y/n thanks him before kneeling down on the floor and started to lift up the floorboard smiling in victory when she sees the metal tin her mama had put there when she was five.
“What is it?”
“This, this has my toys that my mama hid so that he wouldn’t break them” she sits with her legs crossed and smiles up at Bucky as he sits across from her.
“Toys?”
“Yeah, but not any old toys Duck, no these are animal toys-look” she groans as she pulls the lid open “this is a giraffe, this is a sheep? no a goat, and an elephant-“ she lists off all the animals in the box as she blindly hands them over to Bucky who’s sitting there with his eyes fixed on her, the way her smile lights up makes his heart tingle, the way she sounds so happy brings a smile to his face. It had been so long since her saw her shine so brightly.
“And here’s a photo of me and mama”
Taking the photo his eyes bounce from the photo to her, it was the first time since he was either eight or nine that he’d seen a photo of his Bunnies mom “you look just like her”
“No, she’s beautiful”
“Exactly.” He smiles when her cheeks start to go red. “Hey do you have anything of your mamas?”
“Just photos” she shrugs.
“Come” he helps her put all the toy animals back in the tin and stands, helping her raise too he takes her hand and asks “is this her room?”
“Yeah why?”
“Let’s see if there’s anything of hers still here so you can have them”
“Duck…”
“It’s okay Bunny” he opens the door instantly shutting it before placing his body in front of the door.
“James?”
“I-I-we can’t go in there Bun”
“I know. Is there still blood?”
“You know?”
“Yeah, that’s the reason why he nearly killed me that night. I tried to find my mama and went into her room and well, yeah”
“Oh Bun”
“It’s okay, I want to go in it might help me feel closer to my mama if I have something of hers”
“Just don’t look at the bed okay baby”
Baby. Her heart shouldn’t stutter the way it did.
“Okay”
Bucky opens the door making his way over to the bed to flip the quilt over so she doesn’t have to see the stains, again.
“She always wore this jumper, I put it on once and tripped over when I tried to walk” she giggles.
“Take it, what about this?” Bucky hold up a long skirt that had patterns on it.
“In the summer she would pull up over her chest so it was like a dress and look it has pockets!”
“Take?”
“Absolutely”
Over the course of twenty minutes Bucky had found a small suitcase and they filled it with all the clothes she wanted to take.
“Bun is this box your mamas?”
“Yeah it’s where her jewels lived.” Laughing when Bucky cocks his eyebrow up “I couldn’t say jewellery so mama said jewels and told me that the box was their home”
“Fair enough, would you like to take it?”
“Okay”
By the time they had finished it was close to being pitch black in the cabin. “Come on Duck its getting too dark to see anything now”
“Okay” as they moved their way through the cabin laughing at each other when the other had bumped into something, getting to the door Bucky stopped “wait a second Bun”
“Duck-“
“Gimme a second Bun”
He goes back inside and she giggles when she hears him say “ow” a few minutes he comes back out smiling whilst holding up the metal tin that housed her toy animals.
“Couldn’t forget this now could we?”
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“Y/n? Where the hell have you been?”
“My old house…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah Ducky helped me get things that was my mamas”
“Ducky?” Both sets of parents say in unison.
“Yeah, we’re friends again”
Their dads, Bucky and Y/n all flinch when Maria and Winnie start screaming in joy, hugging each other whilst they jump around in a circle.
“Don’t even think about it George” Howard warns his longest friend as George slinks over to him.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about Howie”
“Don’t call me that!”
Bucky takes Y/n’s hand in his and slowly backs up whilst their dads argue.
“That was embarrassing” he laughs.
“It’s cute. Maybe we’ll be like that with our kids one day”
“W-what?” Bucky splutters, cheeks going bright red.
“N-no I mean me and my husband and you with your wife…you know?”
Before Bucky could reply they heard Sam’s voice from the doorway.
“Y/n…”
“Hi Sammy, hi Stevie”
Bucky watches as his three best friends reunite with each other, he has to admit that her comment about kids made his stomach flutter then drop when she mentions about her imaginary husband and his imaginary wife.
For the first time in three years Bucky felt whole once again.
<Previous   Next>
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Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1 @sibsteria @spencerreidisagorgman @sapphirebarnes @bruher @hawkinsavclub1983 @onlyonetifosi @parisadams @unabashedstarlightcrown @nash-dara @allofffmypeaches @loki-laufeyson68 @behindmygreyeyes @missvelvetsstuff @pigeonmama @lizslibrary @gloriouspurpose01
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tired-biscuit · 3 months
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18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: hybrids, predator/prey dynamic, mounting, sort of dubcon-ish, a hint of somnophilia, breeding, established relationship.
wc: 1.6k
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fox hybrid!naruto is as playful as much as he is sneaky.
he follows you around the apartment; curiously peeking from behind the corners, watching your every move not because he’s skittish, but rather because he wants to learn how you behave when you think he’s not around.
he does it quite often for some reason. perhaps it’s the wild of the predator that’s coursing his blood or the naive wonder that’s just signature for his personality, who knows, but if you catch him by any chance — and you do, he isn’t nearly as slick as he thinks he is — he immediately comes over, wraps his arms around you from behind and makes sure to comfort you and nip your cheek or bottom lip with his sharp fangs after every kiss he gifts you in apology.
still, he continues his watch. he learns your patterns over time despite the fact that he has a habit of tripping over his own two feet and blowing his cover with all the noise it causes. he learns the way you move, the little quirks that you exhibit, the timing of them. he learns them all as a safety precaution which he doesn’t really need if you think about it.
after all, he could slam into you full force as a means to take over and could simply make you submit to his predatory instinct just like a couple of his apex predator friends had done with their own mates in the past. he’s well aware that he’d win if he did it that way; he’s no wolf or bear, but he’s still stronger and armored with a far bigger set of teeth than the one that currently sits in your mouth.
however, the problem is that you’re sneaky too.
you’re a tough little thing to grasp — hard to impress, even worse to court. are practically made to slip between a person’s fingers if they were to try and squeeze you into their fist without asking for permission to do so first. on top of all that, you being a cat hybrid amongst all the other possibilities available doesn’t help his situation either; it makes you exceptionally perceptive and equally as hard to dominate because of it. so troublesome!
and that’s not all there is to it. even your eyesight is spectacular, as is your awareness of your surroundings. the triangle-shaped ears that sit atop your head twitch and constantly angle in the direction of the smallest movement he makes. and naruto knows that they do, that they listen and assess the danger. he’s tested it out so many times during the course of your relationship.
the first step he takes towards you whenever your back is turned in his direction is also usually his last because of how fast you are to turn around to face him in mere seconds, rigid body language exhibiting high alert. he’s never even gotten the chance to fully sneak up on you yet, much less tackle you into a play fight.
this entire thing would be so much easier if you were a bunny. he’d push and you’d take it like a good little rabbit, the end. everyone knows that bunny hybrids practically throw themselves before the jaws of a predator and spread their strong legs just as willfully the moment their first heat comes into play.
but naruto, even whilst itching to conquer you because of the beast within, kind of digs the challenge a moody little kitty such as yourself brings to the table. especially when the effort that he’s put into all this preying finally manages to pay off.
actually, it enables him to catch you when you’re least expecting it — during your afternoon nap.
your feline behaviour really shines at its brightest when you doze off. instinctively drawn to warmth, he’s since learned that you always fall asleep in the patch of sunlight that spills through the window and onto the couch across the room when the days are clear and the curtains are pushed to the side. always in the same position, too. on your tummy, with your limbs relaxed and stretchy; tail swishing from side to side ever so slightly before going completely still. just like now.
oh shit, there it is; the sign he’s been waiting for!
your tail has stopped moving so that means you’re completely out for the next half hour, perhaps even more. he watches from a safe distance just to make sure, leaning against the doorway that leads into the living room and straining his fox ears as hard as he’s possibly able as a means to catch every sound.
thud, thud, thud. your heartbeat is calm, as is your breathing. you’re at ease while you sleep, he can not only hear it but see it too. open and vulnerable and trusting, allowing yourself to be caught completely off guard. you could almost pass as docile, the way you look right now, but he knows better — he’s been with you for long enough to know.
so he takes one step forward, slowly. toes, heel. nothing happens.
he takes another. all is well.
and then all of a sudden, before your heavy eyelids can get the chance to crack open at the sound of fast-approaching footsteps, and before you can come back to from the depths of the cozy catnap you were so pleasantly indulging in, naruto at long last makes his move.
your sweet fox boyfriend pins you down with his weight as he lays on top of you; he squeezes you flat against the couch until your cheek is pressing into its soft cushions. he’s warm and shirtless and his skin smells like the summery shower gel he must have washed himself with earlier, but he doesn’t seem to be scared of your claws that might come in contact with him, promising pain.
even his hair is still damp. a small droplet of water lands on your cheek when you try to turn your head to the side to look at him.
you hiss at him with prominent annoyance when it slides down the edge of your jaw, the action a subtle warning that clearly tells him to stop this nonsense right now, but he’s been expecting that, too. so he works quickly to try and tame you into submission, allowing instinct to take charge because it’s the only safe bet he has.
you’re surprised how easily he works his way around you and it’s entirely your fault. he doesn’t show how strong he actually is underneath all the shy caresses that he gives you and the nice grins and it makes you forget, giving you a false sense of authority that quickly diminishes when you’re the one experiencing that raw power on your own body.
so it’s no wonder that you stand no chance while he manhandles you and keeps you caged underneath him. that you feel utterly helpless while he drags your comfortable little shorts down your legs with zero problem; until they’re hanging off one ankle right along with your panties.
he frees his cock, fists it a couple of times with the help of some drool before he mounts you then, breathing hard and still making sure to avoid the claws you’re bound to sink into him the second he releases your wrists. he’s holding them both with just one hand, seemingly mocking your incompetency even further, albeit completely unintentionally.
and it’s true; he doesn’t mean it. naruto has never been mean-spirited like that despite the whole predator aspect that lives and roars beneath his gorgeous tan skin.
but foxes can be tricky.
so he holds his grip and they dig into the couch instead, your claws. they get caught in the blanket that you’re both sweating on top of now as his hips rut into you and yours follow the deep, almost animalistic rhythm even though your anger and pride tell you to stop, stop, fucking stop obeying him.
but you can’t stop, you’re forced to submit because he’s a bigger threat than you are; it’s just how your brain is wired. you bend to survive. it’s exactly like that situation with the scrawny mouse girl who you used to tease and endlessly make fun of back in high school.
how does it feel to be on the prey side, little kitty?
you’re unsure how to feel about this entire thing, it might be because your mind has slipped into a certain kind of haze. he fucks you like he’s never fucked you before and a prolonged mewl that you can’t hold back leaves your lips when his teeth sink into the crook of your neck all of a sudden, marking you.
the strap of your tank top is hanging off your shoulder, exposing you further, and his hot, greedy mouth follows the naked skin without a second thought, just biting, licking, sucking. marking.
he’s growling and snarling into your ear every time he slams into you, sounding like the exact opposite of himself. you’re no better either; you keep making so much noise that you’re ashamed of yourself. moaning and whining, squirming and thrashing underneath him. by the time he fills you up with his seed, you’ll probably start to purr.
just the thought alone makes you feral. the sudden urge to be bred and bear his children plagues your mind like the deadliest storm. imagining your pussy leaking his warm cum is simply too good while stuck in a lowly position such as this one.
his cock is throbbing inside you as he pounds into your slick cunt, trying to push its way into your fucking womb. he’s big and heavy, hot in your tummy and hard to fit. the adrenaline that he’s getting because of the complete control he now has over you is surely exciting him enough to make him see god.
he probably won’t see god, though.
oh no, you’ll make sure to drag this wicked fox into the very depths of hell the second his knot stops swelling and he releases you from his iron-like grip.
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miupow · 4 months
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‧₊˚✩彡 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 /ˎˊ˗ 𝚌.𝚢𝚓 *ੈ✩‧
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┆ rockstar!choi yeonjun x fem!reader ╰--⪼ one of the hardest things about dating a rockstar is the distance; when he’s on tour he’s thousands of miles away, busy and unable to call, and you spend months alone in a cold counting down the days until he gets home. but your boyfriend put some extra time aside to make a very special video call to his favorite girl.
. . . RATING ! NSFW, MDNFI! . . . WORDS ! 1.7k . . . WARNINGS ! soft dom!yeonjun, daddy kink, lots and lots of pet names, praise kink, sex toys, facetime sex, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, a little angst in the beginning
for @napofamoon's growing pain rockstar!txt event! this is also a little christmas gift for her and all of my followers~~ thank you to @taegimood and @wolfytae-exe for proofreading!
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You purposefully let the call ring out for a bit before answering– you didn’t want him knowing you had been pacing for an hour, waiting impatiently by the phone. 
“Hey beautiful,” Yeonjun croons immediately upon you picking up, pretty bare face filling up the screen of your phone– he must’ve just gotten out of the shower, his hair wet and pushed back, black tank top and flannel overshirt pulled on haphazardly like he had been in a rush… sometimes you hated how he looked so beautiful so effortlessly. It reminded you just how horrifically out of your league he was. “What are you up to? How was your day?”
“Mm.. not much. It’s been boring without you.” You sigh listlessly, giving Yeonjun a tight, unconvincing smile. “I didn’t have work today so Yunjin took me shopping– got some things for the apartment, some new clothes. Waited for you to call. I’m honestly more interested in how you’re doing, babe.”
Yeonjun gives you an apologetic little grin, eyes unreadable– it does nothing but makes you feel worse. At least he was aware he promised to call three hours earlier. “I’m sorry it’s so late, we had a show.”
“I know.” You reply, a little curt. Yeonjun doesn’t have complete control over his own schedule, pushed and pulled around everywhere he goes by both his managers and his other band members, bending over backwards for breaks snuck in between press appearances and shows every time he and his band were on tour… you’ve beat yourself senseless trying not to let it get to you.
“I’m sorry, baby, I really am.” Yeonjun repeated, voice low as he leaned in closer to the camera. “There was a problem with the sound system so our open started an hour late, and then there was a fight in the pit so we had to stop for security to kick them out, and then Beomgyu wanted to get drinks after the show and–” 
“It’s alright, Jjun. I understand.” You cut in, voice soft. Yeonjun gives you a look like he doesn’t quite believe you. “It sounds like you had a busy night… you always have a busy night.”
“Yeah, I’m sure things are real quiet when I’m not around.” Yeonjun gives you one of his signature grins, lopsided and handsome, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Missing me yet?”
He wants you to respond with some snide joke, lighten the mood– Yeonjun’s begging for it, brown eyes nervously flitting across your face as his smile cracks and splinters, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. “So fucking much, Jjun.” you croak, “I miss you so fucking much.”
His face drops immediately, his unconvincing grin giving way to one much more solemn and sad– it makes your stomach churn, unable to stomach the helplesslessness in his eyes. “I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon.” 
“But when?” You press, even though you knew you shouldn’t. Conversations over ETAs only ever lead to fights– Yeonjun loved to make promises he knew he couldn’t keep. 
“Soon.” He repeats, his stare hard as he shifts on his hotel bed. “I’ll make it work. I’ll come and see you.” 
You knew he wouldn’t, but he was always such a sweet liar.
The look on your face must have given you away, because Yeonjun gives you a desperate, pleading pout, kissable lips pulled down into a grimace. It tears your heart to pieces. “Just bare with me baby, okay? The tour’s almost over, I’ll be home soon–”
“And then you’ll just go on tour again.” You spit, nastier than you meant for it to come out. The wide-eyed, guilty look Yeonjun gives you makes your heart drop to your stomach; you’re fairly sure you would have felt better if he had just gotten angry with you instead.
The sigh he lets out weighs a ton, settles on both of your shoulders. “Can we just talk about this later? We can talk about this when I get home, just– I love you. You know that, right?”
“I love you too,” You reply in a whisper.
“I love you more than anything in the world, baby, more than this.. stupid fucking job, okay?” You had never heard Yeonjun refer to his career as a “job” before… you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Everything I’m doing right now is for our future together; if I pull this off right we won’t have to work another day in our lives, do you understand? It’s fucking rough right now but we’ll get through it, baby, I know we will. It’s all for you, beautiful.”
“I love you,” you repeat, voice wobbly with unshed tears. You’ve heard this speech a thousand times but it never failed to break you down, make your heart full.
“God, gorgeous, I love you too. My everything. My future. Enough sadness, yeah?”
Yeonjun’s gentle, soft words snaps you out of your reverie, reminds you of your plans before getting lost in your own emotions– you hadn’t wanted this call to go this way at all… in fact, you had wanted it to go a different way entirely. You nod and quickly rub your eyes.
“Jjunie…” you start, still semi-sad voice melodic and now charged with a sweet, playful lilt. “I got you something, when I went shopping earlier…” 
Yeonjun catches your drift fast, his eyebrow raising with a mischievous grin; he was always so in sync with you, always understood your wants and needs like he could read your mind. “Oh? What’d you get me, sugar?”
You giggle, blink away the tears as you smooth your hands over your baggy sweater, play with the hem– you scoot back a bit, letting more of your body come into frame; Yeonjun hisses in a loud breath when he sees that sweater was the only thing you were wearing.. “I dressed myself all pretty for you, daddy– do you wanna see?”
“Fuck,” Yeonjun breathes, leaning even closer to the camera. His pretty brown eyes are blown wide, lids low as he bites at his plush lower lip. “Take it off, let daddy see.”
You’re slow in sliding off your sweater, teasing as you tug it up over your thighs, over your hips– Yeonjun drinks in every inch, hungry eyes locked on your thighs, and he lets out a low, nasty groan from deep in his chest when you reveal to him your pretty lace thong. 
“God, baby, you’re so fucking pretty,” he growls, “Turn around for me.” 
You follow his directions obediently, turn your back to show him your lace-covered ass as you finish peeling off your sweater— the sound Yeonjun makes is unholy, deep and nasty and matching the grin on his face. “Fuck, such a perfect ass. So beautiful.” 
“I miss you, daddy.” you whine, turning back to the camera to show Yeonjun your pout. His lips are gnawed raw, shiny with spit and pretty pink as he takes in greedy eyefuls of your bra-clad tits, coos at you so sweet and condescending. 
“Mm, I miss you too, sugar. Go on; show daddy how much you miss him. Take that bra off ‘n show him those pretty tits, hmm?” 
“Yes, daddy~” you purr, quick to reach behind you for the clasp. You’re teasing in sliding off your bra, let the straps hang off your shoulders for a moment before you take it off entirely. Your perky nipples pucker in the cold air, begging for attention— you know better than to touch without Yeonjun’s permission, however. 
He can read you like a book, knows exactly what you need as you squirm on camera. “Go ahead and touch, my good girl.” 
One hand flies to your breast, tweaking your nipple between your forefinger and thumb; the other moves to rub your clothed clit in tight circles. you let out a breathy moan at the feeling, fight every fiber of yourself to keep your eyes open— you don’t want to miss a single second of watching Yeonjun. He’s breathing heavy, hastily angled the camera down to show you the big bulge in his sweatpants. He strokes himself over the fabric with the lightest of touches, teasing the both of you as he pants into the microphone. “What I would do if I was there...”
“What would you do, daddy?” you ask lightly, feigning innocence, pinching your nipple with a whimper. You’re so wet you’re soaking through your little panties— you’re sure Yeonjun had noticed. 
“God, I’d fuck you so hard. Dressed up so pretty for me, you deserve a reward, fuck— I’d leave those panties on while I bend you over and fuck you good, fill you up with my cum… you’d let me, right angel? Let me breed that little pussy?”
You moan high in your throat, hips stuttering as you continue to circle your clit, play with your bud. “Yes, yes! M-more, daddy, I need more!”
Yeonjun squeezes himself through his sweats, snickers at your fucked-out face. “Oh, baby… how about you go and grab that little vibe you love so much, give daddy a little show?”
You don’t need to be told twice; nodding desperately, you reach for your bedside drawer and pull out your favorite vibrator, thin and pink and powerful enough to make you scream. You settle back into frame, position yourself with your thighs wide apart  so that Yeonjun has a full view of your drooling cunt, the soaked fabric of your thong clinging to your lips obscenely. You feel vulnerable and exposed, and you embrace it as Yeonjun drinks in your form.
Yeonjun’s too impatient to tease you, giving you an affirming nod so you can start running the vibe across your throbbing slit. “Don’t take those panties off,” Yeonjun orders, slowly untying his sweatpants. “Want you to play with yourself with them on, okay?”
You don’t like the sound of that. “But I want my fingers,” you whine, pathetic, “want something inside—“
“Nuh uh,” Yeonjun chastises, pulling his hard pink cock out and giving it a stroke— you hadn’t realized how much you missed it until you saw it again, cockhead flared and dripping precum. “Listen to daddy, baby. Nothing goes in that cunt except my cock, you hear me? Be patient— I’ll fill you up when I come home.”  
And it isn’t until after he’s made you cum in your panties, vibrator on your clit and fingers on your nipples, that he explains why; he has a surprise for you too. 
The rest of the tour was canceled. He’s coming home.
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ma1dita · 10 days
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do we have any sick!trouble and luke taking care of everything for her??(including her hehe🤭) if not then i’d like to think she would probably try to push herself through the day making sure camp doesn’t get set on fire bc older sister core! + dionysus probably dgaf 🤷🏻‍♀️ and maybe only luke noticing that she’s breaking out in a cold sweat and her movements a little more sluggish than usual but shes stubborn af so she refuses to rest
🐥
also ur works are crushing me jo they’re soo good😭💗
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x dionysus!reader
a/n: no trouble tags fuck it we ball! no edits either lmfao fluff :) can be a standalone just know reader is camp mom and Luke calls her trouble/slight cabin 12 mentions but not important (partners in crime series if you wanna check it out)
wc: 860
Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen you be quiet.
Your voice is synonymous with the harmony of Camp Half-Blood in all of its forms: early morning announcements over the loudspeaker that serve as a wake-up call for campers to be ready for cabin inspections, hollow outcries to keep certain deviants in line (the Stolls and your brothers are a deadly force to be reckoned with), comforting words like kisses for scraped knees for the little ones, down to the gentle blanket of your singing at lights out. Luke also just knows by now that you love to have the last word—gods forbid someone else beat you at something you’re good at. Words always come easy when it comes to you (abilities of sons of Hermes aside) he finds out—but he can’t think of what can convince you to go back to bed today, especially with a temperature of 100.7 F.
He’s been circling you like a hawk this whole morning, not chastising (because clogged sinuses and all you’d probably fight him to your last breath), but rather helping out where he can. He swiftly double-checks counselor assignments once your puffy eyes leave the page, steers you away from walking straight into the fires of the forge instead of the exit at the armory, and waves off any bystanders who dare to get caught in the crosshairs of your bullheadedness.
In times like these, Luke’s almost grateful to be his father’s son (still a hard no, but you get the point). Doing these tasks undetected and mostly through a sleight of hand is better than worrying you even if he’s already at his wit's end; you’re quick in your own right too, body and brain separated today yet working on autopilot through a foggy sick-riddled mind. He hates leaving you like this even for a moment despite your protests of being able to handle yourself, but the two of you are spread thin today with all the work to do.
Luke finds you later after his workshop with your head against the cool stone of the climbing wall. You sniff into your sleeve, a wet sound stifled by the worn-down orange uniform you all wear, though yours looks as exhausted as you are, eyes closed and motionless even with lava slowly trickling from the top.
“Trouble? Are you okay babe? Grover fell off the wall already, you should… restart the mechanism,” he mutters, a big hand clasping at the nape of your neck like someone grabbing a kitten by its scruff.
“He’ll be fine, he’s a big boy,” you mumble with your face still attached to the rocks. “I’ve seen him climb over the Ares table for the last donut at lunchtime, molten lava and boulders should be a piece of cake.”
“At least cake is less painful and more delicious,” the satyr groans, hairs singed down to his hooves. Luke sighs, helping Grover back onto his feet for a well-deserved break.
“Babe…If you don’t move, sooner or later the lava’s gonna smother you.”
He shakes your arm since the controls are wedged between your body and the wall but it’s as if your body is bolted to the floor. A dissonant noise crawls out of your throat, “Dunno, kinda sounds nice. Maybe it’ll clear my sinuses.”
“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re sick.”
Even if he can’t see your face he knows there’s a scowl carved across it, “M’not sick. Just some allergies. I don’t get sick, Lu. Being sick is for the weak!” Lava continues to slide down the wall like molasses, inching you closer to a fate of fire— and your boyfriend watches you try to welcome it with weary arms.
“If you’re not sick, then I’m the best singer at Camp Half-Blood,” Luke drones as he crosses his arms. He can hear Percy laugh from the sidelines at that, silenced quickly by a glare.
“Now that would really clear her sinuses—even better if he dresses up for Theatrics again,” the son of Poseidon sniggers until a stray boulder comes barrelling towards where he and Grover are sitting. Everything’s suddenly less funny.
“It was one time, Jackson, and I wasn’t…” Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Trouble was just mending a costume.”
“It’s okay Luke, not everyone can pull off a corset.”
“Grover, another word out of you man and I’ll make sure your legs are permanently hairless,” Luke grits, finally tired of the chit-chat and more focused on getting you to rest. In one quick movement, he sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder while his other hand slams on the button to reset the gears of the climbing wall. A delayed reaction falters from your throat, something of a yelp and an exhale.
“Luke! Put me down!”
But he’s already off in the direction of Cabin 12 to get you settled under the covers for at least the rest of the day until you’re up and kicking again. Your protests are scratchy but loud as he takes you away from the two kids and it's as if everything is right in the world again.
“Remind me not to get a girlfriend that stubborn one day,” Percy mumbles, bumping shoulders with his best friend.
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sugrhigh · 2 months
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HALLOWEEN - ( m.s )
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summary- you help your best friend matt with his makeup on halloween
warnings- none it’s cutie fluff
bff!matt x fem!reader
a/n: here’s a short little fluff piece i wrote a minute ago to hold you guys over for a bit!! more to come soon i promise
@fawnchives @l9vesick @junnniiieee07 @wurlibydominicfike @mazzystar111 @sturnlova @mattswrld @blueeyedbesson @urmommysbathroom @idkwhatthisevenislol
“will you quit shifting around? you’re messing me up.”
you’re so focused on getting his makeup perfect, and he won’t stop fidgeting, which doesn’t help. your bare knees press against his black jeans as you both sit criss-cross on his bed.
you're already in your costume, which is just a more adult version of dorothy, blue checkered dress and all.
“i’m not even moving!” matt protests, squinting one eye open to look at you.
“don’t do that either! keep ‘em closed.” you scold him, and he surprisingly listens.
matt feels your laugh fan across his face as you lean back in, and he can smell your light perfume. being this close to you always drives him crazy, whether you’re just friends or not.
“so damn rude.” he jokes with a small smile as you continue applying the dark eyeshadow to his eyes.
you’d already finished with the bottom half of his face; he’s a skeleton, teeth outlined around his mouth and cheekbones emphasized by the smoky makeup. he’s even got the shirt with a ribcage printed on it to match.
you’re copying an inspiration picture he found on pinterest, of all places, and you have to admit you’re doing a damn good job.
matt looks great. a little too good, with his face all scruffy against your hand and his hair messy across his forehead. it’s hard not to notice when you’re right up against him.
“who else is going to keep you in check?” you reply, adding a few finishing touches to some of the outlines and trying not to stare at him too much.
“true. you definitely know how to humble me.” matt says as you lean back a bit to observe your work.
“hey, i’m not always mean.” you find yourself frowning a little bit, and you’re not sure why his answer upsets you.
this time he fully opens both eyes, that striking shade of blue, and he looks at you like you’re crazy.
“sure you’re not.” he says sarcastically, and your eyebrows furrow further.
his small grin fades when he notices your own expression, and matt nudges his knee against yours gently.
“i was just joking. i love you, even when you’re kind of cranky.”
this makes you smile, even though you try to fight it. you have to admit you’re not always the nicest, and that sometimes you do have a bit of a guard up with him.
it’s just because you love him as so much more than your best friend, and it scares you. looking into his eyes right now is scaring you even more, and you see his gaze flick at your mouth.
“your makeup is all done, princess.” you tease matt softly, and he licks his lips.
now he can see you staring at his mouth, and it makes his stomach erupt with butterflies. it’s embarrassing how many times he’s thought about kissing you throughout this process, having you just inches from his face as you helped with his costume.
maybe that’s why he liked the idea so much in the first place.
“then i guess we better get going, sweetheart.” he taunts you back, and you suck in a breath.
a stroke of silence passes between the two of you, one of the most charged moments you’ve ever experienced with him.
“tell me not to kiss you,” matt says quietly as he leans in, lips so close to yours you swear you can almost feel them, “tell me it’s a stupid idea.”
“i…i can’t do that.” you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear.
he can’t take it anymore. he closes the final bit of distance between the two of you so that he can capture your mouth with his own.
it’s steady and sweet, and you’re just so glad it’s finally happening. you put a hand on his chest, pulling away after a good minute.
you’re breathing a bit heavy and so is he, both unable to contain your smiles. you smudged his makeup a bit, so you reach up and fix it with your finger gently.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin your hard work.” matt apologizes.
“it’s okay, i liked it enough to forgive you.” you tease him, giving him one more careful peck just for the hell of it.
he laughs, and it’s his turn to extend his hand out, using his thumb to wipe the black streaks off of your lips. your heart feels like it’s going to explode, and you don’t know how you’re going to go to this party with all of your friends and act normal.
“we should do that more often, maybe when i’m not a skeleton.” he suggests, dropping his hand back into his lap with a grin.
“you’re actually right for once, because we really should.” you joke, licking your lips to make sure your own makeup still looks okay.
“what did you say earlier about being so nice?” matt tilts his head, eyebrows raised in a knowing look.
“hey, i never said nice, i said not always mean.” you point out, and he chuckles again as he shakes his head.
he’s about to respond when chris throws the door open and both of you flinch hard.
“hurry it up, lovebirds. we’re going to be late.”
373 notes · View notes
picklypickle · 8 days
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- The only one -
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a/n: hiii everyone!! this is my first little story, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, if you want to see more of my writing feel free to send me a request!! Enjoy! ;) words: 1.9k
warnings: tiny bit of swearing, I wrote this with a fem reader, kinda jealous Melissa
When you walk into the staff room in the morning, the first person you notice is your beautiful girlfriend, sitting at her usual table, sipping her coffee with her work wife, Barb, right next to her. At first, she doesn’t notice you, being way too preoccupied by whatever story Barbara is telling. But when she does turn to you, with a frown still on her face from the conversation that was happening prior, her gaze softens and she gives you a soft smile only you can recognize as an “I love you”.
“There she is!” you hear Jacob saying from across the room “Where were you? How come you didn’t get here at the same time as Melissa? Oh no, did you guys fight?” He nervously says as he quickly makes his way over to you.
“Nooo!! No no, I was just running a little bit late so I told Mel to leave without me, thank you for your concern tho!” you laugh.
Everyone at Abbott knew you and Melissa were together, infact, they were the ones who had gotten you two together in the first place, six months ago and they were the biggest fans too. If anything ever happened between you two, your colleagues would probably be more crushed than you and your own girlfriend.
You hear the teacher’s lounge door open and turn around to see who it might be. Suddenly, one of your very close friends and fellow teacher at Abbott, Lauryn, bursts into the room with her usual smile plastered on her face. When she sees you waving, she makes her way over to you.
“Hey girl!! Such a nice day today huh?” she says.
“It is! Oh my god I love your dress!!” you exclaim as you look up and down at her outfit. She is wearing the most beautiful flower patterned dress. You make a mental note to look online for a similar one when you get home tonight.
“Thank you so much!! You know, I bet it would make that perfect ass of yours stand out, you should get one.” She says and proceeds to lick her lips.
You blush out of embarrassment. Did she forget you are with someone? Even worse, that Melissa is literally sitting not even 2 meters from where this very awkward interaction just took place and heard it? You quickly try and look at Jacob, trying to see if he heard the same thing, but unfortunately, he has already left and is talking to Gregory. You quickly glance over at your girlfriend who you can tell very well, has her fists clenched so hard and is fuming right now.
“Uh, thanks!” you try to say as normally as possible, trying to hide the confusion in your face.  “Um anyways, I really have to go, the kids are going to get here soon.” You quickly say and wave goodbye, smiling at her. You rush out of the room, wanting to get away from this whole situation as fast as possible. However, Melissa notices this weird behavior, as she is getting up to come check on you Barb sits her back down. 
“Melissa, you heard what she said, the kids will be getting here soon, she probably just wants to prepare everything.” she says “And besides i'm not done with my story yet, so sit back down.” she adds, while tugging at her sleeve to bring her back down.
When you get to your classroom, you start writing everything you need down on the board, such as the date and the kids schedule that they can rely on during the day. While you’re writing with your favouite purple dry erase marker, your mind starts to wander off. You start to think about how everyone has been telling you for weeks now that Lauryn might be in love with you, but you’ve just been denying it and shrugging it off. But now, you’re starting to wonder if it’s actually true. It’s not like you’re into Lauryn or anything, you have the best girlfriend in the world! Infact, Lauryn’s flirty comments are starting to make you feel uncomfortable, you thought she knew that you were dating Melissa…maybe she forgot?
Before you know it, the bell rings and your little kiddos are running in and hugging you like they normally do every morning. You snap out of your thoughts and start your lesson, you’ll deal with the issue eventually, but for now, all that matters is your students.
After lunch was your free period while your students were in gym class. Today, you preferred to avoid everyone and stay in your classroom to do some grading on the most recent test.
Just as you put a sticker on the last copy, you hear a soft knock at the door, you turn arround expecting to see Melissa but you’re met with Lauryn’s grin, holding her cellphone.
“Hey! Am I bothering you?” She asks, peeking into your classroom to see if anyone else is there.
“Nope, I just finished grading these papers.” You reply, gesturing to the stack of documents on the corner of your desk.
“Ahhh alright well, I need to show you this video, it’s so us!” She says excitedly and comes to stand next to where you’re sitting down.
You start to watch the video but quickly realise it’s dedicated to couples… you stop paying attention and focus more on the reflection of the glass of the phone, when you see Lauryn, she’s not.. looking at the video? You try to see what she’s looking at and realize that she is staring directly at your cleavage, practically drooling too. You get red. You get uncomfortable. You start to pray for her to leave or someone to wal-
Someone knocks at the door, again.
“Am I interrupting something?” You look up, recognizing the voice. 
Melissa is standing at the door, hands on her hips.
“Oh hey Melissa!” says Lauryn “You aren’t interrupting anything, I was just showing Y/N this video.” She goes to show Mel the clip.
Your girlfriend clearly also realizes the video is meant for couples and clears her throat, crossing her arms. This makes you look up at her. You can see that she’s jealous, she is part of the group of people that think Lauryn is in love with you and she is also not having it right now.
“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it!” Says Lauryn, she waves goodbye at the two of you and walks out of your classroom. Clearly she knows that you and Mel are together, so what is this all about?
You and your girlfriend stare at eachother for what feels like forever, until you decide to speak up first.
“Look I d-” You start.
“What the hell was that?” Your girlfriend cuts you off.
“Listen Melissa, I have no idea she just, ugh!” You say, being exhausted from this whole situation “Please don’t be mad, I don’t feel like fighting, I’ll talk to her later.” You finish.
“Hon,I'm not mad, heck if anything I'm jealous!” she says, uncrossing her arms and slowly walking towards you “She’s always making these comments and remarks about your body and undressing you with her eyes! I’m the only one who gets to do that here. And the worst part is, I can tell you hate it, it makes you extremely uncomfortable.” She continues, bending down infront of you and resting her hands on the armrests of your chair. You blush, she knows you perfectly.
“It does.” You say, getting more and more red. You quickly look down at her lips, unknowingly licking your own. The redhead in front of you notices.
“I know it does” she answers, bending her face down to yours, your mouths are inches away from each other “And no, i’ll be the one to do something about it.” 
You smile before kissing her softly, she kisses you back with just as much softness. After a moment, the kiss starts to turn more and more hungry. She places her hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You smile into the kiss. The school bell suddenly rings, signaling that you have to go get your kids from the gym. 
You groan as you pull away from her mouth
“Fuck, I have to go get my kids at the gym! I’m so sorry Mel, I'll talk to you later!” You quickly peck her lips before exiting your class.
Melissa stays there for a moment, smiling to herself, thinking about how much she loves you. 
It’s the end of the day, you students have alrea dy gone home and all that’s left to do is go down to the teacher’s lounge to collect your things that you had left there. 
When you get there, you’re greeted by all your friends who are also gathering their things.
“Hey girl, did you have a good day? I didn’t see you around much?” Asks Janine, with a small frown, her face slightly coated in worry.
“Yes I had a good day, I just had a lot of grading to do and preferred to do it in my own space.” You reply reassuringly.
“Oh okay!” She smiles at you.
“Hey, uh, Y/N?” You recognize the voice, it’s Lauryn “Do you think maybe.. you’d wanna um, get drinks or something tonight?” She asks nervously.
“Uh, um” you have no idea what to say “I uh..”
Melissa, who was talking to Barb as per usual, notices you and Lauryn right away and decides that this is her time to shine, this is where this little Lauryn thing stops. 
“Hey, Lauryn?” Melissa says while approaching you from behind “Have you ever noticed in the last six months that, I don’t know, me and Y/N are dating? Or did you just think we were joking?”
“Oh! Well..” The girl in front of you says 
“Save it glasses, and save up that money for a new pair because this one isn’t working” Mel says “Now back the fuck off before I throw you down the stairs and the only drinks you’ll be getting are jello cups from the hospital” She finishes, before quickly turning around to grab her things and you by the arm and dragging you out the door.
“Oh, bye guys!!” She loudly says to everyone else in the room to make sure everyone heard.
“Bye Melissa!” Janine awkwardly says and makes her way towards Lauryn to check on her, not to comfort her, just to make sure no one ends up hating her in the future.
When you get to Melissa’s car, you can’t help but smile at her, and then well, laugh. You had no idea she was going to do this right then and there but she did. She joins the laughing fit after a few seconds.
“Oh how I love you!” You kiss her passionately before turning to your own car “I’ll see you at home sweetheart!” You yell at her before shutting your car door and starting your engine.
“I love you more hon, i’ll cook you your favorite pasta for dinner!” She yells back before shutting her car door as well.
With that, you both drive away to where was originally only Melissa’s house, but is now yours too, and you plan on it being for a very long time. Plus, you get to look for that new dress you want! 
238 notes · View notes
kayadrake123 · 1 month
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Love 
Tim Drake x Reader long Headcannons
Hey guys! Hope you’re all good. I haven’t posted for a while and I thought it would be nice to make a come back with a long head cannon about you and Tim’s relationship. Here you go! I will be posting more stuff soon!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Contrary to belief, Tim is actually a very affectionate person
And he has different ways of showing it depending on who you are
With his siblings he always makes sure to ask them about their interests and to get frequent updates on their lives 
He doesn’t mind them talking his ear off, even though he pretends he does with them by groaning and rolling his eyes 
Might get them a gift here and there
For example whenever he sees a book Jason may be interested in, he sneaks it into his apartment later that night with a note that says ‘hopefully this will make you leave me alone for a while’ 
He’s just kidding of course
With his friends he does pretty much the same thing, but he makes sure to add in a lot of reassuring hugs with them
Now with you his lover, he’s the softest he has ever been. 
He didn’t even think it was possible for him to be down this bad, I mean he’s been in other relationships but NOTHING will ever compare to the love he feels for you
He finds himself being vulnerable without even wanting to because you just have this effect on him where he instantly melts and feels safe in your presence
He has many love languages, but his main three are definitely physical touch, quality time and acts of service
He wants to be near you all the time
You radiate warmth and beauty and he finds himself being pulled towards you, that’s how you met in the first place 
He loves hugging you 
The feeling of your arms wrapped around him as he clings to you brings him immense happiness 
A hug from you can heal anything and everything 
He has a habit of crossing your body parts when you sit next to each other, with or without people around 
What I mean by this is that you’d be sitting next to him in a booth at a restaurant and Tim would make sure to cross your forearms together on the table where your hand is resting and hold your hand 
He drapes one of your legs over his when you’re sitting next to each other on a couch 
Neck kisses. 
He loves the way you squirm when he kisses you there and the beautiful smile that spreads across your gorgeous lips
He loves when you kiss him on random places of his body, such as his back when he’s facing away from you or his arm when it’s positioned above your head
He loves when you drag the tips of your nails across his arm or his back, he falls asleep to that all the time, especially on the hard nights 
He loves giving you massages, anywhere at anytime 
Whenever you guys go on walks he likes to link your pinkies together because he thinks it’s so wholesome and gentle - you’re both very independent but still want to be close to each other even if it’s the slightest touch 
Always opens the car door for you. ALWAYS 
He actually gets upset if you don’t let him do it 
He will hold your bag for you DO NOT EVEN TRY TO FIGHT HIM ON THIS 
Loves that when you do your nails (if you get your nails done) you ask him what colour you should get 
Loves it even more when you listen to him and choose the colour he chose 
Your feet are sore after walking in heels the whole night? He will pick you up bridal style and carry you. No questions asked. 
At galas when he can see you’re getting hot, he’ll grab a fan that he stored in his suit jacket and wordlessly fan you 
He loves laying his head in your lap and when you stroke his hair
Loves when you give him kisses on the tip of his nose 
When you first bit him he was like ???? What are they doing ??? 
But he got used to it and understands that you get a cuteness overload that makes you bite those you love
If you’re also a vigilante he always wants to be your partner on missions and patrol 
Hates when you get hurt like he actually cries I’m not kidding 
Not in front of his siblings (unless you’re dying or the injury is very severe) but later when you get home after confirming you are in fact okay 
Once you got shot in the knee when he was all the way across town from you on patrol
He dropped everything he was going to see you and make sure you’re okay (bailed on a lead he’s been following for 6 months) 
When you told him you were okay he nodded but you knew he didn’t believe you
The truth is Tim heard your scream over the comms and how in pain you sounded - he also knew you were still in so much fucking pain because your body was tense and with every movement he could see you forcing yourself to not cry out in pain 
Hates to see you upset when he gets hurt and will spend the next few days, weeks if he has to, reassuring you that he is okay 
He worships you. 
In and out of the bedroom 
He takes his time with you, kissing up your legs, your stomach, your chest and then he captures your lips in the most desperate and passionate kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more of him 
He loves the feeling of your body against his, skin-to-skin 
He always picks positions where he can feel your body against his
He also likes cuddling skin-to-skin 
He thinks you are the most beautiful and amazing human he has ever met and he feels so privileged and lucky to have you as his lover 
He loves being loved by you and he loves loving you 
You help him with a lot of things such as his anxiety, anger and his overcompensating 
Tim wasn’t ever really good at letting people love him, with his parents not being very affectionate and loving with him when he was younger 
He’s always been the one who loves and doesn’t get that love back 
But you, you changed that 
You let him know everyday that you love him and that you genuinely care about him and want to be with him 24/7
You’re his best friend and his soulmate and he will love you till his last breath and even beyond the grave
192 notes · View notes
ilguna · 7 months
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☼ between life and death (Finnick Odair) ☼
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summary; Finnick saves your life on the first day of the games, asking you to be his ally because he wants to keep his eye on the biggest threat in the arena.
warnings; swearing, fighting, blood mention, death, death mention, gore.
wc; 8.9k
The platform moves slowly to bring you to the surface of the arena. 
You tilt your head back, squinting through the darkness as your eyes adjust to the sudden light. You find large trees hanging overhead, blocking the sun. The further you come out of the ground, the more you’re able to see.
A strong breeze pushes the hair out of your face for you. The golden Cornucopia sits tall in the middle of this small meadow. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the Gamemakers put the tributes so close together before. This must’ve been their only option.
You shuffle on your metal plate to look behind you, being careful to not set off the explosive connected to it. You’re met with a thick forest, a smile creeps at the corner of your lips. You couldn’t have asked for anything better, this is exactly what you were hoping for.
This is less about the placement of the Cornucopia, and more about what surrounds it. In a forest like this, so tightly packed, it’ll be easy to lose someone in them. The bushes and tall grass clumped together at the base of the trees offer concealment for prying eyes. And with how small the meadow is, it makes for an easy escape for an intruder. 
Like you, for example. 
You would be with the Careers, only they didn’t want you in the alliance. It has something to do with your young age. You promised them that you’d be useful, but they were more worried about your maturity. They didn’t care about your score, they were focused on your ability to shut up and do what you’re told.
You aren’t interested in being bossed around. You’re not their errand girl. You tried to appeal to them by making your tribute partner tell them about your ranking back home in the academy, that you are the top of your class, all the way up to the seventeen year-olds. When they weren’t interested, you didn’t push your luck.
You don’t care that much about being with them. You’re pretty confident that you can win this by yourself. They’ll just have to watch their back. If you wanted, you could attack them one night. It doesn’t have to be today, it probably won’t even be in the next week, but when you’re ready, you could strike like a python, and be gone in the weeds.
They could get lost in these trees trying to find out. It can’t be that hard to get turned around.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let the Sixty-Fifth Hunger Games begin!”
With the announcement, you turn back to the Cornucopia. You have sixty seconds to figure out what you’re going to grab, and which direction you’re going to run in, after.
In the meadow, hidden in the flourishing grass and the bright flowers, are a number of items that could help you win. The further away from the mouth, the worse it is. Which means they don’t have any weapons out here. If you want them, you have to get in close, risk the danger of running across other tributes.
If you were anyone else, with a low rank in the academy and an even worse training score, you wouldn’t consider it. Your age alone is a death certificate here. However, you are neither weak nor unskilled. That’s why you’ll be joining them in the bloodbath.
What you want is a backpack, and a weapon you can actually use, at the very least. Swords are usually too heavy for you to use, but something similar, like a machete, will work. It’s not as thick, the Capitol doesn’t make them out of pure metal. Just the blade, and the handle.
The tributes that surround you, are what you’d consider nobodies. It’s further down the line, do the faces become vaguely important. The four other Careers are spread healthily apart, two of them being behind the Cornucopia all together. This means you only have two to worry about fighting.
If you’re quick enough, you won’t have to do that entirely.
You bounce on your toes slightly, moving side to side as you watch the time tick down. In ten seconds, the gong will sound and it’ll be a free for all. You have to remember that your goal is to get in and out with what you want. You’re not worried about getting kills under your belt, that can be done later on. 
You can feel your heart like a drum on the inside of your chest, as you take deep breaths to prepare yourself, leaning forward. You’ve got this. There’s no question about it. This is what you were trained for.
The exact second the gong sounds, you’re the first off of the platform. You sprint for the green backpack that’s leaned up against a box on the right. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see two other people that have the same idea as you. 
Unfortunately for them, you make it there first. In one fluid motion, you get your arm through the strap and fling it onto your back. You jump over the box, heading a few steps further in, swiping a knife and a machete. When you turn around to make your escape, you’re met face to face with your tribute partner.
You intentionally slam your shoulder into his stomach, a new tactic you learned to get taller people away from you. It works for those who aren’t expecting it, but he’s seen you do the trick a hundred times in the mock Games back home. He wrestles you to the ground, already pulling at the backpack.
“Damn it, Hunter!” You shout, “Get off!”
“I told you not to come here.” He tells you, as if you’re some child. “I told you we’d kill you.”
“You’re not doing anything.” You draw your knee up to put between you two, slashing at him with the knife. He dodges it, giving you more room to swing your leg up and kick him back.
You scramble to your feet, almost tripping in the process. You take a step to run, and he grabs the only foot on the ground, yanking it. You fall flat on your stomach, face screwing angrily.
That’s it.
You can hear him behind you, you squeeze the knife in your hand. You didn’t want to kill him, but if this is what he wants, then you insist. You push up to your knees, twisting around, blade out to make a wide cutting motion. He grabs your wrist, you spring up, swinging your arm under his armpit and behind his neck.
Once again, this takes you down to the grass. He manages to get the knife out of your hand in the process. You fall on top of him, hand in a fist, barreling down at his throat, never minding his face. He tries to catch you, but he misses. You land the punch, feeling the area cave.
He chokes, eyes wide. You jerk forward, grabbing the knife only a foot away. You pin his wrist down with your foot, drawing the knife back, and slamming it into his neck. Before you’ve even removed the blade, blood begins to pool in the area. You yank it out, search for your machete, which is closer than you thought it would be.
You retrieve it, glancing behind you to see that the other tributes are caught up in their own struggles to pay attention to what you’ve just done. With that, you turn to the forest behind the Cornucopia, running into the trees. 
The entirety of District Two just watched you murder the one person that’s supposed to be on your side. As well as every sponsor that had their bets placed on your older counterpart. And not to mention the academy, where you were trained and specifically told not to harm your tribute partner because it makes you seem aggressive and greedy.
There’s nothing you can do about it now.
When you think you’ve cleared the first mile, you set a slower pace for yourself to run, wanting to put as much distance as possible between you and the Cornucopia. When the bloodbath is done, the Careers will take an hour to collect themselves, and then they’ll set out to find whoever they can.
Or maybe they won’t, they’re down to three. If they had four, you’re sure they’d be more comfortable. With Hunter being dead, and them outcasting you and the boy from Four because of your ages, their abilities are limited. They’re not as big of a threat as they could be.
It might mean that they’d be willing to recruit new members. You’ve seen them do it in the past. You’re not sure they’d come crawling to your feet exactly, but you’d be an option because of your training. However, if they saw what you did to Hunter, you’re a different sort-of target.
They have so many people to worry about in here, that it could be days before they finally come after you.
That’s one of the perks of being fourteen, you suppose.
It’s hours later when the first cannon comes through, signaling the deaths from the bloodbath. It’s always baffled you how long the fights drag on there. It felt like you were there for only a couple minutes, and yet, it could’ve been up to thirty. Just you and Hunter wrestling on the ground.
You come to a stop, the muscles in your legs aching. You breathe deeply in through your nose, and out through your mouth. The cannons fire one at a time, with enough space in between for you to think. This year, it goes on until it reaches ten. One of those deaths is by your hands.
You swing the bag off of your shoulder, sliding behind a tree to crouch and dig through your goodies. You pull it out one at a time: a pack of crackers, a bag of dried meat, a small bottle of iodine, a firestarter, a plastic bottle with a cap for water, a decent amount of rope, and a thin sleeping bag.
You rest your elbows on your knees, biting your cheek while you stare at your new belongings. This is a very good start, almost too good to be true. You carefully place everything back into the bag, as well as the knife, because you have your machete to use if need be.
You zip it up, pulling it onto your bag. 
With miles put between you and the Careers, you feel comfortable enough to walk for the rest of the day. You continue straight, keeping an eye out for any other tributes that might have traveled in the same direction. It’s a waste of energy, though. These trees are placed tightly together, anyone could be hiding out here and you wouldn’t know until you’re practically on top of them.
You were hoping that the forest would thin out the further you go. You should’ve known better. When you get what you ask for, there’s always a catch that comes with it. You can’t complain, you’ll take whatever you can get.
You hum an upbeat tune from home, usually used to taunt others. Last night, when you were talking to Hunter about a possible secret alliance with him, he shot you down. He tried to tell you that you would die in here, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you were one of the first to go.
It’s funny how karma works, isn’t it? He’s the one that had to be airlifted out of the arena, not the girl that should’ve lost the fight. He’s the one getting his throat stitched to make him presentable for his family at home. He’s the one that’ll be lowered into the ground in a box in a couple days.
While that happens, you’ll still be kicking and fighting every second of the day.
The ground begins to slope upwards. At the bottom, you look up the hill, and see that the top isn’t that far away. It’ll give you a good vantage point, maybe you’ll be able to see over the trees you’ve been in for the past four hours.
You wipe the sweat from your forehead, watching it glisten on the side of your hand before rubbing it on the side of your pants. The hill becomes steep and irritating—the dirt is loose and you slip several times—but it’s worth it once you’ve reached the top.
Well, you had the right idea for the most part. Except, the way you just came is completely hidden by branches and leaves. You can’t even make out where the Cornucopia is, which is practically unheard of. No matter where a tribute is in the arena, the golden horn is almost always visible, or easy to find.
You’re not heartbroken over the Cornucopia, in fact, you forget about it the second you turn around and see the other side of the hill. There’s more trees, of course, but these woods aren’t densely populated, you can actually see what’s over here. And your eyes lock on the river that runs on the far side of the arena.
You chew on the inside of your cheek, squinting at the water. It’s far, if you had to guess, it’s somewhere around fifteen miles away. It’s going to be a long walk, one that you’re not entirely sure you can make today. If you ran, it could probably take less time, but you’ve got tonight to worry about, and all of tomorrow. 
If you tire yourself out today, you’ll be screwed. You shade your eyes, looking up to find where the sun is positioned. There’s a good six hours until sunset, you can spend half that time going in the direction of the river, and the other half finding a safe spot to sleep. That way, by the time the Fallen plays, you’ll be someplace safe.
With that plan in place, you begin down the hill, still humming to yourself. It’s lively on this side, it’s not nearly as quiet. The birds chirp to one another above you. The bushes will rustle each time a rabbit darts in and out. You won’t have to worry about hunting animals, at least. They’re keeping relatively close to the water source, which is good news.
The problem is that the other tributes, especially the Careers, will pick up on this. You weren’t planning on setting up a permanent camp anyway, but it’s definitely out of the question now. Once you get in close tomorrow, you’ll spend the rest of the day finding an area that looks boring enough to skip over searching.
It’s during this part of the walk, do you really begin to feel hot. You swing the bag off of your shoulder, unzipping your jacket and stuffing it into your bag. The relief is immediate, the breeze is able to properly caress your skin, cooling you down. The sunlight is still relentless. With these trees being further apart, shadows aren’t consistent. You walk in the shade as much as you can, and cross your fingers you won’t end up with a nasty sunburn.
The next two hours are easier, when you aren’t thinking about how you could go for a cold glass of water. One of the many treats that you were sure to appreciate in the tunnel before they brought you to the surface. She asked you what you wanted, it could be any food you could think of, and you asked for a glass of water.
Mostly for hydration, knowing that you’d be sweating it out in an hour, but also because it’s a habit of yours. No matter how hot or cold, indoors or outdoors, while you’re training, when your skin feels like it’s on fire, water is the one thing you ask above all.
You hope the stream is cold for you to enjoy. You’ll have to collect it, put the iodine in and wait. In that time, it could become warm, unless you let it rest in the river while it sanitizes. It won’t be perfectly cold. Beggars can’t be choosers, though. You know this.
By the third hour, you’re more than happy to start the journey of finding a place to sleep tonight. There’s a sufficient amount of sun to cover you while you wander, eyes searching the trees and nearby hills for any hiding spot to explore. You’re hoping for more than what the eye can see.
You come up with nothing.
So, you continue in the direction of the river, knowing that there’s another couple hours of daylight. If you can’t find anything in that time, that means you’ll be out here with the animals and the Careers, which is basically the same thing. If they find you, they’re not going to hesitate when it comes to tearing you apart. Regardless if they know you killed Hunter or not.
The trees get thicker, but you don’t stop and consider them. They need to be able to hold your bodyweight, and the branches aren’t ready for that. Besides, it would take one look up, and they’d be able to spot you. They need more foliage.
You stop humming when the sun sets, your cheery mood beginning to dampen. The light is gone, the night creatures are coming to life. You grip the machete in your hand a little tighter, telling yourself that you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re prepared.
It isn’t until the Capitol anthem plays, do you stop to listen and watch the death recap. The Capitol seal is bright in the sky, you want to be able to see who’s dead, yet this opportunity to see is too good to pass up. You start walking again, stealing glances at the sky.
The first face to appear in the sky is Hunter, now every tribute knows that they’re down a Career member. It’s not normal for them to lose someone on the first day, this will tank their credit and plant seeds of doubt in people’s minds. They’ll be underestimated, just not enough for tributes to start attacking them.
If tributes have been paying attention, then they’d also realize that they’ve been a small group since the beginning. They casted you out almost immediately, you were left to study and show off on your own. It was a pain, but it worked out in the end, you managed to score a nine.
The next face to show up in the sky is the girl from Five, meaning that districts Three and Four survived. At home, you’d be able to see exactly how the tributes died, as well as what they placed because of it. The next morning, you’d have training at the academy, where they’d go over each death and you’d have to come up with a way to survive, and then reenact it with another student. 
As morbid as it sounds, it works.
Both of the tributes from Six are dead, Seven made it out. The boy from Eight, both from Nine, neither from Ten, both from Eleven and just the boy from Twelve. It’s a pretty average group, you’re not all that surprised. The Capitol seal appears again, with a musical flourish, and then it’s gone and you’re plunged back into darkness.
You sigh.
However, you’ve traveled faster than you thought, because it’s less than an hour later, do you hear the sound of rushing water. Your pace picks up, you break through the trees, finding a small path along the bank of the river. You can’t help the laugh that erupts from you.
This wasn’t the plan by any means, you can’t bring yourself to care, though. You pull the bag off of your shoulder, going to unzip it to grab the empty plastic bottle, when something slams into you. The machete is gone, landing a few feet away. 
You twist, swinging your fist before you’ve even seen who it is that’s taken you down. They catch your wrist, pinning it down at a painful angle, leaning over you. It’s a girl, her dark hair creates a curtain around the two of you. There’s a sickening grin on her face.
“Where’s your friends?” She asks.
She isn’t very perceptive, is she?
As much as you’d like to pretend they’re around, if you called for help, it could alert anyone in the area that you’re here. If she does end up injuring you, the last thing you’d want is for someone to come around and finish you off. You’ve got to do this quietly.
“Around.” You smile when you say the word. “What about you? Do you even have any?” 
This isn’t the girl from Twelve, she’s skinnier, you could flip her over in a second, same thing goes for Three. And the girl from Eight is blonde, which stuck out for you because they’re usually dark haired. This is the girl from Seven, it explains the strength she has to pin you down and the body mass. She’s not fat, it’s muscle.
Maybe taunting her isn’t the brightest idea, but you really can’t help it.
“Around.” She mocks you. 
You bite your tongue, wanting to say a number of nasty things to her. “Oh really, why isn’t he with you? It’s safer to pair together when you’ve scored so low.”
She ignores the job, “Why aren’t they with you?”
You narrow your eyes, is she really going to mock you? “Because we’re scouting the area. We all agreed to meet back at the river, it’s only a matter of time before they come around.”
“Right,” She says. “They’d let the little girl go off by herself? How old are you? Thirteen?”
“You don’t believe me?” You ask her, “Fine.”
You draw in a deep breath, opening your mouth to scream for help, when she clamps a hand around your throat, squeezing. It’s painful, but you can’t help the smirk on your face, fingers grazing the machete above you.
“Shut up.” She snarls.
You grasp the handle, and you’re about to swing it at her neck, when a splash of hot liquid hits your face. Her hand loosens, as she leans back, looking down. You follow her gaze, and find the head of a spear sticking out of her stomach.
Blood. It was blood that got on your face. 
You shove her off, now that you have company, you need to work quickly. You get to your feet, hand sweeping the backpack off the ground, and tossing it out if the way. When you turn around, you’re met with the other outcasted Career. 
The boy from Four.
He comes out of the darkness, heading right for the girl from Seven. You take a couple steps back, fixing the machete in your hand. He keeps his eyes on you as he reaches forward, grabbing the handle of the spear, and yanking it out of the girls back.
Like you said, you weren’t the only one to get pushed out of the elite circle. The two of you are the same age, both being too young to be invited. Although, it won’t put him as far behind as it has you; he’s got everyone wrapped around his finger. Whether or not he’s done it intentionally is a mystery that you don’t care to solve.
From the moment he was reaped, the Capitol has been buzzing over him. Half of the tributes wanted him as an ally, too. The issue is, the ones that matter don’t want him. The older Careers want to win, and they can’t do that if they have the potential of being dragged down.
You don’t think he cared very much, though. He didn’t pursue them in the same way that you did. Once his partner told him to get lost, he went his own way to train for the Games. He scored a nine, the same as you. He is far from being innocent.
“I think we should be allies.” He says, taking his eyes off of you long enough to stab Seven. A cannon booms.
“And why’s that?” You ask.
“You’re a threat,” He tilts his head with a smile. “How is it that you managed to score so high without showing anything useful? I want to keep my eyes on you.”
His reasoning is flawed. If you were him, you’d want yourself dead. It’s the only way to ensure that you stay alive. A tribute down means one more tribute that you don’t have to worry about later on down the line.
You can’t help but believe him. Why else would he go out of his way to save you? If he wanted, he could’ve killed you in the middle of this interaction at any time, and you wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. 
The idea isn’t bad, either. You both have scored well, you won’t have to worry about carrying a bulk of the burdens, or protecting him against any tributes you run across. And he does have a lot of sponsors backing him up, which is a factor that you chose to ignore during training. You hate taking people for who they are at the surface or what they have on their side. You want to see their worth.
And this boy may be worth more than you think.
“Fine.” You tell him, his smile widens. “We aren’t friends.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He dips the spear into the river. “My name is Finnick.”
“(Y/n).” You tell him, lowering the machete, taking a few steps away to grab the backpack. 
“I found a cave.” He tells you, motioning up the stream, “A little ways from here. I was going to grab water, but I don’t have anything to carry it in.”
“I do.” You unzip the bag, tossing the plastic bottle at him. “Is the cave concealed?”
He catches it, “Yes, they won’t be finding us in there.”
This might work out.
“Let’s go over the plan one more time.” You say, tying your shoes. 
“Sure.” Finnick says, he’s standing by the entrance of the cave, weapon in hand. 
The spear lays discarded on the far side of the cave, no longer useful to him. He told you that you could have it, but you turned it down, preferring the machete. He upgraded from it sometime last week, when a sponsor sent him the trident he’s holding in his hand now.
You almost screamed when you saw it, because you’ve never seen a gift so expensive get sent into the Games. You’ve seen sponsors actively keep up with the tributes they have bets on, up until it’s too expensive. They always send small things, nothing that could ever add up to something as large as a trident.
What threw you more was how unaffected Finnick was by it. He didn’t seem to care, he even said something about the spear working just fine. You had to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, because you would’ve killed to get something half as good from a sponsor. And you were going to strangle him for being so ungrateful.
Yours have been sending food, which was greatly appreciated the first few times, but you’ve moved on from that. Hunting here isn’t nearly as big of a pain as you thought it would be. 
“We’re going to leave for the Cornucopia in an hour,” You begin, “When we get there, we’ll light a fire that they’ll be able to see. They’ll come after us, and we’ll split them. You want both of the tributes from One, and I’m supposed to take your district partner.”
“Yes.” Finnick says, “And when they’re dead, we’ll meet back at the Cornucopia to regroup, gather, and come back here.”
“You’re sure you can take two tributes at once?” You ask. “They’re older than us.”
“I’m going to net the boy and fight the girl. I told you, I’ve got this. Just worry about fighting Amaryllis.”
You make a face, “Is she really that bad? She doesn’t look like much and she scored an eight.”
“It was on purpose, remember?” Finnick sighs. “She doesn’t care about sponsors. If it were up to her, she would’ve scored lower. It’s part of her plan if she ever got reaped.”
You hum, letting him know that you’re listening. You’ve tried a couple times to get him to switch with you. You’d rather be the one to take the One tributes, even if that’ll be the most difficult task, but Finnick can’t stomach the idea of killing Amaryllis. It’s something about knowing her younger sister, and not wanting to cause problems.
When you told him that you were the one to kill Hunter, and it’s not that big of a deal, he shut you down. He told you that there’s a difference. You want to win at all costs, if that means tearing down everyone in your way, then so be it. For him, he’d rather die than lay a finger on her.
In a way, he called you heartless. He doesn’t realize that you didn’t go out of your way to kill Hunter. It was the only option you had. You weren’t going to try to escape the Cornucopia again, because you knew that Hunter would pursue you. You killed him because it had to be done. He would do the same if Amaryllis was the only thing standing between his life and his death.
“Right.” You say. 
Since agreeing to be his ally, you’ve come to learn a lot about Finnick. Some of it being out of your own curiosity, or maybe because he told you during a vulnerable moment. Other times, it’s because of the behavior you’ve picked up on.
You’ve started to trust Finnick’s judgement regarding situations, because of it. He pays close attention, finds details that you never would have thought about. A few nights ago, you two had hunted down the boy from Seven, because he’d been stomping around the area.
Finnick saw the cuts on his hands and arms, the way he’d been limping. Once you killed the boy, Finnick led you to a cliffside, one that you could only pass if you climbed it. You were sure that no one would be stupid enough, but Finnick was convinced. And he was right. For the first few feet up the cliff, it was normal. The further you look, there was dried blood smeared across the sharpest rocks.
You thought that would be the end of it, knowing where he’d come from, how he’d managed to hit his hands and arms. You’d assumed that Seven hurt his ankle from falling or jumping down. Either way, the area was safe again, and you wanted to go back to the cave.
This is when you found out that Finnick has little to no regard for his life. Despite seeing the injuries that Seven had gotten from this cliffside, he wanted to see if there was anything at the top that you two could have. You tried to tell him that it was a bad idea, and before you could stop him, he was starting up the wall.
In his defense, it wasn’t that bad of an idea. Seven had a sponsor gift or two, which Finnick tossed down to you at the bottom. It wasn’t the first time he’d pulled a stunt like that, you were surprised that he kept doing it, though.
Him wanting to take on both Career tributes from One makes sense, when you think about that. It’s more dangerous to take two tributes that genuinely scored ten, versus Amaryllis, who’s just by herself. You have to give him some credit too, he has the tools to be able to do it without batting an eye.
That net that he has is made out of the rope you’d gotten in your backpack from the Cornucopia. When you gave it to him, his face lit up, and the first thing he did was weave it. It’s proved useful so far, it’s how he was able to kill the boy from Ten and the girl from Three.
So, as much as you’d like to make Finnick switch with you, you can’t do it. You understand his feelings towards Amaryllis to a certain extent. And since he’ll be able to take out the One tributes the easiest, you have to let it go. After all, you do trust his judgement.
When the sun has finally set outside, you and Finnick gather your belongings and leave the cave. It’s well-hidden, no one seems to be interested in venturing this far away from the center, wanting to be able to raid the Cornucopia each time the Careers leave. 
As for you and Finnick, you haven’t gone back since the first day, and it’s been almost three weeks. There hasn’t been a need to, you both have the weapons you could ask for, and you have an endless supply of food coming from your sponsors. The only reason why you’re going now, is because the pool of tributes have narrowed.
The Careers are going to split up any day now, and it’ll be harder to keep track of where they are that way. This is why you started brainstorming ideas on how to kill them. You’ve gone through a lot of plans, many of which you never ended up telling Finnick, because they were dramatic and stupid. You want something straight-forward that’ll progress the Games without the Gamemakers interfering.
There’s eight tributes left in the arena. You and Finnick waited long enough to let the Capitol do their family interviews, because it’s a favored tradition. If everything goes according to plan, you’ll kill the rest of the Careers, leaving five. You and Finnick, and three nobodies that shouldn’t be too hard to find out.
You’re assuming that the two of you are either going to hunt down or wait for them to die on their own, but it’s never been discussed. Actually, neither of you have even talked about what happens when it comes down to the final few. You two are going to have to split eventually, and that means having to kill each other.
In fairness, you haven’t thought about it much, yourself. You’ve decided to focus on the present, getting over the hurdles before thinking about how it will end. It was a good choice to ally with Finnick, the problem is that you’ve come to like him a lot more than you intended to. You were supposed to strictly be allies, you weren’t supposed to end up making a friend out of him.
As bad as this sounds, that will not stop you. Finnick is not enough for you to give up your life. You have your family back home to take care of. Your reasons mean something, too.
Still, if you end up winning this, you’ll never forget about him.
The hill doesn’t take that long to reach. At the top, the two of you take a breather, you’ve got a long couple hours ahead of you. The Cornucopia isn’t visible in the daytime, but especially not now with how dark it is. 
You point in the general direction you’d come from the first day, which is slightly diagonal to the right. “It’s about three hours that way, I believe. What way did you say you took?”
Finnick motions to the left. “That way. I ran right into the woods for a while, and then I went left and kept in that direction. There’s a valley between the cliff and the hill, led me a mile or two from the river.”
You nod. “Let’s just go straight from here, the Cornucopia will be on our right side.”
Finnick leads the way down the hill, he offers his hand to you to help you down the first steep steps. When he lets go, you follow behind him wordlessly. From what you’ve discovered, Finnick was on the left side of the mouth of the Cornucopia, while you were directly facing it. There’s a good chance he saw you fighting Hunter, but you think he might’ve mentioned it if that were the case.
When you told him that you killed Hunter, it was a couple days later. He was asking you if you were upset from losing him, because you hadn’t said much since agreeing to be his ally. That’s when you said that you were the one that ended his life, and no, you weren’t upset over his death.
He was surprised, you thought it was because of the news you delivered. Now that you’re thinking about it, you think he might’ve meant if it was because you killed him, not the other way around.
There’s obviously been some miscommunication, you wonder if that changed the way he thought of you or not.
The night wears on you, the longer you walk for. You can’t help yawning, wiping underneath your eyes, trying to wake yourself up. You knew you’d regret suggesting to do this in the middle of the night. You can’t back out now, though. Even if you did stop to sleep and wait for tomorrow night, you wouldn’t be comfortable. You’re too close to the Careers for your liking.
You push through, and make it there an hour and a half later. You manage to spot the top of the golden horn through a patch in the trees. You and Finnick stop walking, realizing how close you’d gotten by accident.
“We’ll set a fire over there.” You tell him, looking to the left. 
You follow his steps, and once you’ve walked five minutes away, the two of you begin to snap branches and place them in a pile. When you’ve got a good amount started, you dig through your bag to find the firestarter. You thought it’d be useless, considering you never felt safe to use it. It’s coming in handy now.
You crouch down, looking up at Finnick. “I’ll try to take Amaryllis back to the Cornucopia.”
“And I’ll take them further this way.” He nods. “We’ve got this.”
“I hope so.” You say.
In a quick motion, you scrape the flint rod against the flat piece, watching as sparks jump off, straight at the wood. It takes you two more times before a flame has started. You blow gently, watching as it grows, eating away. You reach into your bag, pulling out your knife, and tightening the backpack on your shoulders.
Finnick offered to take it, you didn’t want to risk his life like that. Besides, you’ve grown attached to the bag, and it’s carrying valuables. He’ll end up ripping it while fighting. You’re just going to throw the damn thing out of reach to make it easier.
You get back to your feet, backing away from Finnick. He’s going to be the main bait, standing where the Careers can see them. You’ll throw the knife at Amaryllis, and she’ll turn her attention to you. You and Finnick will split, kill them, and then go back to the cave.
This is going to be easy.
The flame grows higher with each passing minute, until it reaches its peak. It’s right around the same time you hear the running, the sound of multiple people coming in your direction. You prop the machete up against the tree, fixing the knife in your hand.
Sure enough, they come through the trees wildly, not caring if they were to scare away the rogue tribute. They’ll just chase them down. The first person to bound out is the boy from One, holding a very long sword, deathly sharp. His counterpart follows, with Amaryllis coming out last, slowing down.
Finnick’s on the other side of the flame, net in one hand, trident in the other. From where you’re hidden, it looks like he holds all the power here. His age doesn’t matter. He’s the one that set the fire, he’s the one with the expensive weapon, he’s the one that will be taking them down. They mean nothing.
“What are you, stupid?” The boy sputters, sharing a laugh with the girl next to him. Amaryllis doesn’t find the humor, shaking her head. “This is why we didn’t let you join, you would’ve killed us.”
“I’m going to kill you, anyway.” Finnick says, expressionless.
“Oh—” The girl starts, Finnick turns sharply on his heel, taking off into the darkness. 
They jerk forward to chase after him. You draw your arm back and whip it forward, letting go of the knife. It slams into Amaryllis’ back right shoulder, she shouts, hand reaching for it as she turns.
You smile, swiping the machete at your side, and beginning to run to the Cornucopia. From what you could see, she didn’t have a weapon with her. An odd choice, maybe she left it by accident.
She chases you, that’s all that matters. She’s fast, too. You thought that the tributes from Four were supposed to be excellent swimmers, not runners, too. You manage to stay ahead of her, breaking through the trees and bushes as you reach the meadow. 
Just like you said you would, you swing the bag off of your body, throwing it out of the way, turning to face Amaryllis. She continues to barrel at you, disregarding the weapon in your hand. You swing upwards at her, she barely moves her body in time to avoid the blade.
You try for her stomach, but she pulls a knife out of her belt. Your blade clashes with her small one, and the momentum is enough to send your machete into the air. You let it go, punching her in the face with your left hand. The pain in your knuckles is immediate, her head snaps to the side.
You grab her wrist, wanting to get the knife. Her free hand locks around yours, you place your other hand on the back handle of the knife. The tip of your boot hooks around the back of her foot, and with one sudden pull on that foot, she falls back, pulling you on top of her.
The knife—which you were hoping would stab her on the landing—misses, sticking into the dirt, all the way down to the hilt. Amaryllis throws you off, you land on your back. As you’re getting back to your feet, you see the machete. You reach to grab it, and a slicing pain goes through your palm.
“Fuck!” You scream.
The knife is now lodged in your hand. You grip your wrist, squeezing tightly, teeth grit. What do you do? Do you take it out? You can’t just leave it in, can you? You look to Amaryllis, and find that she’s run off to go inside of the Cornucopia. Likely to find more weapons to puncture you with.
You can’t leave it. You’ll start bleeding, but you can’t let it slice your hand up entirely. You take a few quick breaths, and pull the knife out of your hand. It’s a blinding white pain, you fall back onto one of your knees, leaned over, tears forming in your eyes. When you look at the wound, you can see the dirt and grass sticking out of it.
You’re going to be sick.
The sound of wind whistling makes you hit the ground without thinking first. The sound fades, you look over your shoulder to see Amaryllis with a spear, tilting her head at you. You throw the knife back at her, sweeping up the machete in your left hand to head into the Cornucopia before she can retaliate.
“How old are you again?” She asks.
“I’m going to kill you.” You tell her.
“You must be Finnick’s age, if he trusts you so much.” She says. “He couldn’t kill me himself?”
“Shut up.” You tell her, swinging at the spear. She tries to block, you yank it from her hands, slashing at her side. You get her pretty nastily, it’s deep.
The two of you go back and forth, with her switching weapons frequently, and you trying to take her down with the machete. She gets you a few more times with the knives she can get her hands on, but her aim isn’t perfect. She misses most of the throws, and it has something to do with the fact that you got her good shoulder.
At home, they teach you to fight with both hands. District Four must not think it’s important.
You get her cornered in the back, and instead of saying anything to her, you simply swing at her throat. She must’ve anticipated this, because she charges forward, not caring about dodging. For a second, you think that she and Finnick must come from the same family tree with the blatant disregard for their lives.
And then the hidden knife in her hand slams into your stomach, right as you stab her through the throat. She pulls up on the weapon slightly, blood dripping out of the corner of her lip. You stumble back. She can’t move, the other end of your blade is stuck in the golden Cornucopia, still soft from the day’s heat.
You reach to touch the wound with your good hand needles jabbing into your abdomen when you move the knife by accident. You cry, face twisting in pain. You sit on a box. You shouldn’t take it out, but Finnick will be here soon to regroup, he can stitch you then. 
There were two cannons during your fight with Amaryllis, and they were far apart enough for you to think that it had to be the One tributes. He killed the girl, made it back to the male tribute almost ten minutes later, and then killed him, too. 
Removing this knife sets your body on fire. The black spots eat away at the corner of your vision, the knife slipping from your hand. You try to catch yourself on the wall, but your knees are jelly. The dizziness wins.
You wake up on the ground, somehow holding yourself up with your good hand. A cannon blasts, you glance over your shoulder to look at Amaryllis, and the bloody mess that you made. Her entire front half is soaked in blood. Her eyes are on you.
“(Y/n)!”
It’s Finnick, he’s close. You try to get up, and then fall back to your knees. You can’t let him see Amaryllis. It’ll be awful for his mentality. It’ll be better if you lie, and you think you might do that about the wound on your hand.
You rock forward, using a box to get to your feet. On the way out of the Cornucopia, you grab a new machete. You have your bad hand on your stomach, taking shallow breaths to keep it from hurting too bad. Your hand is throbbing. You aren’t going to be able to hide it from him.
When you get to your backpack, you unzip, bringing out your jacket to wear. While you’re zipping it up, Finnick comes out of the trees, trident in hand. He looks worried for a moment, but he slows down.
“(Y/n)! Did you do it?”
“Yeah.” You force a smile. “It’s done. What about you?”
“Both of them are dead. I left the net because I couldn’t untangle his body.”
“We’ll make a new one.” You wave him off, “Let’s get going.”
“Where’s her body?” He asks.
You press your lips together. “It’s inside of the Cornucopia. I don’t think you want to see it, Finnick. I tried to keep it clean but I couldn’t.”
He nods, “Okay.” he jerks his head to the side.
“You lead the way.” You tell him.
And with that, no question as to why you’ve got a hand beneath your jacket, or why it’s darkening in color, the two of you start back to the hill. For the first hour, you think that you can handle the pain, it hurts but as soon as you get to the cave, he can wash it out and properly assess it. You think you’ll even be able to use the healing cream that the sponsors sent him when he got hurt from the cliffside.
It grows increasingly obvious that you will not make the six hour walk. Finnick asks about your hand, and he stops to use some of the drinking water to rinse it out. You make up an excuse about getting cut, that’s why you decided to put the jacket on. He doesn’t seem to care.
Once you reach the hill, you try to ask him if you can go through the valley instead, not wanting to go up the hill because of the pain. He gives you a look, not taking you seriously. You follow behind him, taking your time because you think you can ignore the pain and push through.
At the top, you’re hit with a headrush.
You shudder on the ground, fingers squishing around in the bloody wound on your stomach. When you look down, you see that it’s begun to spread onto your pants, staining them the same maroon color.
“(Y/n)?” Finnick asks, “What’s the matter?”
“It’s nothing, I just gotta—” A sharp pain hits the area, you grunt, biting into your lip, hard.
“Let me see.” He tells you. You try to dodge his hands, but he’s serious. He grabs the zipper, yanking it down.
With the help of the moonlight, Finnick gets an eyeful of the wound you’ve hidden for the past three hours. Like a vampire, it’s taken over a liter of blood. At the sight of it all, the lightheadedness gets worse. You struggle not to vomit.
“Oh my god,” He looks at your face. “You told me it was a cut.”
You force a smile.
“(Y/n), this isn’t funny. Why didn’t you say anything at the Cornucopia?”
“I thought it’d be fine.” 
He looks behind him, in the direction you came. You’re sitting right in the middle of the six hours. No matter what way he goes, it’ll take him a while to get there.
“You thought this would be fine?” He asks you, shaking his head. “Are you kidding?”
“Does it look like I’m kidding?” You shoot back, a spasm of pain makes you take in a sharp breath, closing your eyes. “Just go, Finnick. Now’s the time.”
“The time for what? I’m not going anywhere.”
“We’re down to five.” You look at him. “We can split up. Or better, you can kill me.” You reach out, grabbing his arm, smearing blood on his tanned skin.
His face twists. “You want me to kill you?”
“This is what you wanted. This is the whole reason why you became my ally.”
Finnick’s shaking his head dramatically, “That’s not true. I lied to you, I thought you knew that.”
You close your eyes, trying to remember the conversation you had with him. It’s not coming to you. You can’t focus. “Whatever.”
“(Y/n), you were the only one in that gymnasium that ignored me. You didn’t care about my sponsors or how I looked.” He tells you.
“Then leave me.” You squeeze his arm. “If you can’t kill me, then go.”
“I can’t do that.”
You sigh.
“Can’t you see? You’re the only one I trust here.” Finnick tells you. “You had plenty of opportunities to kill me. And you stayed with me instead. I can’t do this without you.”
He’s not going to listen. You swallow thickly, “Fine.”
“Okay,” He tries to pull away, but you don’t let go. “Let go so I can get you on your feet.”
“I can’t make that walk, and you’re not going to be able to carry me.” You say. “So, go get some water and the healing cream. I’ll stay here.”
Finnick’s eyebrows draw in. “That’s not happening.”
“What’s your big plan, then?” You snap, “Listen to me, I can’t move. Just go, I’ll stay here. We have no one to worry about.”
He stares at you, thinking about it himself. “I’ll leave you my shirt and jacket, and you can put it over the area. That’ll help slow the blood, right?”
“Right.” You agree.
He takes off the jacket and his shirt, coming to place them beneath yours. You place a hand on top of the lump of clothing.
“I’m going to be quick.” He tells you. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.” You murmur. “Thank you, Finnick.”
“Don’t thank me, not yet.” He grabs his trident. “Just hold on, okay?”
You can’t say anything else, because he’s already started running down the hill. You close your eyes, resting the back of your head on the backpack. He didn’t grab the plastic bottle for water. He probably won’t even notice.
You reach up your shirt, pulling the clothes out, letting them fall next to you. In the academy, they teach you many things, including when to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to make it out of the arena alive. In special occasions like this, where you’ve escaped a fight or accidentally severely injured yourself, you can have hope at the beginning, but too much can kill you.
This is why you don’t hold on to your life.
You let it get taken from you, one aspect at a time. The idea of winning the Games, seeing your family again, becoming an infamous victor. The hardest one to let go is Finnick, who’s running for his life to make it to that cave in time before you drift away.
You hold onto one idea, which comforts you during your last breaths.
Your actions tonight will be the reason why Finnick wins the Hunger Games.
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sorchathered · 4 months
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Dream Come True
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Pairing- Bob Floyd/reader
Warnings-maybe language? It’s just straight fluff with maybe a twinge of angst.
Summary- reader can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore, Bob is an absolute dreamboat.
The Hard Deck is completely packed, everyone is off for the holiday weekend and it couldn’t be more overwhelming. You and Bob have hunkered down in a corner booth near the pool tables, nursing your beers while you watch the rest of the squad attempt to take on Hangman and Coyote at what is sure to be another devastating loss.
Bob comes back from the bar with more peanuts as you notice a few girls at the bar looking at him like he could be their next meal, and in true Bob fashion, he is absolutely clueless at just how hot he actually is. Just as charming as Rooster, and definitely just as handsome as Hangman; but the shy soft spoken man in front of you seems completely unaware of the looks he gets every time he steps into Penny’s bar. It’d almost be funny if you weren’t also one of the girls vying for his attention and getting absolutely nowhere.
“Goodness it sure is busy tonight, those girls couldn’t have gotten closer to me if they tried” he said, and you can’t help but throw your head back and laugh at how oblivious he was.
He quirks an eyebrow in your direction as you settle down with a deep sigh.
“You really don’t know the effect you have on people do you?” You say, mostly to yourself shaking your head with a smile, staring at your beer instead of at the bewildered WSO sitting next to you.
“Wha- Who? Me?!” Bob is beet red now, looking absolutely anywhere but at your face.
“Yes you! They were practically throwing themselves at you goofball!” Facepalming and erupting in giggles at the shock on his face.
He’s laughing with you in earnest now, but you can tell he still doesn’t quite believe you.
“Well that’s awful sweet of them darlin’ but I’ve got everything I need right here” reaching across the table and patting your hand, lingering a little longer than normal for two people who are supposedly just friends.
It’s always been like this, ever since the two of you met in the academy almost a decade ago. Sure you’ve both dated other people, but it never goes anywhere. Everyone always jokes that you’ll be married with a brood of kids one day and it gets passed off with an awkward laugh and quick subject change.
One of you is going to have to have the courage to breach whatever this is; a crush, sexual tension, love? Oh God shut up brain don’t get ahead of yourself…you’re smarter than this, if he had wanted you he would have said something by now. You could come out of your skin just thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, be his girlfriend, one day be his wife…
He’s looking at you now, eyebrows furrowed and looking a little worried that maybe the heat has gotten to you after all because you’ve all but spaced out trying to fight the war you’re having internally.
“Sweets if you think any harder your head is gonna explode, what’s going on up there?”
You open your mouth to tell him everything is fine but that is definitely (unfortunately) not what comes flying out.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since we got back to Top Gun, hell probably longer than that and I doubt you feel the same and oh God this is so awkward you know what just forget I ever said anything.” You blurted it out, literal word vomit. Good job genius now he probably thinks you’re nuts.
You can’t stay and look, it’s too hot in your little corner booth and you can feel the walls closing in so you jump up and whisper a half ass apology as you push out through the crowd and mercifully make it through the door.
Gasping in the sea air and trying to regulate your breathing are proving to be difficult now, because omg what the hell were you thinking? You told your colleague (yes he was more like your best friend but nevertheless) Bob Freaking Floyd, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen that you are in love with him and then ran out of the bar like Cinderella at midnight.
While your brain is spinning out of control, you barely notice the door opening behind you, and you certainly didn’t expect to startle as the person that came through the door links his fingers with yours.
It’s him, because of course it is. You knew better than to think you could just drop a bomb like that thinking he would let it go. Taking a deep breath you spin around to his kind face and stupidly perfect blue eyes.
“You done spiraling so we can actually talk about what the hell just happened?” He says, rubbing the back of his neck and for the first time in years you can’t get a read on him. Normally you can clock how he’s feeling from a mile away but this…this is something different.
“Is there any way I can get you to forget it?”
“Not a chance”
“I- fine.”
You open and close your mouth and try to get the words out but there’s only one thing your brain is screaming at you.
3 words, 8 letters. You say it to him in your head every day, when he’s sharing his snacks with you during Mav’s long lectures, when you are watching whatever sci fi show he’s currently obsessing over and his rambling commentary has you laughing at his nerdiness, when he sees a dog in public and immediately has to burst out for you to look at the puppy and you completely swoon over him because he may be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
Just say it. Life is too damn short. Especially in your line of work.
“I love you Robby. If it screws everything up between us and we can’t move on from this I get it, but I can’t keep it in anymore I-I’m sorry.” You’re staring at your feet now, starting to wish you could just teleport to another place or jump in whatever Time Machine exists in his shows to go back to before this ever happened.
But Bob? Robert Floyd, man of your dreams? He’s not phased or shaken, not one bit. He leans in, pulls your face in with both his hands and kisses you like it’s something the two of you have always done, like it should be completely obvious to you that he’s always felt this way, he was just waiting for you to solve the puzzle yourself.
Pulling away far sooner than you’d like, he has the audacity to chuckle when you try to chase his lips.
“Silly girl, it’s always been you don’t you know that? I was just waitin’ on you to decide what you wanted, now mind you I didn’t think it’d take you this long, but I’d wait forever if it meant we ended up here.”
You let out a watery laugh as more tears stream down your face, Bob quick to swipe them away with his thumb.
“Come on sweets, let me take you home and we can spend all weekend talking about what our forever should look like, because now that I’ve got you I’m not letting you go.”
And you do just that, because he really is everything you ever dreamed.
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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zup
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zup [z·up̚] vin. fall
Anonymous Request: Can I request a fic of Neteyam and the reader getting into a fight and avoiding each other for a couple days, only for the reader to get into a pretty bad accident?
Neteyam is running so fast, he doesn’t feel the ground beneath his feet. His hair whips painfully at his cheeks, but he doesn’t notice. He hears his sister shouting after him, but it only barely registers.
He has one singular thought. One driving motivation. You. Getting to you. Making sure you’re okay. Apologizing for even momentarily acting as if his world does not revolve around you.
He prays he isn’t too late.
2 Days Before the Accident
"You think that I told Ma'rek that I want to be his mate?"
Your mother hangs open, your chin pointed downwards, and you widen your eyes at Neteyam, who stands before you, furious.
"I heard you say it!"
Leaning back, you cross your arms across your chest and scowl at him. "Tell me what you heard, then."
Neteyam crosses his arms, mirroring you, and scowls back. "You told Ma'rek he would make a fine mate, that you'd be honored to have him."
You throw your hands in the air. "You idiot! Ma'rek was just rejected again, I was just trying to make him feel better. I don't actually want to be his mate."
"Well, he's going around telling everyone that you do!"
The rage that rises in your chest is overwhelming, just for a moment. This is what you get for being kind, you get someone lying about you and the man you actually want to mate with believing it.
"If you think that's true, Neteyam, then I don't think we know each other as well as we thought."
He takes a step back, his arms falling down to his side, and his glare does not ease up.
"Maybe not."
You turn, and take off before he can see you cry.
Just Before the Accident
Your all-consuming, painful, burning hot rage has simmered down into mere annoyance, and been mostly overtaken by overwhelming sadness.
It's hard to believe that Neteyam would believe you could have eyes for anyone but him. You have spent your lives together, you have only ever loved one man, and you've told him as much.
You're starting to wonder if maybe, Neteyam doesn't care for you like he thought. Maybe this thing with Ma'rek was just an excuse for him to get out of your courtship, to mate with someone else. Possibly, he's grown tired of you and didn't know how to say it.
After all, he hasn't asked you to be his, not formally. A kiss here and a tight grasp on your hand there hardly indicates a lifelong commitment, and what is he waiting for, anyway? You're nearly 22 years old now. Why not commit or move on?
He hasn't spoken to you since the fight, and even though most of you hopes you will come through this, part of you thinks this could be the end.
You are distracted with these thoughts as you hunt, and it takes just one misstep for you to tumble off of the tree branch you're racing down.
Your body slams into the tree branch below, and all of the air is forced out of your body in a painful huff. The knife you held in your hand cuts you, right in your abdomen, and you roll off of that branch onto the next, and then onto the ground.
With the final fall, you hear a sickening crack, and there is a searing pain in your arm.
"Y/N!" your hunting partner screams from above, but you are fading already. She scarcely has time to reach you before you are gone.
After the Accident
Inside of his, her hand looks so small and delicate. There are scrapes on the back of her hand, and he turns it over to look at her palm. It's dirty, he notices, so he picks up a nearby cloth and gently removes the dirt.
Looking over her - she's dirty everywhere. Though her broken arm and wide gash on her stomach have been healed, she has not been cleaned.
He turns to Kiri, and tells her to go get some warm water and a cloth. Kiri is gone in a flash. Neteyam looks over Y/N as she lays there. Kiri said she would be okay, and he trusts Kiri, but she doesn't look okay.
Not an inch of her doesn't have a bruise or a cut. She lost a lot of blood, and they aren't sure how her arm will function once she recovers - but he knows no one should underestimate her.
Kiri returns, leaving the water and cloth and taking off again after giving Neteyam a reassuring hug.
Meticulously, Neteyam cleans Y/N, gently removing all of the dirt and debris that she collected in her fall. Once her skin is clean, he removes the leaves and dirt from her long braided hair, as best as he can.
All the while, he hates himself for doubting her. He knew Ma'rek was lying, deep down, but he was so scared... and he had been so scared, for nearly two years, to ask her to be his mate.
Now, he can't remember why. If she would just open her eyes now, he would ask.
--
Fingers are running through my hair. That's the first sensation I feel as I regain consciousness.
It is much more pleasant than the sensations that follow. I am sore, over every single part of my body. My arm throbs, and there is a burning pain in my stomach.
A groan involuntarily escapes my lips, and I turn my head to the side. I reach for my stomach with my arm that doesn't hurt, but someone stops me, taking my hand in theirs.
I open my eyes with much effort, and see Neteyam leaning over me.
"Here. Kiri said this would help." He holds up a cup, and puts one hand behind my neck, gently lifting my head so I can drink the warm, bitter liquid inside.
The effect is almost instant in the way it calms me, and I sigh as I lay back down.
"What happened?" I ask.
"I was going to ask you," Neteyam replies. "You fell. Hard."
It comes back to you slowly. Your distraction. How you tripped. The two branches that broke your body before you hit the ground. You wince.
"Really hard. Everything hurts, Neteyam."
"Your knife cut your stomach, and you broke your arm. You're going to make a full recovery, but you need to rest."
You wince, sucking in a sharp breath. "Are you still mad at me?"
A laugh escapes Neteyam's lips, and you glare at him. "I'm sorry - but that's what you're worried about?"
"Yes."
"I'm not mad at you. I never should have been. I love you, Y/N, and I want you to be my mate."
Well, he's picked an opportune time to finally admit it.
"Are you sure?" you ask.
Neteyam's eyes are soft, but you notice the dark circles underneath of them. You wonder how long you've been asleep, and whether he's been here the entire time.
He reaches out, pushing your hair out of your face, and his fingers linger on your cheek.
"I have always been sure. I was just... scared. That you would say no, or that I wouldn't be enough for you. But I thought you were going to die, Y/N, when I first saw you. And I would rather die myself. Life would not be worth living without you."
He leans down, his face hovering just above mine, waiting for permission.
"I love you, Neteyam. Of course, I'll be yours."
The kiss is gentle, because it has to be. Even your lips are cut and bruised. But when he pulls away, he takes a little of your pain and sadness with him.
All will be well.
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