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ultimate-sidemen-imagines · 3 years

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A Not So Happy Anniversary

Title: A Not So Happy Anniversary

Pairing: Reader/Harry

Word Count: 3,151

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT

Summary: You and Harry have a long distance relationship. When Harry messes up and misses your three year anniversary, you confront him face to face.

Author’s Note: Ladies and gents, it feels good to be back. My inbox is open to requests. Let me know what you think!

You were furious with him.

Completely and utterly furious with him.

He had done this to you a million times, you always had forgiven him and moved on. But this? This was definitely something you couldn’t let go.

Both you and Harry had been dating for three years now, not a moment did you regret the decision to date the famous "wroetoshaw" on YouTube. You would be the first one to admit that his fanbase and everything that came with being labeled as his girlfriend terrified you but Harry made it worth it. Thankfully, the both of you had managed to keep your relationship away from the public. Fans not in your personal lives eliminated any unnecessary stress you both didn’t need. You were happy, he was happy. You guys barely fought. But that was about to change tonight.

Harry lived in two places: Guernsey and London. He traveled back between the two constantly which always made you a little bit upset. You understood why he'd want to live in London, of course you did. When you had gone out there with him, even you struggled to leave London once your time was up. A mix of the city life and the fact most of Harry’s friends lived there - it was a no brainer.

But being stranded in Guernsey while Harry was away in London had been the first major roadblock in your relationship. There would be long amounts of time that Harry would be in London, leaving you by yourself at home and missing your boyfriend. He'd always come back eventually and apologize in a shower of kisses. You couldn't help yourself but forgive him but this was too far now.

You stormed off back inside your small little flat, flipping off any guys that whistled at you in your short, black mini-dress while doing so. You had decided to get dressed up since tonight was a pretty big deal - the three year milestone with Harry. Your anniversary was today, something that you had reminded Harry about for two weeks. He promised over and over again that he would be home on time for your anniversary and that he'd meet you at your favorite restaurant for a romantic meal. Long story short, you had been sitting at the table for two hours with no sign of Harry. He'd let you down.

You burst through the front door of your flat, throwing your heels off to the floor and locking the door with both locks. At least that way, Harry couldn't get in if he got there in the morning. You sniffled, feeling yourself now start to get upset more than angry. How could he do this? He promised. You’d always forgiven him for being late to come home before but this just felt like a slap in the face.

A second later, you were at the fridge - taking out a bottle of wine and taking a swig from it. You knew it was stupid to try and numb the pain with alcohol, it would only leave you feeling like shit in the morning. You shook your head and put the bottle away, deciding to just go to bed and forget about Harry until the morning.

It was about half an hour later when you had finally gone to bed, wearing one of Harry’s t-shirts and sweats. You were scrolling through Twitter to see if Harry had written anything yet no tweets came up for today. You were a little concerned at that but once you remembered just why you were angry with them, any feelings of being concerned were out the window. You turned off your phone and placed it on your side table - not being able to avoid the framed photo of you and Harry sitting there. At the sight of it, you quickly turned off your lamp and went to sleep.

"Y/N, Y/N. Baby, wake up." You felt yourself being shaken out of your dream, your name being repeated over and over again. Eventually, your dream of a happy anniversary slipped away and your eyes fluttered open.

You saw a dark figure over you in the bed, causing you to scream out. The figure put his hand over your mouth, trying to reach over to turn on the light as you struggled against his hand. "Babe! Stop! It's me! Harry!" He exclaimed in a loud whisper, turning on the dim lamp light to reveal himself.

You calmed down as soon as you realized it was him, shoving him off you and sitting up in the bed. "For fuck sake Harry, you can't just hover over me in pitch darkness at-" You looked over at the time. "2:30 in the fucking morning!"

"How the hell did you get in here anyway? I locked the front door with both locks." You grumbled, crossing as arms as Harry raised an eyebrow

"Yeah, I noticed that. I had to climb up a floor outside and get in through your window." He motioned the open window before shooting you an amused look. "I told you that you needed to lock your windows."

"And you need to take the hint when I don’t want you in the flat." You grumbled, before grabbing one of your pillows and throwing it at him. "Harold, leave. I don't want to fucking talk to you or even look at you right now."

"C’mon babe, don’t be like that. I know you missed me." He joked, only making the situation worse in pure Harry style. How the hell could he be making jokes and not even acknowledge how badly he had messed up? You just glared at him, shoving him off the edge of your bed and laying back down. "Go to the couch - we’ll talk in the morning when you’re actually ready to have a serious conversation.”

"Baby, come on. I'm joking." He cooed as you just ignored him and tried to go back to sleep. Harry bit his lip and sat back on the bed again next to you, watching your body turn away from him. He took the peaceful moment to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before running a finger down your arm softly.

"Harry, I’ll seriously do something I’ll regret if you don’t get out and give me some space." You seethed, though Harry didn't budge.

"Your threats don't make you scary, babe. You're like a hamster." He teased before he decided to get serious - he knew you'd really kick him out of the flat if he kept pulling jokes as such. "Look I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sorry for what, Harry? Missing our anniversary, maybe? Maybe promising you'd be home yet you didn't come back on time. Really? I always let it go but you crossed a fucking line this time." You shot back at him.

"My flight got delayed, okay?" Harry admitted in defeat. "The plane was having engine failure so we couldn't take off in time. I had to sit on that plane for ages, I only just landed an hour ago." He said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. "I'm really sorry that I missed our dinner. I'll make it up to you, okay? Please don't be angry with me. It’s not my fault that Gatwick is proper shit."

"No Harry, I will be angry at you." You said annoyed, still refusing to turn your body towards him. "Okay fair enough, your flight got pushed back far. But you could've come back to Guernsey days ago so you wouldn't miss our anniversary or maybe actually spend some time with me - but no. You're too busy partying it up in London with all your friends and all the girls that probably want to sleep with you the first chance they get. I know there’s gonna be one day where you just don’t come back to Guernsey for me and that’ll be the end of us."

"Babe, where is all this coming from? You know when we started dating that I said I’d be travelling back and forth." Harry frowned, knowing your anger was coming from something more than him missing dinner tonight. He hated to see you aggravated over this topic. Especially when all his friends knew just how much he loved you and how loyal he was. He knew that you weren’t exactly the biggest fan of the amount of female attention he received online. He understood that. But it did bother him seeing you truly believe that he’d never come back home to you one day. “What makes you think I’d ever do anything like that to you?”

"I’m just scared, Harry." You whispered back at him. "I'm very scared of what could happen while you're in London while I'm stuck here." You closed your eyes and tried to block everything out. Until you felt him turn you on your back. You opened your eyes slowly to look up at Harry hovering over you. You felt your heart skip a beat looking up at him in the dim light. Even when you were upset and mad with him, he still had the power to take your breath away.

"You're mad, you know that? Absolutely crazy." Harry stated, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. "You think I'd get bored of you? Seriously? Take a look in the fucking mirror, Y/N." He teased you before he returned to neutral. “Whatever I’ve done to make you believe any of what you just said? I’m so sorry, babe. The last three years I’ve had with you have been the best of my life. I would never violate you like that.”

“You know I also work in London too - doing all the Sidemen shoots and videos. I’m building that brand more and more to make sure that I can always come home whenever I want. I’m doing it so that we can live comfortably, that I can take you on holidays and help you pay for this place while I’m away. Never once have I been in London and not missed you, Y/N. I know I’m definitely far from perfect but I won’t let you think that I don’t love you. Cause I do, so fucking much.”

He leaned down and placed kisses down the side of your face - pressing a quick peck on your lips before moving down to your neck.

"I fucking hate you sometimes." You insulted, gasping when you felt him leave love bites on the certain spot on your neck that drove you crazy. You snaked a hand into his hair when he did so, feeling yourself wanting him more rather than wanting to punch him back to London.

"I sincerely doubt that you hate me right now." He said in a cocky tone, pulling his head back to admire the hickies he had left on your neck and smirking down at you.

"Shut the fuck up." You growled, grabbing his fistful of his jumper and pulling his face back down to yours. You slammed your lips back against his, the whole action coming from both anger at him missing your anniversary dinner and lust at the same time. You knew there was love in your actions as well but you were more focused on other things at hand.

Harry did a pretty good job at keeping up with the pace of your lips against his, deepening it and taking the moment to nip at your bottom lip. You moaned softly at that before your hands were underneath his clothes, practically ripping them off him and throwing them off to the side. He did the same with you, the both of you continuing to keep your lips together almost like it was a form of life source.

It wasn't long before the couple were now fully naked, Harry's body pressing against yours as you made out. Something about his skin pressed against yours always gave you a funny feeling in your stomach - such a warm and safe feeling. You knew that you loved this boy after three years of dating, you only hoped you'd be able to communicate that through this.

Harry pulled back after a while, leaning over to the bedside table to retrieve a condom while you placed kisses along his neck. You made sure to leave your own marks on his skin. He grabbed one quickly enough and groaned at your hickies, pulling himself off to you long enough to roll the condom onto himself. You felt your eyes gleam at the sight of your fit boyfriend in his most vulnerable state. You completely understood why she got so jealous of him being away from you - he was such a gorgeous boy.

Your boyfriend was back on you a second later, continuing to make-out with you again as he settled himself between your legs. You wrapped your legs around his waist to keep him close, eventually both of you pulling away for air. There were no words uttered between the two, speaking with your eyes and facial expressions. The rough lust and anger had faded away now to a soft kindness and love that you felt whenever you were near Harry. You smiled at him as he returned the favor before pushing into you without another second wasted.

"Oh!" You moaned, leaning your head back against the pillows as he did so. It had been awhile for you both, having been ages since he was last home. You had definitely missed this. "Harry," You breathed out as he let out a long sigh, getting used to the feeling of being back inside you before he started to set a pace. “Feel so good around me, baby. Fuck I missed you.”

"Harry," You moaned louder this time, going up in volume the faster he went. "Harder, baby." You urged him on, hearing a type of groan and growl leave from his lips. He buried his face into your neck as he continued to thrust faster, leaving more hickies on the other side of your neck.

"Oh fuck yes." He grunted against your skin, his words only bringing back that fluttery feeling in your stomach. "My gorgeous girlfriend. Even when you’re angry at me, you’re still so fucking hot.” He whispered, lifting his head up from your neck to look at you in the eyes while he fucked you. “No-one can have you, you hear me? You're mine." He whispered, taking one of his hands to wrap around your neck. Not too tight but enough to send your mind spiraling.

"Oh fuck Harry!" You cried out at this, your hands going straight to his shoulders. You dug your fingernails into his skin, dragging them down his pale back as you struggled to get your words out. "You're mine, Lewis. You're mine and I'm yours." You choked out, gasping and moaning out a version of his name at every thrust.

"Damn right." He growled, eventually turning you both over so you were on top of him. He kept control despite the change in position, angling his hips up and holding your hips to keep you steady. He kept doing that for a while, just smirking at hearing the porn-worthy noises that came past your lips. That smirk wiped away however when he felt his thrusts starting to falter, Harry coming closer and closer to his orgasm just like you.

"Oh baby, I'm so close." You whispered, clutching onto him as she felt her high nearing. Harry only smirked at this, trying to go as fast as he could in that moment. He sat up from the mattress, keeping a hold on your hips. He kissed you, "Go on baby, come for me. I wanna hear you." He growled against your lips. That was your breaking point.

"Harry!" You practically screamed, reaching orgasm. It was incredible the types of orgasms Harry gave to you, they always left you speechless and shaking. You heard strangled groans of your name come from Harry, feeling him reach his orgasm too. You kept rocking your hips against his as you both worked each other through your orgasms - eventually stopping when Harry pulled out. He collapsed down onto the mattress, bringing you down with him and holding you against him.

You were left a panting mess, resting against Harry’s body and your head on his chest. All that could be heard was your and Harry's panting, both of your eyes closed to take in what just happened before Harry motioned you to look at him.

"You still mad at me?" Harry asked sweetly after a while, “I don’t know how you could be after that.”

"Oh shut up." You rolled your eyes playfully, enjoying his laughter before you pecked his lips.

"Still - I still think something needs to change, Harry." You admitted, gaining Harold's attention. "I mean... I... I love you, I do. And I want to be with you. But you’re in London constantly. I can’t even travel to see you that often because of university. If I’m just barely going to see you, I can't deal with that. I need a compromise."

Harry thought about what you said for a moment, placing a small kiss to your forehead. "You're right. I will admit that I love London more than Guernsey but I love you more than anything." He admitted to you, nothing left but love filling his beautifully colored eyes of his. "So let's fix the problem. When you graduate from uni, come back to London with me."

"What?" You asked, confused.

"Come back with me to London, move in with me and Cal. We never have to be apart that way." He cooed. "I can talk to the guys about letting me come back to Guernsey every couple weeks or so to see you more rather than what I have been doing until you finish school. But when you finish, I want you to move out to London to stay with me permanently. I want to have you there for everything. None of this long distance bullshit. Especially if it’s making you doubt me. I want you with me. To prove to you that you never had anything to be scared about.”

It was definitely a lot for you to take in, moving from your small little town to the big city of the UK. You were nervous about thinking of starting a life there but as you looked at Harry and saw that future involved him - it became a no brainer.

"We'll talk about it properly in the morning, okay? For now, let’s get some sleep. Especially since you gotta make up for missing today." You said softly with a smile, pecking his lips before laying your head back on his chest.

"So after the morning sex?" Harry teased, making you roll your eyes and hitting him with the nearest pillow as his laughter vibrated throughout the whole flat.

Yep. London sounded pretty good.

#wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry lewis smut #wroetoshaw smut #w2s #sidemen #sidemen smut #sidemen imagines #imagines #harry imagine #youtube #smut

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orionsangel86 · 3 years

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But this makes no sense because we know that Cas was cut from the finale. This is FACT.--- interesting how you say FACT but don't follow up with any proofs. The source talking to Min about the finale days before it aired (and giving accurate info about it) confirmed the the 5 days of filming that Misha was talking about is false, because Cas wasn't even in the first draft. His story was officially over.

The source who confirmed to MIN (ha) before the finale aired (so November) said that Cas wasn’t in the first draft... so that source is calling MISHA a liar right? MISHA?

Because the source of the 5 days is MISHA himself. From M&Gs in MARCH.

Right let me try and sort out this timeline for y’all because you really will just believe anything some random source from a known fandom manipulator and liar is telling you sure.

*rubs temples*

March 2020

A “reputable and well like actor/cast member” told fans either at a Feb/March convention or something similar at the time that they were nervous because the finale script was still not complete, the writers were “frantically rewriting” due to requests for changes from higher ups. There was tension and discomfort among cast and crew that the finale script wouldn’t be complete in time for filming (which at that point was still only 2 weeks away before they shut down for covid) (the source of this is doing the internet rounds and has been since before summer from what I can tell. Its not new.)

15x18 filmed, “sources” at the time confirm to fans that there is a destiel scene and confirm that Cas dies but also that Cas is in the finale.

Sources also confirm that there was a small send off to the cast due to breaking up for covid. No one at the time said anything about this being a goodbye send off to Misha/Cas. It was a pre lockdown goodbye. Misha was supposed to still come back.

At a March Con, there are 2 Misha M&Gs. In 1 of them, Misha confirms Cas dies in 18 and that he was happy with the way Cas went. He also confirms that he will be back for the finale, but doesn’t elaborate. When asked if he thinks we will like the finale, he hesitates before saying it could go “one of two ways”. Read into that as you will.

The other M&G Misha confirms basically the same thing, but is pressed on his return to film. Misha confirms he expects to return to film for a further 5 days.

It is worth noting that Misha at this con was emotionally drained and “not himself” according to fans.

Everyone assumes that Misha being “not himself” at the con was because he was sad Cas dies, but he kept saying that he was happy with Cas’s death and proud of it. So I doubt that is what was bothering Misha. Could it be that he was aware of the constant finale script changes and he knew that there was fuckery going on even at that point which was putting his return into uncertainty?

Summer 2020 (Lockdown)

Misha confirms over zoom call with Michael Sheen that he is returning to film the finale. He also talks about grabbing Cas’s trenchcoat before he left because he was worried he might not come back again due to the pandemic and he wanted to keep Cas’s coat - also fits with the theory that maybe Misha was worried/ unsure if his role in the finale was safe at that point - but worth noting that as of August 2020 Misha was still being kept on tenderhooks about his role in the finale.

November 2020 (SPN returns and the narrative changes)

Suddenly all the “sources” have changed their story. One source confirms that Cas is no longer returning. Specifically says to someone who I trust that he was supposed to be in 20 but wasn’t anymore, but there are some clips of his voice in one of the episodes) (I didn’t want to believe this at first when I got this info before 19 aired but god I wish I’d listened.)

Please note that this source was correct about the voice stuff and also confirmed that he WAS initially in 20 but got cut.

Misha films a goodbye and thankyou video for the CW, reasserting the narrative that 18 was his last episode and suddenly there is all this confirmation that the goodbye cast party for lockdown was “for Misha” all along (it wasn’t).

Misha speaks to a fan and when asked about the script changes, he talks about coming back as Jimmy Novak for around “half a day” but that it wasn’t worth the quarantine. Fandom goes mad.

Misha also says that the finale was supposed to have a big reunion in 20 with the roadhouse crew and lots of Deans loved ones (but not Cas). Sam Ferris goes OFF on Twitter confirming this is bullshit. (I do NOT believe Misha lied here, I think that he was repeating a lie someone else told him as an excuse for him not returning.)

Jackles silently seethes in sexy sexy silence.

So, here is all the info I have and know about Misha and Cas being cut. You don’t have to believe me. I honestly don’t care if you do or not. But this is what I believe and nothing you or anyone (and certainly not a known fandom manipulator trying to twist the narrative to make them seem like an all knowing “i was right all along” type) can say will change this.

This info in my opinion all adds up to Cas initially being a big part of the script in initial drafts, then getting cut more and more due to network meddling and a desire to remove any Destiel ambiguity/keep focus on Sam/brother bond.

My own personal narrative (simply because the visual brings me joy and I’m clinging to it) is that Cas was cut completely in a version of the script around early summer, which leads to Jensen going OFF at everyone demanding they bring Misha back for the finale, so the writers add him in as Jimmy Novak as an attempt to satisfy Jensen, honour Misha, and satisfy the Network who at this point has told them NO CAS. Misha gets this version of the script (possibly the first version he has actually seen) and turns it down (probably because he sees it as a huge insult and tells them to fuck off as he should). Jensen then spends every hour of every day since only gushing about 15x18 and keeping silent or subtley throwing shade at the finale.

(To be clear I have made up the above paragraph because the concept is hilarious to me and Jackles sexy silence and fierce protection of Misha gives me life, but you gotta admit its in character and is the only explanation I can come up with for the absolutely ridiculous idea of bringing Misha back as Jimmy Novak)

Look, we are never gonna know the truth, but I have been holding onto the information from March for a whole year. The only thing that got me through the summer knowing Cas was dying in 18 was this mantra:

“Cas will be back Misha is filming 20 Cas will be back Misha films for 5 days Cas will be back because Misha is filming Misha has 5 days to film he’ll be a big part of the episode Cas will be back...”

Literally ALL SUMMER this was my brain so DO NOT tell me the information I clung on to for months was false. It was NOT false, it was the truth in March. It just wasn’t the truth any more in November thanks to a meddling asshole network and writers and execs who didn’t care enough to fight back.

I will NOT be gaslit by this November false narrative.

#spn conspiracy theories #castiel #destiel #anti spn finale #the randic nutwork #fuck the november narrative change #don't believe the bullshit #asks #anon #Anonymous

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luminescencefics · 4 years

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stubborn love

Ask and you shall receive! Here’s a little blurb about this post, filled with an angsty y/n and an adorably dimwitted Harry. Oh yeah, also smut. Enjoy!

2.6k word count

My masterlist // read below:

***

If there was one thing about you that Harry hated, it was how stubborn you were. And if there was one thing about Harry that drove you absolutely mad, it was when he left arguments incomplete—choosing the easy way out instead of finishing the conversation you ultimately started.

It was with good cause, though. After being together for three years, the little things started to surface every now and then. And with the aid of liquor coursing through both of your veins, it was only a matter of time until a fight started.

They never lasted long. And it was usually cured by sex, but sometimes, Harry did things that drove you absolutely bonkers, leaving you wanting to punish him a bit. Like tonight, for example, when you had to remind him three times that he had to be ready by eight o’clock in order to make it to your best friend’s birthday dinner on the other side of town. You watch by the vanity as you finish applying your nude lipstick, observing how he scrolled through his phone aimlessly on the bed with just a towel wrapped around his waist. His outfit was laid out beside him, his hair still wet from the shower he had recently gotten out of, and the time on the clock read 7:42.

“Harry, please get dressed. We’re supposed to be out the door in five minutes,” you remind him, sitting on the bed beside him while you buckle the strap of your heel around your exposed ankle. He nods absentmindedly while texting Jeff about scheduling radio interviews for the upcoming album, seemingly ignoring what you were telling him.

“Harry.”

Your tone is laced with annoyance now, and immediately his eyes snap over towards yours, taking in your completed look for the first time since slipping on the black dress you decided to wear this evening. His eyes rake your body instantly, and because of the years you’ve been with him, you know exactly what he’s thinking already. But you don’t have time for this, and when you stand up abruptly and saunter towards the door, you try to ignore the pout he shoots in your direction.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” he says slowly, sitting up straight and facing the door you were currently standing in.

“Harry, please just get dressed! I promised Catherine we’d be there early,” you say tightly, giving him a pointed look until he surrenders and gets off the bed, reaching for his briefs in the dresser on the other side of the bedroom.

“Jesus, what is with you always needing to be early? You know Catherine’s always late, anyways,” Harry says in a clipped tone, shoving his long legs through the navy trousers laid out on the bed.

“Don’t start. This is important to me, and I don’t need your lack of time management ruining Catherine’s birthday dinner that I’ve been planning for weeks.” You knew that you were being a bit over dramatic, but the stress of making your high-maintenance best friend happy was weighing down on you. Coupled with the fact that Harry was leaving again for a few months, you were under a lot of stress to make everybody happy.

“What do you mean ‘lack of time management?!’ We’re talking about Catherine for Christ’s sakes! The girl who showed up late to almost every event you’ve hosted in the past two years! I think she’ll manage us being a couple of minutes late.” Harry speaks while finishing putting on his outfit, and for once, you really don’t have it in you to argue. Because arguing costs time. And time is something you are lacking at the current moment.

Your silence is what causes his head to snap in your direction, giving you a confused look. “Oh are you giving me the silent treatment now?”

You know that he doesn’t mean it, but his words are causing you to seethe in your heels. Before you can make a comment that will cause another argument, you start heading towards the stairs, grabbing your keys by the table near the front hallway and throwing them into your clutch.

“Oh, come on! Catherine probably won’t even be there for another hour anyways!” His voice is right behind you, and before you can even think about it, you’ve pivoted on your heel, your hair whipping against your neck with the sheer force of your movements.

“Enough! I’d like to get there before my perpetually late friend, and I don’t need you breathing down my fucking neck about it! Can you do that for me? Please?” You really didn’t mean to snap at him, but he’s been egging you on ever since you’ve asked him to get ready hours ago.

You know that your boyfriend means well, and that he’s got enough on his plate as it is, and going to your forgetful best friend’s birthday dinner is probably the last thing of importance on his list—but you’ve done so much for him. You’ve flown out to shows, you’ve gone months without seeing him due to his demanding schedule, you’ve practically uprooted your life to accommodate his throughout your relationship. And, of course, it was all worth it—because he’s worth everything. But sometimes, especially times like this, you wish he would realize that and just do as you say.

And with one clipped nod, the nod he gives you when he’s surrendering to the argument, he reaches behind you for the front door and holds it open, allowing you to walk in front of him and head towards the car at the end of the driveway, trying your hardest to let the anger seep out of your skin.

***

You hate to say it, but Harry was right. Catherine was forty-five minutes late to her birthday dinner, and before it was over, she was already drunk enough to completely forget to thank you for putting the entire thing together.

But you were far too proud to show your boyfriend that he was right, so instead of acknowledging the smug look he was shooting your way, you decide to order another drink and continue swallowing them down until you were drunk enough to forget how annoyed you were at the entire evening. When Catherine announces moving the party to the new club that opened downtown, you decided you were done, choosing instead to end the night early.

While you were waiting for the valet, you notice that Harry wasn’t as drunk as you were, but he was definitely drunk enough to let his hands rest low on your hips while his body enveloped yours, seemingly protecting you from the cold. His lips would brush your neck every now and then, and while you appreciated how touchy he got when liquor was in his veins, you were still annoyed at the unfinished argument the two of you had hours earlier.

“You look so beautiful tonight, baby. Can’t wait to take you home,” he whispers in your ear. You blame the shiver that racks your body on the wind, even though your insides were burning at the feeling of your boyfriend’s lips against the shell of your ear.You’re silent the entire car ride home, resting your head against the window as Harry’s hands splay against your exposed upper thigh uncovered by your short hemline. With every stop light, he would look over towards you, and you could feel the heat of his gaze every time he ogled your body in the short garment.

Ignoring Harry when you were mad at him was an entire feat in itself.

When he pulls into the driveway, you’re the first to spring out of the car, determined to put enough distance between the two of you so you aren’t tempted to let him win the argument. Harry knows this, because he knows how stubborn you can be. He loves this little game of yours that you play, and while he knows he’ll ultimately apologize to you in the end, watching the way you battle yourself with touching him and keeping your distance makes him only want to rip your clothes off more.

He sits on the loveseat in your bedroom while you rip your heels off and place them on the shoe rack in your closet. You're aware of his gaze, watching every step you take as you remove your earrings, plug your phone into the charger, run to the restroom to wash your face. His silence is irritating, but you’d be damned if you were the first to break it.

It’s once you’ve finally stripped out of your dress when Harry breaks.

“Christ, can you come here, please? You’re killing me, baby.” His voice is rough and you can hear the frustration laced in his words, and it’s enough to make you stare at him head on, hands gripping the undergarments gracing your hips, looking down at him with a stern look.

Harry does his hardest to hide the growing bulge in his pants at the sight of you.

“I’m still upset with you,” you utter, walking towards the loveseat slowly. You purposely matched your bra with your underwear, and it’s enough to cause Harry’s eyes to wander the expanse of your skin, holding back a groan at the sight of you.

“I’m sorry.” His voice sounds miles away, and you can tell that your body is distracting him. He’s not even looking into your eyes, and once his big hands reach out to grab your hips and pull you down on top of him, you immediately back away, removing his hands from your body.

“No touching. Not until you’ve apologized properly.” You know it’s wrong to tease him, but sometimes your boyfriend needs a little reminder of how to treat you when he’s been a bit unfair towards you.

He frowns instantly, crossing his arms against his chest like a petulant child. It’s enough to cause you to snort, before crossing the room and laying on the bed, your back towards him and your front facing the window.

You can hear him shuffling around, most likely removing his clothes in favor of wearing his briefs to bed. And once the overhead light is off, just the light of the moon filtering through the room, you can feel his body hovering over yours in the bed, his hands gripping your waist tightly.

“Hate when you’re a tease,” he whispers against your neck, rolling your body so that you're completely under his, staring up into his dark eyes.

You lock your arms around his neck. “Hate when you’re a prick,” you reply back, trying your hardest to suppress the moan urging itself out of your throat when his hands trace the swells of your breasts, before settling at the tops of your underwear.

“How many times do I have to apologize?” He says, his eyes locked on your body instead of your eyes. You know that he’s been wanting to see you naked all night, and while it makes your skin prickle with goosebumps, it’s not enough.

“Until you mean it.” You watch as he swears under his breath, before moving his hands behind your back to the clasp of your bra. He’s cautious, testing to see how you’ll react, wondering if this is still a game for you. And when you’re quiet, he takes that as affirmation, ridding you of your top layer before pressing his mouth against your newly exposed skin.

You bite your lip so hard until you can taste the metallic flavor of blood, trying your hardest to ignore Harry’s bulge growing against your upper thigh. His mouth is moving lower and lower, his hands kneading your exposed flesh, and it’s driving you absolutely mad to stay silent. But you’re still angry. And stubborn as a bull.

“You know I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt your feelings,” his lips are ghosting over your clothed center, and when your body twitches under his, he takes that as a sign to pull the lace from your skin, tossing it over his shoulder.

“Yeah, well you did, Harry.” Your voice comes out much more high-pitched than normal, and you know that it’s due to your boyfriend’s proximity to your heat. It’s coursing now, and Harry’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your exposed center.

“Didn’t mean it,” he’s distracted again, and before you can yell at him, you watch as his ringed fingers trickle from your navel down to your clit, before swiping against your folds. He’s testing you, wondering how long you’ll be upset with him. You’re still silent, because he doesn’t deserve you at your full-capacity, not when he’s still so cavalier about the way he treated you earlier.

When he removes his briefs and teases you with the tip, your hands immediately grip his shoulder blades forcefully, and the sting is enough to make him look at you for longer than a few seconds.

“You can’t stay mad at me forever…” he’s teasing you, knowing that you’ll eventually break. But your boyfriend is completely underestimating your stubbornness, and when he tries to turn you over so that your front is pressed into the pillows and your backside is in the air, the position that he craves the most, you clench your abdominal muscles and anchor yourself to the mattress.

You won’t be giving him that luxury today.

He says your name breathlessly, but you ignore it. Instead, you bring your mouth closer to his, before speaking instead of kissing him. “Need you to mean it, baby.”

Harry groans against your lips, his tip slipping in when you moved closer to his chest. His mind is moving a hundred miles a minute, trying to remember the exchange of words you both had hours earlier, wondering what he did to make you so upset.

You can tell that he’s thinking, and you decide to reward him by wrapping your legs around his waist, allowing him to slip further inside of you. You’re not that much of a monster.

“I do mean it! I’m sorry I made you late,” he’s stuttering and his eyes are completely blown out, and normally you’d kiss him at this moment when his length is almost completely enveloped by your heat. But he still isn’t understanding it. And you’re still mad.

“Not why I’m angry with you,” you say against the corner of his mouth, your breath hitching once he’s completely bottomed out inside of you. His brain is clouded over with lust, and trying to apologize at this moment is damn near impossible.

His hips start to rut against yours, and when he pulls back out and pushes inside of you once more, gathering a gentle rhythm, you dig your fingernails deeper into his skin to remind him that you are, in fact, still waiting for a decent apology.

Harry’s breathing your name in between moans, his lips inching towards yours desperately. He normally kisses you during sex, tangles his tongue with yours, pulls his teeth against your bottom lip, anything he can do to get closer to you. But you’re denying him of this luxury, and he’s growing more and more frustrated with each pump into you.

“Harry!” You’re not sure if it’s from pleasure or from the fact that he still can’t come up with the reason why you’re so upset with him. But once you’ve stilled under him, his eyes snap to yours, and he’s realizing then that he truly has been a bit of a dickhead tonight.

“Didn’t mean to make you late. Didn’t mean to egg you on. I know—fuck, I know Catherine is always late but that doesn’t mean you are. I know this was important to you. ‘M sorry I was such an asshole. You’re important to me. I love you, fuck baby, I love you too much. Can’t stand you being mad at me. Please.” He’s desperate, his words falling over your cheek in hot pants. His eyes dart between both your pupils, and you can tell that he needs you to understand his words. That he truly means them. That he needs you to fucking accept his apology because he’s about to burst inside of you, and his heart can’t take you not kissing him and looking at him the way you normally do.

You smile then, removing your hands from his shoulders and tangling them into his hair, bringing your lips to his. He sighs in your mouth, relief coursing through his veins. He starts pumping into you again, and you’re finally reciprocating, kissing his cheeks and his neck, whispering his name into his skin, telling him that you love him with each press further into the mattress.

And when he finally comes, you reward him with an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue tangling with his, whispering “I love you” until it settles into the back of his throat.

Because even though you’re stubborn, and even though Harry can be dim when it comes to apologies, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You love him far too much to let him go that easily, and when you’re cuddled into his chest and he’s running his fingers down your matted hair, you fall asleep knowing that you’re safe in his arms.

#blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry x reader #harry smut #1dff #1dffupdates

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ender-baggins · 3 years

Text

Just watched 14x13 Lebanon.

Will preface with the fact that this was a bit of my commentary on the previous episode, and that I do think John Winchester was a crap parent

Lebanon was a pretty good episode, actually. I know some people hate it, and I started off prepared to seethe every moment that John was on screen. but then I managed to get one foot out of the John-crit zone and put it in Sam and Dean’s shoes, and looking at it from both perspectives? The episode has a lot of nuance to it.

Spoilers for this 14x13 Lebanon (obviously)

Overall I think the most important thing to remember about this episode: the theme is that some things are too good to be true.

I knew which episode it was, but I was surprised because I thought it has been in season 15, and then John didn’t show up for a while, so I thought I was wrong until the Pearl came up.

I gotta hand it to Jensen. When John appeared, there were so many emotions packed into Dean’s face in that first short scene, I had to rewatch it several times to get them. Part of it was simple shock, but I could also see… something a little like panic in his face, along with Waay too many emotions for me to name.

The conversation between Sam and John was… I started off mad and then focused more on Sam’s perspective and realized that… yeah, Sam isn’t the same person he was last time he saw his dad. And he didn’t get closure. He never got a chance to get real closure on it, and then here, he did, at least in some form.

Also, interesting thing I noticed- I could see the beginnings of how it could turn into another argument, and John said something that seemed a little accusatory, “you didn’t have a problem talking about it before you left,” and then Sam was like “nope, not gonna argue, not gonna do it, REDIRECTING-“ Which, after what Dean said in the scene before—

—Sam doesn’t want to mess this up for Dean. No way is he gonna start a fight, not now, not when they just got their dad back.

I don’t like the last line of Sam and John’s conversation: “But you did your best, dad. You – you fought for us, and you loved us, and… that’s enough.” Because honestly- it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t. And… dammit he could have done better. But then again, that’s Sam’s dad, and he’s been dead for over a decade, and sometimes people tend to put rose-colored glasses on over the past. So I’ll still happily condemn John’s parenting but I won’t condemn Sam just because he’s unable to see things for what they are in this case.

Now- my absolute favorite part of this entire episode is the section of Sam and Dean going to get groceries and noticing things are changed, and realizing “oh shit, what else is different?”

One, gotta love Dean for implying that Sam being a kale nut is a worse thing than Dean being considered a serial killer by society (which, it’s not like society is wrong??). Like, ah yes, wonderful priorities there, Dean. You’re a wanted killer with your face up in the town, but clearly Sam giving a lecture about the wonders of kale is a much worse thing. (If you can’t tell, I’m being incredibly sarcastic here)

And then here. Castiel’s appearance. I was screeching watching this. Completely freaking out- so much adrenaline. I bet if I’d taken my pulse it would have been skyrocketing-

This was followed by the scene of Castiel and Zachariah in the restaurant, which was Awesome, very clearly highlighting the difference that Dean and the Winchesters made in Cas’s life (later this will be relevant in the Confession - “You changed me, Dean”).

*cue me posting an unnecessary amount of screenshots*

Castiel unfurls his wings—

(Note the messy hair from flying around everywhere. Not the same as his old haircut, but they did what they could with Misha’s hair at the time)

Notice that Dean’s got the angel blade point down, and when he attacks Castiel, he’s using the blunt end to hit him, not the sharp end

(On the other hand, Sam uses the sharp end of the blade to swipe at Castiel. No judgement from me here, Sam sees this as “not our Cas” while Dean still sees this as “my Cas, I can talk him away from Heaven again.”)

Then, the most interesting thing here- when Cas pins Dean agains the wall, Dean’s not even trying to fight Cas here.

See how his hand settles on Castiel’s chest? Not really pressing, just touching. His other hand is gripping Castiel’s wrist, I imagine to try to remove enough pressure from his neck that he can speak. Trying to use his connection to Cas to get Castiel to stop hurting him. And it doesn’t work. Castiel stares him the eyes, not even a flicker of doubt or questioning.

You’ll note that I referred to alternate Castiel in this episode as exclusively “Castiel” and not “Cas.” Because it’s not Cas. Cas is the angel that saved Dean from Hell, and the angel that’s been by Dean’s side for 11 years (at this point in time). And this Castiel has not done that. So he is not Cas.

I’m reminded of the scene wayy back in season 5 where Cas beats Dean up in the alley for trying to give up and give in to Michael. There, Dean actually encouraged Cas to kill him, at the end, and Cas softens. Can’t exactly parse out the parallels there because my brain isn’t working, but there you go.

Now, probably my favorite conversation with John is this one, with Dean.

Right here. The way that Dean says “I have a family.”

It feels almost defiant. “I do have a family. I have Sam, Cas, Mom, Jack. My mother, my brother, my best friend… and I have a son, we all have a son. And beyond that, I’ve got Jody and Donna and Claire and the girls. I do have a family. Yeah, it doesn’t look like the apple pie life, the white picket fence, wife and kids, and yeah, our son is the child of Lucifer, and yeah, I’m in love with my best friend who’s an angel in a man’s body, and I wouldn’t trade him for any woman, and you’d hate that. But they’re my family. And I’m good with that.”

It’s proud, it’s a little defiant, it’s also a little bit of a reassurance, as we see from John’s smile afterward. I don’t think John caught the hint of a challenge in there.

I loved that moment. That might be my favorite line in the entire episode. “I have a family.”

I also like… Dean’s acceptance, “I’m good with who I am.” Part of that… I think it’s both a good thing and a sad thing and also a half lie at the same time. I think he’s good with who he is, in the sense that he’s accepted that he and Sam are the people that have to fill this role in the world, y’know, saving everyone. I think he loves the people he’s with, he loves his family and wouldn’t trade them for anything, not even having John back. No way would he ever trade Cas or Jack or Sam, or Mary, for anything else, ever.

It’s sad, though, because it’s like… he can’t imagine who he’d be if he had a different life. Yes, he’s had a few runs at an apple-pie life, but they weren’t happy, there was always something wrong nagging at him. He… I think he believes there’s no way for him to be happy, and that this is the best he could have.

I’m not even sure how to analyze the goodbye scene. I mean, the clearest thing here is just so much grief from everyone. They got a taste of their father back, and now he has to go back to being dead. There’s so many complicated feelings for both of the brothers, because of the complicated relationship with John, but in the end? They can’t help but love him, and they can’t help but feel grief at losing him. I won’t fault them for that.

In short, I wanna give Dean a gigantic hug and also give him therapy-

And then Cas coming back to the bunker when he did. I bet he sensed something and headed back to the bunker as fast as he could. Also, no clue what he experienced during the whole “Castiel and Zachariah are alive” thing. I imagine it’s possible there were two Cas’s running around for a bit? Because Mary didn’t get affected by the pearl. And Sam was there with his own memories, despite there being videos up of him doing things in the parallel universe. As for Cas, he’s part of Dean’s group of “people” so my guess is two Castiels running around for a little bit.

I like how Dean looks at Cas at the end. He’s relieved to have his angel back.

In summary-

The theme of this episode is “some things are too good to be true.” John came back, the four of them got their moment together, but John couldn’t stay. Things were good for that single afternoon, because everyone was just happy to see each other again, but it sent so much stuff into chaos that it couldn’t last, it had to be undone. And even then, if they’d tried to keep going with it, I know it would have degraded, the illusion of perfection would shatter, and they’d fall into old habits, old arguments and new ones.

And so it had to end.

#THIS IS NOT JOHN APOLOGISM #JOHN IS A TERRIBLE PARENT #HE MAY HAVE APOLOGIZED BUT THAT DOESN’T ABSOLVE HIM OF HIS ACTIONS #john winchester #spn 14x13 #spn Lebanon #dean winchester #sam winchester #mary winchester #castiel #jack kline #destiel #supernatural #Ender’s musings

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Nekoma!Manager!Male!Reader

a/n: never written male reader before but this was a funny request and i really do see the irony in this

anon request:

absolutely LOVED your seijoh hcs! you said you wanted to do the other schools so i thought, how about nekoma but with a MALE manager bc it would be so ironic to have a male god as their manager rather than a goddess that they always talked about!! thank youuuuuuu!!!!!!!

yall the nekoma fanchant is literally stuck in my head

hehe uwu lets step on the pedal

ong jesus take the wheel pls

so basically,,,

being the nekoma manager is a MESS

lets say youre a second year and was only the manager bc you were begged into taking the job

like wouldnt leave you alone and pestered you 25/8, screaming about needing their own god manager

also just because, you are fairly popular and you have your own fanclub of girls in nekoma and they thought it would give them more exposure and more chances w girls :’)

tora was actually the first who came up to you and begged you to be their manager during class one day bc they are in need of one but they arent allowed to have a girl manager so he turned to having a handsome male

‘I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY IT HAS TO BE A BOY’

‘so you wont be all over him abd be distracted w showing off’

‘WHO ARE YOU TO QUESTION MY SE-’

‘tora, please’

initially, you refused bc you just couldnt be bothered to be part of a club where you basically babysit a bunch of overgrown children

but kenma, your childhood friend, was the team’s last attempt to get you in since kuroo mentioned that he was the only one you listened to

‘kenma, babie, i love you, but i am your friend, not your nanny. so unless i am paid, i will not waste my time taking care of of all of you. especially that chicken head’

‘y/n, yaku is on his last leg here. we really need a manager and we need it fast’

‘you went for years without one so why do you need it?’

‘we’re scared that nekomata would just drop dead any minute now’

‘yanno? im surprised hes even still alive with yall’

‘....... ill show your fangirls that picture of you when we were 5 when-’

‘okay, kenma. rude about the blackmail but okay. dont expect me to be the maid or anything’

nope, you were actually the maid

and the cook

and the nanny

and the laundry person

the everything

it baffles you that kuroo is about to graduate next year yet he still doesnt know the difference between fabric softener and detergent

the amount of times you sent him to pick up more and only to send him back when he ended up buying 2 softeners or 2 detergents

‘they all look the same!’

‘kuroo tetsuro cAN yOu NoT rEAd?!’

ngl i still mix them up sometimes

during matches, youre basically their mother, their nanny, and nekomata’s notetaker, and their personal cheerleader

naoi, the other coach guy, and coach nekomata has adopted you as a son bc of how hard you work and the less the burden is on them

like your notes about their playing percentages really works and helps them and added with the chores you do for the team?

godsend

also, lets put your popularity in here

you dress with a white shirt and zip up your red nekoma jacket with your red sweatpants so you look like one of the players, right?

but how come every time they have practice, youre the only one with the fangirls in the bleachers?

youre literally wearing the same thing as them yet youre the only one who gets looked at?!

even kuroo, who was quite good looking, doesnt have that many girls pining after him yet you, resident anti-tryhard, seems to get the female population to fall for you just by doing the simplest things like breathing

youd be doing normal things like using your whistle as you hold a clipboard and girls would be screeching at you

‘omg m/n is so hot!’

‘hes just !!!! uuggghhhh’

‘siri how to be a whistle?’

i am uncomfortable with the energy we have created in the gym today

tora complains about it all the time bc first, they cant have a beautiful manager, two, they have a pretty boy who’s taking the attention away

‘SO NOT FAIR! M/N, TURN UGLY!’

you bonk him on the head in anger and threaten to quit all the time

‘say that again and you’ll be filling your own water bottles tomorrow’

but in truth though, the guys really do appreciate you and everything you do

they know that you balance them with your personal life and classes and still make time to do their laundry and make them food

so they have started easing off the burden and weight off of your shoulders

at first, you were very suspicious when they told you that they already filled their water bottles

‘huh? i didnt think you even knew where the water fountain was’

‘wym weve been doing this for years’

-kuroo

then, you heard kuroo tell the others to put their sweaty jerseys in the basket in the corner of the room and for the last person to carry it to the laundromat

‘um, sir, we dont want to have another pink jersey disaster again’

you stopped inuoka from lugging the basket but he shook his head and gave you a wide grin

‘nope, m/n-senpai! i’ll carry it for you! i’m strong, see?’

he flexed his right arm muscle while holding the basket with one hand but it was too heavy so it fell to the ground, spilling out all the practice jerseys

you sighed before bending down to pick them up and babie inuoka’s eyes watered, thinking you were mad at him

‘gomen, senpai’

he whispered but you looked up at him from your position

his watery eyes made you frantically stand up and wipe his tears with the pads of your thumbs

‘inu-kun, why are you crying? you said you were strong right? dont cry over silly things, okay?’

he nodded and you were still confused as to why he was so emotional but you patted his fluffy hair

‘now cmon, lets go take these to the shop’

unbeknownst to you, the team was actually seething from behind the wall

naturally, as a,,, manager,, you became their,,, energy??

like the slightest affections from you made their health bar increase tenfold and they didnt necessarily have any intentions towards you

you were like,,, their own,,,, happy drug?? like a human seratonin??

just the fact that they had someone like you to fall back on and give them love when they lost or something

it was comforting

usually it was just the team’s responsibility to throw away their own sadness and comfort each other

but with you,,,

they could easily cry with no fear and you would comfort them until they didnt need to be comforted anymore

eventually, they ended up straight out competing against each other on who would get the most affection

clearly, inuoka used his first year card and everyone knew you were soft for your kouhais

like you would just grab them and hug them because of how cute they were

uwu especially lev?!

he may be a giant but hes just a really REALLY REALLY BIG CAT

;)

LEV LIVES TO HUG YOU

like the mans is beanstalk level of height and despite the age difference, he just picks you up and cuddles you and youre just like ‘okay, let it out babie’

DKSFJSLD ANYWAYS

you are always a hot topic w all the students in nekoma and even some in other schools

like during training camp, bro you making everyone question their sexuality

omg akaashi and you are probably the prettiest people there and can i just say how everyone cant focus on a practice match bc youd be laughing together or something and they havent heard anything so beautiful??

and the kitties get really defensive over you and hiss at anyone who even tries to approach you

hiss hiss

DKJFSLKDFJDWHAT IF EVERYONE IN THE TEAM IS BI

OMG WHAT

like the little touches from you make them so red and confident gays like kuroo and bokuto call you out on them and tease you

while the quiet ones like akaashi and kenma are just blushing and stutter and you tease them instead?

*inhale* BOI *exhale*

the uke and seme dynamic is real on this one

however, there are times when the turned tables

there was that one day that you were seriously questioning if bokuto wore leggings or just really high knee pads and you cornered him after baths to just figure it out

like our poor confident boi turned to a shy babie and shrunk against the wall, covering his red face

‘y-y/n-kun’

‘bo-san, i just want to know’

DKFSJLKDFJFJSDKIM DYING OVER HERE LIKE PLEASE I DONT OWN Y/N

after seeing the smidge of skin at the top of the kneepad, you nodded and brushed your fingertips over the flesh

‘hmm~ so i was right~’

FROM THEN ON POOR BABIE OWL COULDNT LOOK AT YOU THE SAME!!!!!!

it worried everyone so much when bokuto would glance at you in the sidelines and he would competely miss akaashi’s set bc his eyes would focus on you rather than the ball

like he absolutely couldnt take his eyes off of you and when you do turn to meet his eyes, he shrinks back and looks away, completely missing your amused smirk

now, your kitties werent happy about that

theyre very protective of you and they felt that this owl could snatch you right up and fly away

and kuroo, being the captain and the head of the familia, took it upon himself and dragged you to the back of the gym while the others were practicing

kurat pushed you against the wall and basically kabedonned you

KUROO IS LIKE 6′2 OR 190 CM I CANT

‘you seem close with bokuto, l/n. almost, too,, close’

an amused smirk etched itself on your lips and you pressed a hand on his chest

‘oya~? captain-san, am i being punished?’

SFDKLFSJKLDFJL SIR Y/N IS SUPPOSED TO RADIATE SEME ENERGY BUT HE ISNT AND I CANNOT-

ofc he was taken aback by your flirty attitude but he smirked and softly brushed away your bangs that slightly covered your eyes

‘hmm~~ depends, y/n-kun. are you going to be a good kitty and stay with the clowder? or are you going to stay with those pesky chickens~?’

DKFLSJDKFJSL BRO DID YOU KNOW A GROUP OF CATS IS CALLED A CLOWDER?! I DIDNT EVEN KNOW THAT BUT I HAVE A FEELING KUROO WOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT BC HE BIG BRAIN

you chuckled and gently wrapped your arms around his shoulders

but your hand grabbed the hair at the back of his head and harshly pulled him to be closer to you

your eyes blinked innocently but your sharp teeth were shown from your malicious grin

‘ive always been a bad kitty, captain. so i dont care what you say because you cant tell me what to do~’

👀👀👀👀

imagine what happens next bc i cant write something unholy

anyways

so you learned that tetsu CAN in fact tell you what to do and you avoided everyone else which caused them to wonder but one look at your neck

well,,,,,

you got attacked by a cat

a cat named tetsu

SKDFLJSDKFJSLKUROO IS THE ONLY SEME YOU CLASH WITH

THE OTHERS ARE ALL UKE

EVEN BEEFY BUFF CAKE BOI BO

but you toned it down to not be attacked again

ngl the whole team was all jealous and they even whined to kuroo about it

‘thats not fair!!!!’

‘stop abusing your role as captain!!!!’

they hated the fact that kuroo got you first so they all rally over to keep you away from him

like baby kenma would nudge you over and bring him to sit next to you, saying he needs you to help him with a certain level

‘kenny, im not sure how to play this game’

‘hmm,,,, youre a quick learner, y/n, and youre really quick with your fingers so you could pass to the next level’

*insert lenny face*

‘oya? and you would know how, kenny?’

and baby kenny would fluster a little before glomping to your side and burying his face into your shoulder to hide away

the first years would absolutely use their kouhai priviledges and bring you over to help them with ‘homework’

‘you guys realize i passed because kuroo would beat me into studying right?’

‘but senpai! you mustve learned a thing or two in your classes!’

‘bold of you to assume i was even awake in my classes’

but they still make you spend hours trying to help them which turn into just messing around

KSDLFJSDKFJD MOVIE NIGHTS YOU GUYS THATS IT!!

there isnt really a single calm moment in your guys’ practice

poor you have already started seeing lot of gray hairs

you literally decline every single confession just because youre too busy for a date and you cant handle having to take care of another person

its like youre dating the whole team!!

soon the entire school have just accepted the fact that you are just simply not in the market anymore just because you joined the club

not because youre actually taken by a girlfriend but youre taken by a bunch of teenage males

imagine how that works out

anyways

youre not really the best volleyball player out there but you know a thing or two

well,,, its more like your stamina doesnt allow you to play long bc a single lap literally destroys your lungs

but you still know when yaku complains about having a shaky receive

‘oh, momo-senpai, youre bending your knees too low so gravity is pushing down on your-’

ugh chemistry i hate it

despite your lack of athletic or physical skills, they still appreciate you for your keen eyes, your caring nature, and your overall looks that give them motivation to play harder to impress you personality :)

all the boys love you

and tbh

you love your boys too

even though it was a blackmail caused event,

you still would’ve joined otherwise

this is kinda short but its going to be longer if i find some plots or somebody asks for a plotline that i can write about for a long time

anyways

byeeeee :)))))

a/n: this isnt exactly the best manager one ive written but ill probably find a good prompt for this or again as stated ^^ someone sends in an ask for it and ill write a story for our favorite male manager :’D

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shoichee · 3 years

Note

Hey! I read your Kise imagine recently and I adore it, it's rare to see someone write about manga!kise and I really loved it. Furthermore your writing is so so good to read 🥰 I wanted to ask you Kise x reader prompt 1! I would really like to read about him in such a situation ☺ Thank you Iain advance 😘

WAHHH TYSM ANON <33 IM SO HAPPY HEHE, and phew yall thought asshole kise was something but... have yall heard of TEIKO-era asshole kise??! NO?? dw, bc he’s debuting here // i wanted to really showcase his dual sides through more of dialogue (so we won’t really see what’s in Kise’s mind for this), so here it is hope you enjoy this anon!

Kise x Reader

Prompt: “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

Word Count: 2120

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it, Kise.”

“Huh?” he mocks with a condescending tone. “I didn’t peg you as someone who’d pull shit out of their ass like my last ‘ex-girlfriend.’ Just because I let you hang around me doesn’t mean you can parade around campus with an inflated ego.”

Your hands shake furiously at your sides, trying not to punch the basketball player square in the face.

“Me? With an ego? Look who’s damn talking!” you seethe. “I’m tired of the fact that we keep playing this stupid flirting game for months, only for it to go absolutely nowhere!”

“Have you ever stopped to use your brain and think about how flirting inherently is done in good casual fun?” Kise explains slowly, implying that you were the immature one in the situation. “Meanwhile, you have the audacity to get mad at me when you’re the one who’s using me for your own selfish gain!” Kise sends a heated glare but his eyes were tinged with betrayal.

“What the hell are you even talking about? Are you out of your mind?”

“Fuck this,” he scoffs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m leaving, I’m not dealing with this shit anymore. If you want attention, I’m not gonna entertain you anymore.”

“No, you will not leave!” you yell, trying to stop Kise in his tracks. He merely ignores you as he holds up a hand to do a wave with his back to you. “You’re going to explain what the hell you were talking about!”

You sprinted and held onto his sleeve to tug him back to face you, only to be met by the most bone-chilling gaze from him. You would’ve absolutely cowered in his presence if it wasn’t for the fact that you were irrationally angry from the false accusations Kise threw at you prior. You can definitely tell that Kise was biting his inner cheek to keep himself reasonably calm.

“Ryōta,” you say.

“Don’t call me by my first name anymore,” he says flatly.

“Where did you get the idea that I was using you?”

“Hah! Why? Does it matter? Are you gonna go to them and try to threaten them after? It’s so clear from the way you’re talking right now that you only see me as a prize to show off.” You inhale a huge breath to stop yourself from saying something you’ll regret.

“I never saw you as some object, Ryōta,” you mildly scoff. “Let me make myself clear. All I wanted was a clear answer from you every time I asked you if you wanted something serious, but every single damn time, you changed the subject or never answered the question!”

“It’s all done in good fun. Does it really need to be serious?”

“But I want something serious with you!”

Kise merely turns away in silence, but you can see his body slightly tremble.

“... Ryōta?”

“Don’t lie to me like that…” he says, slightly sucking a breath. “... Look, if you really wanna use me to boost your popularity, just… just come clean, okay? I’ll go along with it if you tell me now. After all, we’ve been… good friends.”

“Lie? Why would I lie? I never thought once of using you or having any motives other than to get to know you personally as a friend, Ryōta,” you say, looking down on the grip you had on his sleeve still.

“What reason is there to know someone like this other than to activate a ticking time bomb while playing a game to pass that time? Isn’t that how it’s always been? Isn’t that what we are right now?”

Your senses tell you that something deeper beyond this surface argument has been troubling him. You slowly let go of his sleeve, before turning away with a sigh, leaving Kise absolutely confused.

“I think we both need to cool our heads,” you sigh. “We’ve both said too much, and… just… forget what I said, okay? And I’ll forget about what you told me.” Kise’s eyes widen at your statement.

“(y/n)-cchi…?”

“We can still do light-hearted banter like we always do the next time we see each other, okay Kise?” Your fists on your sides tremble before you hold up your head to give him a cheerful smile that’s eerily all too familiar to his own. You turn to walk away, but his heart squeezes painfully at the sight of your back to him like this. You’re so far from him. So far.

“Hold it, now…” he says, slightly sprinting to catch up to you. He grabs your hand, still balled tightly by your side. “You’re cruel, you know that? Demanding me not to leave but then leaving the conversation on your own accord? You’re a hypocrite.” He spins you around to see your eyes barely struggling to hold back fresh tears. Little did he know that your countenance was a mirror to his own.

“... Our heads aren’t in the right place, Kise. You should probably let go.”

“I probably should, huh…” he says, but still giving no sign that he was actually going through with it.

“Knowing you, you’d really hold my fist until someone has to actually separate you from me.”

“And knowing you, you’d probably punch me before anyone else had the chance to do so.”

“You know me so well, hm?” you muse, a tiny curl of your lip a different world than the one you gave moments before.

“... No,” he says with a slight frown. “I don’t think I know you well enough.”

“I don’t know you enough either, Kise.”

Silence falls between the two of you, frail as thin ice, before you eventually break it.

“... You’re right, this whole friendship we have right now… it’s a time bomb. It’s bound to fail and fall apart.”

“W-Wait,” Kise slightly says in shock. “That was… I didn’t mean it like—”

“No healthy relationship of any kind would last if we keep dancing around each other like this. I wanna be honest with you for once… I… don’t wanna do this banter anymore. I don’t wanna do these flirting games. I’m kinda tired of it. Especially when you always keep me at a distance.”

“Pfft, (y/n)-cchi,” he snorts loudly, flashing his sunny smile. “I’m practically so close to you holding your hand!”

“You know exactly what I mean,” you sigh, and you avert your gaze away. “You feel so far. I just… you feel so out of reach even when I’m in the same room as you… even as of now. I just want to know where we’ll end up.”

You firmly shake his grip off you, watching his hand falling back to his side as he does nothing but stare at you. You don’t know if he’s angry, offended, or shocked, but whatever his expression was, you couldn’t tell, not when you still stared at the concrete to the side rather than at him.

“Of course I wanna be friends with you,” you continue. “But can you blame me for believing that there’s something more between us when we do romantic gestures and flirting for months on end? If we’re just going to be friends, that’s fine, but I’d prefer if you’d also stop addressing me with -cchi, just to draw a clear boundary between us.” You finally look up to see Kise, but to your own shock, he looks quite bitter.

“You say that you’re confused about what we are, but then you go prattle to everyone else that you’re my significant other when we haven’t even talked a single thing about being a serious thing. You’re so fucking confusing.”

“I… did no such thing?” Your eyes, still puffy from the tear ducts, shine in genuine bewilderment.

“You… didn’t?”

“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I… um… oh…” All he could do was to stand there completely stupefied, mouth gaping as multiple realizations suddenly hit him like bricks. He rubs his neck as he shamefully looks away.

“So tell me,” you slowly say, giving him a more bone-chilling gaze than the one he gave you. “What exactly have you been hearing in the hallways?” You both stand there in silence again as Kise struggles to think of a way to explain it without sounding completely dumb.

“Okay, look… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have listened to the rumors so easily, especially since I despise them too, but… they were about you, and I just couldn’t help myself…” he mumbles. “I don’t know, I… the thought of you getting close to me to use me really, really hurts.”

“And you thought just cutting me off on the spot was the most reasonable decision you can think of?”

“H-Hey…! Don’t put it like that! I thought I knew you well, but when I heard what people gossiped, my mind just went somewhere, and I thought maybe I misread you at some point. If you really did have ulterior motives, cutting you off wouldn’t be as easy as that other girl. Because I… w-wait! Where are you going?!”

“Home, Kise,” you flatly say. “It’s after school after all.”

“At least hear what I have to say!” He tries to catch up with you, but you only speed walk to outpace him. “Let me explain myself!”

“Hypocrite~” you say, using Kise’s mocking voice. “I don’t recall you letting me explain myself in the beginning.”

“(y/n)-cchi, I’m sorry! I’ll pay for all the outings we’ll do this week! And um… I’ll always talk to you if something’s bothering me—don’t ignore me!”

“Didn’t I tell you not to use -cchi?” you sigh, stopping abruptly, causing Kise to accidentally bump against you. “I’ll forgive you, but we’re still only friends. I guess I’ll apologize for assuming things on my end, too.” Kise drops his head on your shoulder from behind, and you only roll your eyes in amusement at the familiar contact. “Oh dear, Kise. I didn’t think you were the type to be so clingy after a fight.”

“Okay, I’ll ‘fess up,” he says, voice muffled by your uniform blazer. “Even though we’ve always gotten along so well, there’s always been a part of me who’s been on the lookout for any possible signs that you only saw me for my reputation. While I enjoyed having you around, I had always been ready to cut you off if I saw anything suspicious, but… lately the thought of letting you go ached so much… and then I heard what the other students were talking about… how you were acting the entire time… how you somehow screwed over other people before… couldn’t really think properly after that.”

“Boo hoo,” you huff. “Do you want a kiss to make you feel better?”

“... I actually do.”

“I think our heads haven’t completely cooled down. I’m going ahead.” You were about to walk away, even though you very much enjoyed his head on your shoulder, but his arms wrap around you to stop moving any further from his side.

“You said that you wrongly assumed what we were…” he whispers. “But you’re actually right. We’ve been more than friends for a while without me really acknowledging it,” he chuckles at your groan, “I guess you really do know me well… I’m really attached to you… but it’s not fair that you’re so collected even when I’m hugging you like this.”

“Kise, you’re an idiot, do you know that?” you snort. “How are you hugging me but not noticing how fast my heart is beating?”

“H-Hey! Can you call me by my first name again? I said it without really thinking, okay? It hurts me every time you do that.” He gives the most comical pout, but you only punch the top of his head on your shoulder before walking ahead.

“I’m still mad at you. I’m going home.”

“(y/n)-cchi, w-wait! Let me walk you home, then!”

“Don’t call me that either. I’m still mad at you.”

“But aren’t we dating now? I can call you that if we’re a thing.”

“But I’m still mad. You still said all those horrible things, and that stung. You think you’re the only one hurting right now?”

“I’m really, really sorry! I’ll make it up to you, and I won’t say anything like that again, and…”

“You’re not being really convincing.”

“I know I was being immature and the one with the inflated ego, and I said things that aren’t remotely true—”

You sigh before you turn back to a panicking Kise behind you.

“Then you better make it up to me by cuddling me and telling me some sweet nothings, because I can really use that right now, Ryōta.”

#knb x reader #knb #knb fic #knb fics #knb scenarios #kise x reader #kise ryota #kise ryota x reader #kise ryouta #teiko middle school #teiko #knb teiko #manga kise

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bungou-stray-dingus · 4 years

Note

Osamu and Chuuya with an S/O who helps them get over the emotional trauma of their previously relationship, which was abusive? Thank you so much, if you get to this. Love you!

I love you too bb!!!

If anyone is ever going through anything like this, please do not hesitate to talk to me or someone you know and trust. You are not alone. I’ve been through, and my sister has been through a relationship like this. Domestic violence is never okay!

(Warning : talk of physical and mental abuse, domestic violence and murder)

Dazai

You were preparing dinner for Dazai and yourself, it was supposed to be a peaceful night with just the two of you together. It was a night that the two of you had been looking forward to, especially after the long hours that the two of you worked during the week. Relaxing inside, curled up next to each other on the couch watching a movie, it was a perfect Saturday night.

You had thought for sure that you had put the glass in the center of the counter, but your eyes must have misjudged. The glass cup fell off the counter in slow motion, but you weren’t quick enough to catch it. You watched it hit the floor, the shards caught the light as it shattered into pieces that were scattered all over the linoleum tiles of the kitchen.

“Y/N?” Dazai’s voice sounded from the living room. The bile rose in your throat as your heart raced. You immediately dropped to the floor, using your hands to try to sweep the shards into a pile. You didn’t seem to notice the tiny slivers that imbedded themselves into your palms and fingertips, or the blood that was dripping onto the floor from one of the pieces slicing your hand. “Y/N!” His voice was closer now, and you jumped at the sound of it.

“I-I’m cleaning it, I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to...” He reached out his hand to help you up and you cowered away from his touch. “Please, I’m sorry!” You whimpered, dropping your head and bracing for the hit.

“...y/n....” Your name came out as a whisper as he kneeled down next to you. He grabbed your hand to inspect where the bleeding was coming from. “Come on, we’ll worry about this later, you’re hurt.” He gently pulled you off the floor to your feet. He couldn’t understand the fear in your face, why were you so scared? It’s not like he’s mad about it, why couldn’t you see that?

“I really didn’t mean it. Please don’t be mad at me, Dazai.” You whispered as he walked you into the bathroom and sat you down on the edge of the tub. He fumbled in the medicine cabinet, pulling out his bandages, tweezers, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

“Accidents happen, sweetheart. I’m not mad at all. I’m worried about your hand, now please, hold it out for me, let me see.” His touch was feather light as he grabbed your wrist, holding your hand out so he could examine the cuts. “I’m gonna have to pull the shards out. I’m sorry.” He poured the peroxide over your palm first and you winced as it started bubbling around the wounds.

After he finished cleaning up your hand and wrapping the bandages around your palm he went into the kitchen to clean up the glass. You followed behind him, watching his face, trying to find any hint of agitation or anger about what had just happened, but there was nothing. He was wearing his normal smile as he swept the glass into the dustpan.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking up from the floor at your worried face.

“You’re.... not mad? Really?” You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively.

“Why would I be mad? Things break, it’s not like you meant it.” He got up off the floor to dump the shards into the trash can. “Why do you look so scared?” He questioned and your breath caught in your throat. He didn’t know about your past relationship, it was in the past, but it still had its lasting affects on you. You shook your head quickly, you didn’t want to bring it up, you knew how Dazai could get. “Are you... scared of me?” He asked, noticing the way you backed away from him when he walked closer.

“N-no... I just....” How would you even be able to make up an excuse? You couldn’t, and you sighed. He didn’t move any closer to you, so you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around his torso. “You wouldn’t hurt me... would you?” Your question shocked him. He couldn’t even imagine why you would think that he would ever hurt you in any way. You were precious to him, he loved you. He could never...

He didn’t prod for information, but he did ask if you were okay, reminding you constantly that he would never cause you any harm. You could tell that what had happened earlier in the day was bugging him, way more than he wanted you to know. He was honestly worried that he had at some point during your relationship given you the wrong impression, that you actually thought he was capable of acting violently against you. He was beating himself up over it, and you couldn’t let him continue to worry, so you sat him down and finally told him about your previous relationship.

To say it was hard to talk about it was an understatement. Phantom stings and aches were felt all over your body as you talked about the beatings you would endure whenever your boyfriend would come home and lash out.

It was the first time you saw Dazai cry, he was crying for you, but even through the tears you could see the anger that he was trying to suppress. He didn’t want you to see him angry, he didn’t want you to be scared of him. He held it in as best he could, clenching his fists and keeping them firmly placed on his lap.

“There was a time, it was so bad... I honestly thought... I thought that I would die.... I wished I did.” You mumbled, remembering vividly the violent beating when your ex came home drunk. He had gambled all his money away and he took out his anger on you.

Dazai felt like he was going to throw up, hearing about the hell that you went through. Hearing you say that you wished that you died, it only made it harder for him to hide his anger. He was going to find the piece of shit that hurt you, he would make him wish that he was dead, and he would grant that wish.

But first, he would hold you, he would hold you close. He wanted you to know that you were safe with him, that he would never do anything like that, he couldn’t even imagine doing that to you. He wiped away the tears that clung to your cheeks, brushing his fingers through your hair as he whispered “I love you”s. His touch was lighter than a feather, rubbing circles into your back.

He was gentler with you now, he would always sneak up on you in the past to wrap his arms around you, but now that he knew what you went through he didn’t want to scare you at all, so he would stand in front of you with his arms out waiting for you to hug him. When you would lay in bed with him at night he would wrap his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. He knew that you always felt safer in his arms, and he would hold you there as long as he possibly could, even when his arms fell asleep.

Honestly, he just loved you so much, and he knew that he couldn’t take away the pain that you went through in your past, but he wanted to give you the love that you deserved, and he was doing a damn good job at it.

He also still hasn’t found your ex, but there is a target over his head and he will end him, and he will enjoy every second of torturing the piece of shit.

Chuuya

Chuuya would protect you with everything he had, there was no question about that. You were the most precious thing in his life, he couldn’t even imagine one day without you so he had to make sure you were safe. He loved you entirely, his entire heart was yours, he was devoted to you. That’s why it killed him when you had told him one night about the years of abuse at the hands of your ex boyfriend.

He knew that there was nothing he could do now, the damage was done, but it still made him feel horrible. If he had found you sooner, he could have saved you from the relationship, he could have kept those things from happening to you.

“Was he trying to kill you?” He asked, trying to keep his voice low so you couldn’t hear how pissed he was. If you said yes though, he would probably lose it.

“Well, one time he choked me, and he wouldn’t stop... I blacked out, I passed out. He left me, he didn’t even call for help, he just left me there on the floor. I don’t know what he would have done if I didn’t wake up, he probably would have just hid my body or something.” He felt your body shudder at the thought, but he was shaking for a completely different reason. His blood was boiling, he was absolutely seething with rage. Someone had attempted to take you out of this world, to take you away from him. Sure, you didn’t know him then, but he didn’t even want to think about what his life would be like if he didn’t have you here next to him.

“What was his name?” Chuuya asked, he would make a note of it, and he would absolutely destroy the guy who did that to you. Chuuya would make Hell seem like a five star vacation resort after he’s done with him.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine now. I’m with you, I’m happy.” He couldn’t argue with that, he was glad to know that you were as happy with him as he was with you. It still didn’t change the fact that there was somebody still out in the world, still living their life after doing what they did to you, that couldn’t slide, he wouldn’t let it slide, he couldn’t.

His top priority was always to protect you, that didn’t change, he only got more protective. He was like a demon chihuahua, and if anyone got too close to you he would growl at them, pulling you closer against him. He would keep you safe from everything and everyone, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, he would make sure that you were safe.

Whenever he was angry from work he made sure to calm down before coming home. He didn’t want you to see him angry, he didn’t want you to fear him, that would break his heart to pieces.

He’s way more gentle with you with everything he does. Hugs are softer, kisses are slower, and when he brings his hands up to hold your face while kissing you he makes sure his skin is just barely touching yours.

“Chuuya, I’m not made of glass.” You say as his fingers brush against your skin so lightly you could barely feel it.

“You’re the finest crystal, a precious diamond. You’re worth more to me than any of those though.” He whispers softly, as though if he speaks too loud that even his words could hurt you.

Chuuya has spent late nights at headquarters “working” overtime. He’ll text you constantly to let you know that he’ll be home soon and that you don’t have to wait up for him.

He’s trying to find your ex to teach him a lesson. He needed to be taught, it was the only thing he could do. He will do to your ex what should have been done the first time he ever laid a non-loving finger on you.

Finding your ex was a harder task than he thought since he didn’t want to ask you for his name. He knew you wanted to leave him in the past, you’d question why Chuuya wanted to know and then you’d most likely get scared when you figured out what he was going to do.

When he finally did find him though, he found his address and made an entire blueprint of the interior (with the help of Akutagawa and Rashomon).

He planned the entire break in and how to make your ex’s death seem like an accident. He would torture him so he was as close to death as possible, and then he’d go to the kitchen and turn on the gas of the stove before lighting a match and throwing it into the open window.

When he gets back home to you he sees you watching the news, your hands covering your face as you watch the live footage of your ex boyfriends house ablaze.

“He’s dead?” You murmur and Chuuya notices that you’re crying. He immediately gets worried that he went too far. But when you sigh with relief and smile up to him he smiles back. “Thank you.” You whisper, and he just stands there for a second staring at you.

How you knew it was him, he had no idea... but you thanked him, and that made it all worth it. It was the least he could do for his queen.

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd request #bsd headcanons #bsd scenarios #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai headcanons #dazai scenarios #dazai imagines #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya headcanons #chuuya imagines #chuuya scenarios

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xplrerdolan · 4 years

Note

I mean since u asked👀what abt if you acted out in public and the twins were mad and so at home u get a punishment and it’s just a bunch of them teasing and denying u😗I’m sorry I’m horny😔

ofc the first thing i write on this account for the twins (obviously excluding hate fuck, that was written before) WOULD be a threesome 😭 never apologize for being horny, anon. i am ALWAYS horny. also this is the second thing in a row that i’m writing about edging 🥴 i see we’re in the mood for that

WARNINGS: smut, rough sex, edging, teasing, overstimulation, slight bondage, degradation kink [including derogatory language] , threesome (MMF), aftercare & slight fluff at the end

—

It was petty. You knew it was petty, but honestly, you didn’t care. Petty, childish, immature—you’d readily plea guilty as charged.

In your defense, they were practically asking for it to happen. I mean, did they really expect you to act like a loyal, good girl to them when they continue to claim they’re single and can do what they want? If that was the case, so could you. And you decided to do exactly that. Right in front of them. In front of a lot of people, actually.

There were several men in the audience cheering you on as you seductively twirled around the column supporting the spandrels around the bar, though they were not among them. While they weren’t cheering, you could practically hear them seething with rage. But what did you care? If they didn’t want to at least be exclusive with you, they had no right to complain about your behavior.

They especially shouldn’t be upset when you grabbed the most attractive guy you see—besides them, of course—and pulled him on top of the bar with you. Because, you’re single, and you can do whatever you want. So, being single and free to do whatever you want, you turned so your back was to his front and danced on him.

Okay, let’s not sugarcoat. You were practically fucking this guy, merely separated by clothes. A full-on dry hump in front of an entire nightclub’s worth of sleazy men. You continued to perform for their pleasure, feeding into the catcalls and vile behavior just to go the extra mile of proving just how single and able to do whatever you want you were.

With your point amply proven, you removed the stranger’s hands from around you and jumped off the bar top into the sea of men fantasizing about you. You ignored them all, happy with the example you’d made out of them, and didn’t even spare a glance in the direction of the two massive men who were likely to be shaking with rage. Instead, you walked out of the nightclub with your head high and more arrogance than they both had combined.

You walked to a lamppost a few feet away from the exit, leaning against it nonchalantly while you waited. You knew they would follow you. And not even two minutes later, two of the most intimidating men you’d ever met in your life moved into your line of vision. You feigned a look of innocence, smiling at them as though you radiated purity, wearing the mask of a virgin.

But they knew so much better than to buy it for even a second. You were, by far, the furthest thing from an innocent virgin they’d ever encountered. The fact that you’d even managed to warm the space between them was proof enough of your irresistible, devilish nature.

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” spoke the twin on the right, the one bearing a birthmark on his left cheek.

“And funny, and sexy, and smart, and charming,” you smirked, counting each of the adjectives on your fingers as you listed them. “Among other things.”

The twin on the left scoffed at you, shaking his head. “You’re a slut, [Y/N].”

“That’s very observant of you, Grayson! Like I said, ‘among other things.’ I’m very versatile.”

He looked ten seconds away from breaking the lamppost behind you in half. And with the body hidden under his Gucci shirt...he definitely could.

“E, get the car,” Grayson said, his nostrils flaring as be barely kept his voice below shouting level.

You bit your lip and eyed Grayson tauntingly, more excited than afraid for them to take their anger out on your body. This would be the greatest punishment you’d ever received, without a doubt. You felt your pussy ache in anticipation, unable to contain a giggle and devious smile under Grayson’s furious gaze.

Ethan pulled up in Grayson’s Porsche a minute later. Grayson pulled the door to the backseat open, his aggression present in his movements. He didn’t even order you to get in; he just looked at you with those menacing eyes. You felt a thrill run through you as your mind raced with possibilities of what punishment awaited you. You scooted into the backseat, leaving room for Grayson to follow after you. As the younger twin slammed his door shut, the older one sped off in the direction of their LA home.

Grayson wasted no time with you. He unbuckled his jeans and freed his cock from his boxers, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you down to his lap.

“You see how hard my cock is?” he asked you, keeping your head in place as he smacked it against your cheek mercilessly. “Do you see what you did?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered sweetly, loving the way he degraded you.

“Good. Time for you to take care of it.”

He didn’t hesitate as grabbed you by the cheeks and forced your mouth open for him before pushing your head down on his shaft. He made you take him all the way, something he knew you could handle perfectly. He sighed in pleasure, almost sounding relieved now that he had you where he needed you.

He fucked himself up into your mouth, not holding back at all. He knew you’d stop him if you needed to, but he knew even better than that that you could take it. More than that—you wanted to take it.

��This is how I should keep you, slut. With that disrespectful, pathetic mouth of yours full of my cock,” he spat out through gritted teeth.

You moaned around his cock in response, taking him even further back into your throat to let him fuck it deeper. Your mind was now clouded with lust, your vile thoughts agreeing with him completely, begging him to say more.

Whether he could read your mind or if your thoughts simply screamed loud enough for him to hear, he continued his verbal assault on you. “That’s right, filthy whore. Take daddy nice and deep. You don’t need to breathe, you only need my cock.”

Your eyes practically rolled back into your head, your pussy clenching tight in anticipation and desire. Feeling the vibration of your moan while his dick was being squeezed so well by your throat had Grayson throwing his head back and stilling as he reached his peak. He kept his cock nestled deep in your throat, the hot cum nearly choking you.

Grayson held your head in place still, his grip on your hair more intense. “Swallow it,” he growled, his eyes fixated on your pretty lips nearly kissing his hips with his cock buried in your throat.

You screwed your eyes up tight as you focused on swallowing around his dick, but after a second you managed to do it. Grayson’s moans were pure sin, his cock twitching as he felt your throat move around him.

When he was done using you, he pulled you off him and pushed you carelessly to the side. You gasped for air, your entire chin and chest covered in your own saliva (and probably a bit of cum, too). You didn’t get much of a break, because as soon as Grayson pushed you away from him, Ethan pulled into their driveway.

He parked hastily and practically jumped out of the car as soon as he turned the ignition off. He yanked the back door open, managing to be even more aggressive than Grayson had been. Driving here was pure torture for him. He had already been hard when you’d put on that show at the bar, but hearing you take Grayson into your throat and knowing how velvety you would feel around him had made him nearly dizzy with lust.

“Meet us inside,” he mumbled to his brother, grabbing you ruthlessly by the arm and pulling you out of the car.

You stumbled after him, whining as his fingers dug into your skin—which only made him grip you harder. Not even ten steps past the door, he had you bent over the back of his couch and your pants and underwear were discarded haphazardly on the floor. He rubbed his cock teasingly between your ass cheeks, moaning at the feeling of your body against him.

He angled his cock down slightly to line himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you in one swift motion. You screamed at the suddenness of his movement, your pussy clenching tightly around him as he stretched it.

He moaned in ecstasy, his grip on your hips holding you tightly in place. “Fuck, [Y/N], you took that so well,” Ethan praised, leaning forward to grab your hair the same way Grayson had. He pulled your head back while keeping one hand on your hip, making you arch your back toward him. “The question is, are you that wet? Or...” he leaned in closer to you, hunching his body over yours, “are you just that much of a whore?”

You let out a high-pitched moan, delighted by his grip on you and how deep inside you he was. “I’m a whore, sir,” you answered him, your voice coming out more whiny and needy than before.

The change in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Ethan. “You’re not so versatile right now, are you, [Y/N]?”

You shook your head as best you could with his fist still full of your hair. “No, sir. I’m just a whore. Just a filthy, slutty whore.”

Ethan hummed contentedly at your response, finally moving his hips. He stood back up to his full height, pounding into you with brute force. With each snap of his hips, you cried out, almost involuntarily. The power behind his thrusts was enough to force sounds out of you, though his dominance and control had you screaming in pleasure.

After a few brutal minutes, Ethan pushed himself completely in you and stilled his movements, his deep moans and twitching cock telling you he’d just reached his peak. He finished inside you, pulling out as soon as he was done. He let go of you, your body falling limply against the couch.

You leaned on the furniture for support, your legs completely spent. You were completely exhausted from being used so brutally, but at the same time, you’d loved every second of it.

Grayson, who had come in and simply sat on a nearby chair to watch the show, now stood and walked towards you. You looked up at him from your awkward position, being slightly bent over the couch. You were taken aback by a sudden and harsh slap to your ass, the force behind it enough to make you fall to your knees.

“Crawl to my room,” he said coldly, indicating that your punishment was far from over.

You crawled along the hardwood floors as you were told to, fighting the fatigue that was threatening to settle in your muscles. By the time you reached Grayson’s room, your knees were aching terribly. You waited for his command to stand up, and when it came and you stood, you saw towels laid out on his bed. You already knew the night would only get terribly longer.

With an impatient shove, Grayson urged you to get on the bed. He moved around you to tie you to his headboard to stop you from fighting against your next punishment. As always, you could always tell them to stop, and they would—though you couldn’t imagine wanting to.

Your wrists pulled on your restraints, testing them—they were secure, and you were helplessly bound. You already knew the sweet torture that awaited you. This was a punishment they reserved for the most extreme acts of disobedience—and, to be fair, you would definitely class your behavior tonight as falling under that category.

Grayson sat on the bed next to you, clad only in his underwear, eyeing you with animosity in his stare. You’d honestly never seen either of them so angry before. And if you had pushed them to this point, there was no telling what point they’d be pushing you to.

Ethan walked into Grayson’s room a moment later, also dressed in only his boxers. Since Ethan had thrown your pants and underwear to the side before, you were left in your top and your bra—but Grayson was quick to tear them off your body with the effortlessness of a god.

Ethan approached you with an object in his hand you were all too familiar with: the Magic Wand vibrator. Your heart rate spiked as you anticipated your punishment, your eyes wide and alert.

“You know your actions have consequences, [Y/N]. Don’t act all innocent now. You certainly weren’t acting innocently while you were trying to get an entire bar of men to fuck you,” Ethan spat, sitting on your other side and settling next to you.

I was trying to get two guys there to actually want me, you thought spitefully. You bit your tongue to save the conversation for later, during your aftercare.

Instead of mouthing off and getting in more trouble, you simply responded, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now lay there and take it,” Grayson said, his eyes glued to where your thighs met.

With that, Ethan turned on the vibrator and pressed it against your clit. The vibrations built you up to your orgasm quickly, but per your punishment, Ethan removed the vibrator before you could cum. The first few times weren’t so bad; it was almost nice. You walked the edge of release, your womb tightening and your walls flexing in desperation as you were denied release again and again.

After that point, though, was the reason your wrists were bound and you had one of the twins on both your sides. You quickly crumbled from the intensity of the teasing, your pussy practically aching for release. You were pushed to desperation and sensitivity quickly, your legs shaking and eventually trying to kick them away. They held your legs in place, preventing you from escaping your punishment.

After a short while, Ethan could barely even touch you with the vibrator from how close you were. You were sweating profusely, on the verge of tears from how desperate you were, whining wantonly and begging for release. This was only the first half of your punishment.

You’d regret begging to cum within ten minutes. Finally, after being edged for nearly twenty minutes, Ethan pressed the vibrator against you and let you cum. Your body jolted and shivered as you reached your sweet release, squirting from the intensity of your pleasure.

The pleasure was short lived. Ethan kept the vibrator pressed against your hypersensitive clit, your body convulsing through another two orgasms before the pain of overstimulation crashed over you. You were screaming so loud Grayson had to reach a hand up to cover your mouth. You were reduced to hysteric sobs before they decided that you’d probably learned your lesson.

As soon as Ethan turned off the vibrator, they both began to take care of you, showing you gentleness that you almost forgot they were capable of. Grayson worked to untie you from the headboard, massaging your wrists and placing kisses along your forearms.

Ethan went to Grayson’s closet and picked out a shirt for you to sleep in, leaving it with Gray to help you get dressed as he got some water for you. Grayson removed the towels soaked in your cum from his bed, treating you as though you were a precious flower in his garden.

You reached your arms out to him, craving his gentle touch, and he obliged you immediately. He wrapped you up in his secure embrace, and the feeling of his arms around you brought a twinge of sadness to you as you remembered why this had all started in the first place.

When Ethan brought you your water, you drank it down quickly before handing him the empty glass. You reached out for him as well, and like his brother, he was quick to comply to your request.

You were wrapped up between them, feeling safer than you’d ever felt anywhere else. You tried not to cry, but in your vulnerable state, the effort was futile. They both cooed at you softly, wondering with heavy hearts if they’d pushed you too far.

But that was far from the truth. “I just—I ju—hmph—I just want to be yours,” you finally got out between sobs.

Ethan and Grayson shared a look, and in the space between them—where, of course, you were lain—they seemed to decide it was only right for them to be exclusive with you. Sure, it was strange and could lead to a lot of complications in the future, but they’d worry about those when they got there. For the moment, you belonged exactly where you were, between them.

“[Y/N], baby,” Grayson started.

“You are ours,” Ethan finished, pressing his lips softly to your cheek. “You’re all ours.”

#WHEWWWW Y'ALL THIS ONE .....#enjoy ;)#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #dolan twins #ethan dolan smut #grayson dolan smut #dolan twins smut #ethan dolan x reader #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins x reader #concept #dolan twins blurb

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ootori-sibs · 3 years

Text

Kyoya's second shot

Episode nineteen: Kyoya's sense of self!

Tw: assault, self harm, self hate

“Thanks for waiting for me, Kyoya.” Tamaki looked so tired, toying with his own hair nervously. He kept glancing down the hallway, clearly upset at having been yelled at. Kyoya couldn’t blame him, he hated being yelled at as well. Unfortunately Kyoya couldn’t comfort him as he wasn’t supposed to be aware, so he gave a soft half-smile and stepped forward.

“How did it go? Who was it?”

At that, Tamaki promptly burst into tears, clinging to Kyoya tightly, “she kissed me! She kissed me and then Haruhi yelled at me and- and…” he just started to wail at that point, clinging to Kyoya even tighter. Kyoya hated emotions and he had absolutely no idea how to deal with this, especially when the other hosts came out to see what all the noise was about.

“It’s alright, maybe she’s not really angry at you?” Kyoya remembered that when he was tiny and people still cared about him, how his older siblings would just pick him up whenever he was upset, not much else, just lift him up. Sadly, Kyoya wasn’t strong enough to pick Tamaki up, he was struggling to even hold him up as Tamaki cried.

The hosts helped Tamaki into the room, the twins asked what happened but Kyoya ignored them, cradling Tamaki to the best of his ability. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Tamaki…” to anyone hearing, he was whispering condolences to his friend, but for Kyoya, the statement was so much more. Kyoya felt incredibly guilty, that's why plan b had been a last resort, Kyoya hadn’t wanted to hurt Tamaki this much. He’d made Tamaki cry and he felt absolutely horrid and filthy about it.

After a while, Haruhi returned to the club room, looking furious. She sat down, clearly seething. The hosts swarmed her, asking what had happened, why was Tamaki crying? Haruhi told them that Sieka had kissed Tamaki, and that she had told Haruhi that he’d willingly gone to meet her. Tamaki couldn’t deny this, but honestly he wasn’t even trying, he was too busy crying. The hosts were clearly torn on who’s side to take, as Haruhi had clearly been wronged but Tamaki had clearly also been wronged, and he was the one crying about it.

“The letter wasn’t signed, he only went because he wanted to know who it was and why they’d write that kind of letter when the entire school is fully aware that he’s with you.” Kyoya glared daggers at her, knowing that it was a risky move, but he genuinely didn't care at this point, how dare she yell at Tamaki, "you're being selfish to think you were the only one hurt by that happening, look at him. Take a good look at that man and tell me you're angry at him, go ahead, we all know you don't love him so you have no right to scream at him for being assaulted!"

He'd stood up at that point, towering over Haruhi, who looked shocked and even guilty. The other hosts were shocked, but there were murmurs of agreement, then Honey spoke up, "Kyo-chan has a point… it really wasn't Tama-chan's fault."

Haruhi sighed, and took a step backwards, hand over her face, "god… I know, I know, I'm sor-"

"If you knew, then why would you scream at him?" Kyoya crossed his arms, moving his head slightly so the light stopped hiding his eyes and the other hosts could see the tears in his own eyes, "I'm getting to the end of my tether with you, Haruhi, if you hurt my friend again I swear-"

"Kyo-chan, calm down."

Kyoya tensed up, glancing back at him, then to Tamaki, the tears freeing themselves and spilling down his cheeks. He huffed and stormed out of the room, not wanting the others to see him cry. Once again his own guilt consumed him, he wondered if he was even allowed to feel guilty, wasn't he too evil for that at this point? He just went to sit in the library, cursing himself for leaving his laptop in the clubroom. He took out his notebook and a pen, entering a quick entry.

12:30 -I snapped at Haruhi, she’s angry at Tamaki, tamaki hasn’t done anything wrong. Sieka kissed him, it wasn’t like he wanted it. Although I suppose she’s supposed to get angry.

Kyoya wasn’t a fan of sketching with pen, but he didn’t have any pencils on hand. So he really had no choice, he didn’t even know what he was drawing, all he knew was that there were no construction lines in said drawing. It seemed to be a figure, surrounded by others, all eyes on the centre, a devil, an evil entity with no care for the pain behind him. Was this how Kyoya saw himself? Or was this just a thoughtless doodle? Even Kyoya didn't know.

Back in class, Tamaki quietly informed Kyoya that Haruhi wouldn't be joining them for the sleepover, or any of the after-session meetings for the week. Kyoya was fine with this, but expressed guilt for having snapped at her the way he did, glancing away from Tamaki as he did so. Tamaki seemed upset by this, putting a gentle hand on Kyoya's shoulder, "Kyoya… it's ok, I understand you're angry at her, you have every right to be. In fact, I'm happy that you're looking out for me, I don't know what I'd do without you."

He couldn't get those words out of his mind, what would Tamaki do without him… oh that was wonderful, to think Tamaki needed him, to think Tamaki appreciated him… it made Kyoya's heart swell. He simply adored the idea of Tamaki needing him, of course Tamaki needed him; who else was going to protect him from Haruhi? At first, Kyoya had thought he was the villain, he was willing to be the villain and just go full throttle into it… but as things progressed, he began to think that the villain was actually Haruhi. She didn't love Tamaki, she yelled at him, she was willing to brag about not loving him… she was so cruel, poor Tamaki didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

It was ok though, Kyoya would protect him. Kyoya wasn't willing to let his darling best friend get hurt, crush or no crush. The fact that Tamaki recognised and approved of Kyoya's defence of him, it made Kyoya so very very happy. He carried his newfound pride really well, standing up a little straighter and carrying himself better. The difference was visible but no one asked about it, probably because they were too scared. It had been a while since Kyoya seemed so together.

The rest of the day went by wonderfully, with nothing going wrong. Kyoya was quite happy, although the other hosts seemed a little hung up about the day's events. Whilst hosting, Haruhi kept glancing towards Tamaki, but Tamaki didn't even glance back at her, and that was the best feeling for Kyoya, he was finally getting his way. Haruhi was finally getting what she deserved, she should never have hurt Tamaki like that. It was her own fault.

By the end of the day, Tamaki was still being loud and excitable, but there was an underlying level of pain there. Kyoya did his best to keep Tamaki's mind away from Haruhi, even going so far as to suggest that Tamaki come over to his place for a little while. Obviously Tamaki was excited at the idea, and they were very quickly sitting in the limo, with Tamaki babbling on about all the fun things they could do once they got there. Kyoya didn't say much, just stared at him from behind his glasses, enjoying the sound of Tamaki's voice.

He couldn't help but to wonder how it was for Sieka, how did it feel to kiss Tamaki? Kyoya knew Tamaki wore lipgloss, he couldn't remember what flavour Tamaki had said it was though, so he wasn't sure how it would taste but he knew it would be good. Tamaki hadn't wanted to kiss Sieka, so he likely didn't cooperate with her, but Kyoya couldn't help but imagine how amazing a kiss that was precipitated would be, the way Tamaki moved would be felt through every breath, life and love flourishing on his tongue as the world melted away… just the idea was enough to drive Kyoya mad.

That evening was wonderful, they listened to music and did homework together. Kyoya found it easier to bring himself to do things when Tamaki was there, he wasn't sure if it was the aura of energy or the pressure to look good in front of his crush. The reason didn't really matter, but the main point was that Kyoya was enjoying spending some time with Tamaki. After around two hours, or maybe an hour and a half, Tamaki spoke up with something that caught Kyoya off guard.

"Have you been hurting yourself lately?"

Oh, Kyoya hadn't been expecting that. He suddenly felt unsure, had he? He struggled to recall, the entirety of last week had been a blur for him really, so he wasn't sure what was what. “Well my bodyguards took my razors so…” that was before getting grounded wasn’t it? For some reason Kyoya knew he remembered sitting on the bathroom floor at some point that week and- “the scissors,” his words took the both of them off-guard, Tamaki glanced up from where he had been gazing at the cup of tea in his hands.

“What?”

“I took the twins' fabric shears... “ Kyoya paused for a moment, realising that his victory of memory was not going to be as much of a victory in Tamaki’s eyes, and that he’d just confessed to more self harm. “I…” the weight of what he’d just told the blonde dawned on him and he remembered how he’d promised to never let Tamaki see him like that again, “I’m sorry…”

He hadn’t been expecting to be sweeped up in a big hug and given small kisses on the top of his head, Tamaki had shouted something in french and continued to murmur french words to him softly as Kyoya just sat there in his arms. It was wonderful and though Kyoya was shaking he still felt tingles on his skin every time it brushed against Tamaki’s own. Only when the air was still and Kyoya had stopped crying- he had been crying? Only when there was silence did Tamaki speak words that Kyoya understood, pressing their foreheads together, “never apologize for that, ok? It wasn’t me you hurt, I’m just upset because I care about you and don’t want to see you hurt. The person you’re hurting is yourself, but I think that person doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. You're hurting my best friend, Kyoya, can you promise me you’ll stop hurting my best friend? I know you’re in pain, I know that’s why you caused more, and I’m trying to help you, okay? But I can’t help if you don’t let me, please tell me if there's something I can do to make you feel better, is there?”

Kyoya didn’t want to move, making the barest little nod possible, but Tamaki understood and smiled. He didn’t want to speak as he spoke, hearing his voice and how pained and weak he sounded, it was awful… “can you stay with me tonight..? I don't want to be alone…"

Surprisingly, Tamaki agreed, and he even set up a blanket and pillow fort for them to sit in. Kyoya could be distracted from his all consuming guilt for a moment or two when Tamaki pulled him in close and wrapped a blanket around the both of them, he was so warm… it was hard to think in a situation like that. With every slow breath and chuckle that made Tamaki's chest shift just a little, with every little blue or gold sparkle in his violet eyes that seemed like the stars in the sky, with every little hum that left his lips and floated in the air giving off warmth, Kyoya fell just a little more in love.

Love was a funny thing; Kyoya had always thought it was stupid, just a chemical reaction, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was actually a very romantic person. There was nothing Kyoya wanted more than to simply be help by someone who saw him, someone who understood who he was and who he wanted to be. That was what made this so much worse, the fact that Kyoya was now a horrible person made him scared for Tamaki to see him for what he was. He would never be seen, he could never be loved… not like this.

The thing that brought Kyoya hope, however, was the fact that Tamaki had always been one to look through a person, to see the person they wanted to be. He'd always encouraged Kyoya to be the person Kyoya had always dreamed to be, but now that dream was unclear; constantly shifting and changing, Kyoya didn’t know who he wanted to be anymore, it was so strained and fuzzy for him. The idea of the true self was slipping from his grasp as he made each step towards what he wanted, narrowly avoiding his doom at the hands of his own psyche. It was beginning to grow too much for even him to handle, but he didn’t trust himself to even try to do anything about it, what if he hurt people more?

A song, a lullaby in a tongue too foreign for Kyoya to understand, but familiar enough for him to name it. Tamaki ran his fingers through the villain’s hair, grounding Kyoya as he let the words wrap like a blanket. He was singing softly, Kyoya couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard tamaki sing- had he ever? The sound was wonderful, something to make him relax. Kyoya was a beast in that moment, an animal, he didn't trust himself to speak nor move, only laying, shivering in the blonde’s arms. Kyoya thought back to how he’d hurt everything, the people he’d cared for. He silently prayed for forgiveness, not to any god- Kyoya wasn’t a man of faith, but he had faith in his friends, he hoped when the truth came undone, they’d see through his actions to see who he was inside.

He made a promise, to them and to himself; there would be no pain caused nor received all week, they all deserved a reprieve. Kyoya knew he had a large amount of control over the pain his friends were experiencing, but as he caught a glimpse of the sadness in Tamaki’s eyes, he prayed Haruhi would allow them all to rest.

#kyoya ootori #ouran high school host club #tamaki souh #tamakyo #haruhi fujioka #Seika Ayanokoji

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rhywhitefang · 3 years

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Blank Rune + Inner Shadow characters ranked by how much you can trust them to babysit your children

Mary Poppins is seething in envy:

- Avery; Hugger of children and literal angel. There’s no better option. No, you cannot change my mind. Your children will come back, happy, safe, and goth. They will form an unbreakable bond devils bargain of friendship

- Jademis: Smart, responsible, and nice. What better qualities for someone to take care of your kids? Not only is she capable, she actually cares about doing her job AND she will probably help your kids with their math homework also.

- Coal: Obviously an amazing choice. Not only does he have common sense and makes responsible choices, they are also fun! I can also see Coal really liking kids which makes him great for this.

- Caravel: On her own? God tier, no question. She takes her job incredibly seriously, gets attached to the kids immediately, and will defend them with her life. She will give them great food but also be responsible and also the kids will love her. Her taste in men is not her fault!

- Kester: He is literally a dad. The only reason why he’s ranked lowest in this tier is for slight overprotective tendencies, but you know what? That’s also a good thing. He would also LOVE tormenting your little ones with his dad jokes :)

- Idokras: This is a really protective person who is really enthusiastic and will do anything to keep them safe. Fun, but also strict enough to discipline them without being too harsh. The kids will have a great time!

Great tier:

- Acorn: Nice, smart, and full of great advice. Has kind of a hands-off approach which is why he’s not in the first tier, but overall a very solid choice.

- Fatima: Why is Fatima so low, you ask? She is across both stories the character with the most solid moral compass.She is responsible. She cares about their safety and wants them to be not traumatised. Perfect! But on her own, she is a bit awkward and “no fun” around kids. However!! If Oxyll joins her the pair of them instantly move up to God tier.

- Astrid: Astrid is amazing! I don’t even have anything negative to say that put her down, she’s all around great! No complaints! Just not so extraordinary as to put her any higher, but if you chose her as your babysitter, your kids will have fun and learn some wilderness skills.

- Soleya: Probably already makes mad cash babysitting. Smart, responsible, snarky. Shame she’s not the biggest fan of children.

- Sora: Sora is a literal angel. An actual disney princess. A precious flower who is soft and nice and will take good care of your children. She can be a bit of a pushover though!

- Rhy: Canonically a great babysitter. Fun, good with children, and just all around a charmer. Maybe not the great role model, but I’ll doubt you’ll have any complaints about him.

Decent enough:

- Oxyll: Also dad energy, but lesser efficiency than Kester. He’s more oblivious, and way less of a grip on the kids. He’s fine, but definitely not the best. Again, though, if you combine his powers with Fatima, they become god tier together.

- Skipio: Decent enough, responsible, and will do his damnest to keep your little ruffians out of trouble. He’s gonna be strict with them, too - which is also his downside. Your kids won’t want them back.

- Tave: He’s doing his best! He’s trying! Who knows, maybe he can work himself up the tier list. For now he’s getting an E for effort.

- Kain: A good boy! He’ll try to look out for them, but also, he’s very stupid, so emphasis on “try”

- Pan: I don’t think he’s really a “kids” kinda guy, and probably won’t know what to do with them. Still, he’ll try his best to keep them alive.

- Agnes: Honestly, considering the fact that she’s like, what? 14? This is hella impressive. A responsible girl! I’m very proud of her!

- June: Your kids will love her! She’ll let them ride on her motorcycle, stay up past 2 am, and let them eat as many cookies as they want!

Meh Tier

- Lyn Amara: Completely uninterested in your brats. I guess if you paid her, she’d pay attention though.

- Ash: Can be bribed into doing a good job, and depending on the kid might also grow attached enough to do it out of their own volution, but they might also not bother.

- Blake: He just wants to sit in his barrel, bro.

- Anianno: His honor demands him that he protects him from threats and he’ll definitely run head first at any large animal that tries to attack them.

- Tilly: Stimulate your childrens creativity! Teach them valuable life lessons! Repeat after me: Murder is okay :)

- Laure: I mean, she *might* sacrifice them to her death cult but I feel like she’d be responsible about it, yaknow?

- Wren: That’s a bit too much responsibility for our anxious little bean. They will try their best though!

You Might as well have left them alone

- Allen: This is the same as leaving them alone.

- Swift: Will probably get distracted & overhwlemed.

- Copper: Anxious chihuaha. Will cry.

- Jakob: Oh boy... probably not the greatest idea. I mean, he’ll try his best, but I can’t see this going too well. Maybe they can write sad poetry together?

- Finn: He does nothing for them and might accidentally... drop them.

- Elvin: He’s a baby but at least not actively completely irresponsible, and has some physical capabilities? He’s really dumb tho.

- Phillip: He will ditch them half way through the night to go fight and/or make out with his boyfriend

- Prion: Too busy staring at himself in the mirror.

- Lexa: Herself a baby and also has no concept of fear or danger. Don’t.

- Kyra: Might steal their arms... but eh, too small.

- Barnacle: Looking at his intentions and general vibe, it’s great! He is a soft cuddly sweetheart, who I can totally see liking children. He’s also a mess and a disaster and a huge pushover. Also, what do kids eat again? Here have some uhhhhhh...... leaves from outside?

Just.... Bad:

- Delta: Do you want your kids babysat by a cat?

- Liam: I mean... look at the job he did with June. He kept her alive and fed, I guess. So, congrats on achieving the bare minimum, but he’s definitely not getting any awards here. And theres you know, him being an evil shithead.

- Midas: As irresponsible as they get and also kind of a shithead. There’s a chance he might use your child as a football.

- Mikash: He is baby, dont give him this kind of responsibility!

- Arna + Firmin: The irresponsible children squad. Why would you let them babysit your irresponsible children??

- Dareios: Canonical child hater and overall horrible person. The only reason he’s not in the shit tier is that if you payed him, your children will survive. He will treat them horribly though.

KEEP THEM AWAY FROM THE BABIES

- Artemisia: Well she might kill the kids, but unlike the rest of the people in this tier, here your kids might have a chance of survival ‘cause Misi is not that interested in them and might ignore them and do something else instead.

- Rubin: trash garbage man who will misuse your kids as “squires” for his fucked up murder tournaments

- “Ethan”: Almost the absolutel worst option. He is a terrible influence. We remind the reader that when Caravel asked him to get something to eat for the kids, he brought chips and alcohol. Awful role model, and thats not even getting into the fact that he literally murdered the two children in his care. Might not even keep your kids alive if you pay him!

- Esca: No :(

#blank rune #inner shadow

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inspirationdivine · 3 years

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Curtain Call || Lydia, Orion, Winston, Luce, Athena

Timing: Current Parties: @inspirationdivine @3starsquinn @danetobelieve @divineluce @athenaquinn Summary: After being forced to leave town by Kaden, Lydia prepares for her next steps. Others have different ideas. Warnings: Drug manipulation (leanan sidhe kiss), references to abuse, gore tw, minor vomit tw (mentions)

Now that her arm was healing and her wing was taped together, walking was almost bearable. Lydia was also running high on painkillers, so her entire body felt like it was wrapped in cotton gauze, numb to both the outside world and the inside one. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and with a wince, she pulled it out. It was Deirdre, calling again. It was practically muscle memory at this point to tap decline and put it away again, as it had been for the dozens of calls she’d gotten from the Banshee. It must have been the mushrooms or something. Deirdre was ever so susceptible to them. Lydia pursed her lips, before looking at Rio. “I can’t stress enough how grateful I am for all of your help. My, uh, my friend will be here in an hour. You don’t mind waiting that little bit longer, do you?” She looked around at the crowded evening streets from the passenger side of her car. “You probably need to eat, right?” She asked him.

Orion knew nothing about this friend of Lydia’s, but figured that waiting around until they got here wouldn’t kill him. For now, Rio was pretty sure that Lydia was safe from the hunter at least. That wouldn’t stop them from coming after her again, but Lydia must have felt safe with the friend who should be coming to get her or she wouldn’t have reached out to them in the first place. Rio wasn’t sure how long it had been since Lydia had first contacted him but he knew that he hadn’t gotten any sleep. He had pulled enough all nighters in the Scribrary to know how to function with little to no sleep, but that didn’t stop his stomach from growling. “It’s fine. I’m happy to stick around.” Rio smiled at the woman and leaned his head against the car window. “It’s not a big deal, I’m not that hungry. I can wait.” He was lying obviously, his stomach growling enough proof of that. But right now his only concern was making sure that she got away from here safely. He could worry about eating later.

Winston had not been having a good time since dealing with Bloody Mary and the Sandman; Orion had gone missing and it had been a rough ride to track him down (which Winston wouldn’t normally do with their boyfriend because CREEPY but these were unprecedented times). To make matters worse Todd had fallen off the surface of the Earth. He’d cut Winston off. Winston wasn’t sure what they had done to receive this sort of treatment, but there it was. It had been hard. Picking between going after Todd and going after Rio, but Winston hadn’t really had to think that much about the choice, it had sort of come naturally and Winston was sure that they had made the right call. They were weighed down with all manner of magical gadgetry as they followed the blinking light on their screen. “I don’t think they’re too far from here,” they whispered as they crept forward, knowing that Rio couldn’t be that much further away. Thank God for technomancy.

Of all the people Luce had expected to go up against Lydia with, Athena and Winston were pretty far at the bottom of her list. In fact, they were probably at the bottom. But, when she’d gotten the message from Athena, telling her about the situation, Luce had been only too willing to help. Help. That was… one way of describing what she was hoping to do. Murder, that was another word for it. A more accurate one. Fingers curling around the iron spear that she’d brought with her, Luce followed closely behind Winston. Who would have thought the neighbor kid would be leading the charge to fuck up a lady. “Mhm.” Luce nodded, the familiar grip of Lydia’s magic creeping up on her as she tried to figure out how to word things. She knew about Lydia, knew about her home and what she could do to people. But when Athena had told her about the situation, it had circumvented the fae magic that bound her to her promise. If the others already knew about Lydia , then it didn’t matter. “What’s our game plan, once we get there? I’ve got this,” She held the spear up, “But I can’t exactly just light up a bitch without there being some fall out.”

She knew this had to be done. Whatever came of all of it, Lydia couldn’t go on living. Not because of who she was, not because of what she’d done to Ariana and now, according to Winston, possibly to her brother. Athena couldn’t help but let the iron in her blood concentrate periodically to her fingertips, her lips in a firm line. She had a couple more knives on her body than usual, because whatever was going to happen, she couldn’t leave room for anything to go wrong. She was glad that she’d asked Luce to come along - working to take down that Cù-sìth those months ago had solidified Athena’s already present respect for the woman. “I think we should avoid the fire for now - we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. She’s lived a super-duper fucking long time,” she knew her words were biting and she didn’t care, “and that means she’s got to have ways of getting out of tricky situations. So I say we go in there, make sure my brother - make sure Ri’s all safe, and kill her. Plain and simple.” Even though she had to admit to herself that it was anything but.

“If you’re sure,” Lydia said softly. He was perfectly tolerable as far as humans went, and she’d rather keep the promises in her back pocket and keep her slate as clean as she could, at least in the eyes of those she still loved back in White Crest. She shifted, looking over the bandage on her arm to see if it needed changing. Nothing. When Lydia looked out the window, surveying the people on the road, she spotted someone she couldn’t believe was here. Lucinda Vural. Lydia looked out the right side of her window, clucking her tongue in frustration at the sight of traffic all around them. There was no easy way to drive out of here. The last thing she wanted was for Luce to find her smeared in her own blood and weak, for another way to be hurt by the Vurals. Being in a car in the vicinity of a fire spellcaster also frightened her. “We should go for a walk. Quickly, Rio. I’m so sorry.”

“A walk? What about your friend?” Orion found himself asking, but that didn’t seem to bother Lydia much. She was already climbing out of the car in a hurry. Rio only let himself rest for another second, letting out a held breath and staring up at the roof of the car before following her out of the car. She seemed shaken. Was the hunter back around? Was that what she had been freaking out about? Immediately, Rio began looking around the place, spotting a familiar face from a block or two over. “Luce?” Rio asked aloud, glancing over at Lydia. Could that be who she had spotted? Luce was scary but she wasn’t exactly a hunter. “Last time I saw her she punched me in the face.” Rio touched at the spot on his face on reflex, a ghost pain reminding him of how strong one of her punches could be when she was mad. But the memories dissipated quickly when the traffic broke, revealing two more faces with Luce that had previously been blocked by a car. “What the-” Rio froze in place, no longer walking alongside Lydia but instead trying to figure out why Winston and Athena were together. And here of all places. “I know them.” Rio was ready to wave before he hesitated. Lydia was a fae, and whatever trauma Athena was going through at the moment, she was a warden. She hadn’t been the hunter that had attacked Lydia, but she might be just as dangerous. “What is going on?” He turned on Lydia.

Luce wasn’t alone. That was worse, somehow. Perhaps her and Winston were on an out of town shopping trip for some reason, with the blonde girl Lydia didn’t recognise, but this was the wrong area to go for extended shop options. “I don’t know. Really, Rio, I have no idea why they’re here, but I don’t want to wait to find out if it’s a coincidence.” Lydia replied in hushed tones, already anxiously moving. “Let’s go.” She had no idea why any of them were here, but Lydia had seen at least a few times the kind of power Winston held. She also knew she had talked Todd through leaving Winston, although nothing should have connected her to that from their perspective.

She was seething. She could see her brother and she saw him look over. Athena had half a mind to run over right then, but she knew that she had to be careful. If not for her own life, for the lives of Luce, Winston, and her brother. She couldn’t let them die. Her skin was crawling and she wanted nothing more than to be away from Lydia, but she had to remind herself that she would be soon. “I - I don’t know why my brother - why he’s not…” Why he’s not coming over here. Though he sometimes had things planned far in advance but there was something about the whole situation that didn’t sit quite right with her, though the idea of her brother being around a murderous fae in the first place was more than enough to set her off. “We’ve got to act soon, but we also have to make sure she doesn’t hurt my brother - hurt Ri - in retaliation.” Her fingers found one of the knives pressed flush against her hip, letting the cool iron of it match the concentrated iron under her skin. “I think your spear will come in handy,” she whispered to Luce. “I don’t really care, as long as she suffers.”

Swallowing, Winston did their best to take in the entire situation. They knew that this was complex but right now the only priority that there was was to get Orion out of here without getting him hurt. Something that was easier said than done. “I’m sorry but I don’t really care about hurting Lydia, all I care is about getting Rio out of this. I don’t know why he’s playing along but…” Winston wasn’t sure that they really cared enough to explain their thought process. Tracking Rio had not been so difficult but the question of why he was willingly assisting Lydia remained. It was a promise bind situation was all that Winston could think. “I will concentrate on making sure Rio doesn’t get hurt,” Winston had designed tech specifically for a situation like this but like most of the tech that they came up with it hadn’t exactly been field tested until now, “but the faster we can do this… well the better.”

Wait, Rio was Athena’s brother? What fucking apples and what fucking trees... Luce shook her head-- now wasn’t the time to think about that. The two of them clearly had higher stakes in this than her. Athena and Winston wanted to make sure Rio was safe. Which was fair. But, that didn’t help the fact that he was definitely with Lydia. Letting out a sigh, Luce glanced around the busy roads. There was a lot of fucking traffic, a lot more innocent people than she could reasonably risk with her flames. Fire had a way of getting out of hand and this wasn’t the place for it right now. “Listen, the longer we stand here, the worse this is going to go. That bitch,” Luce growled, “Will do whatever it takes to get away. You two, find a way to cut her off, stop her from getting away. Try to get Rio away from her.” She said and shook her head, thinking of the way August had bent to her will. If he’d been kissed by her, Luce had no idea if it’d even be possible to get Rio back. “In the meantime,” Gripping the spear tightly in her hand, Luce watched for traffic and began to cross the road. The iron in her hands heated under her skin, her blood boiling. “Hey, Lydia. Long time no see.”

“Does Luce have a spear?” Orion asked incredulously, eyes growing wide as he remembered the damage she had done without any weapon at all the last time the two had run into each other. They did need to go, but Rio didn’t exactly want to. Something was happening. Rio found himself glancing back and forth between the three and Lydia. Something wasn’t adding up, but Rio knew enough about Athena and Luce to know that violence was definitely on their minds. Lydia was too injured to get away from any of them right now, especially a hunter. Counting on that, Rio slid in front of Lydia, blocking Luce’s path to her as she crossed the street. “Oh uh. Hey guys. What’s up?” He tried smiling, giving a small wave before tucking his hand behind his head and scratching at his neck nervously. He was so confused. He glanced at the three, eyes finally landing on Winston and staying there, the smile disappearing from his face as their eyes locked and Rio tried to figure out why they were here with the other two. “Funny running into you here, yeah?”

Lydia’s gaze flicked around, eyes narrowing. There was a tall department store not thirty feet away, with a flat roof, which meant there was likely rooftop access. Three blocks away, there was a safe loft where she could wait out her connection. Just fifty more minutes. Lucinda walked up close as Lydia took a nervous step back. Fucking Vurals. “That’s an iron spear,” she pointed out, her hand trembling. Rio knew these people. Shit. Maybe they really were here for Rio. But the steely stare of Lucinda told her that Rio was not the main concern. Lydia stood a little taller, her whole body aching. Her thigh buzzed again. “Did I not pay you enough for your magic, Winston? Did I not look after your human sacrifice well enough, Lucinda? I don’t even know who you are, another spellcaster, no doubt. If this is what Kaden Langley’s grace looks like, it’s not very impressive.” Lydia’s voice wobbled with nerves, even as her tone chilled like ice. “You would protect me, no matter what, wouldn’t you, Rio? You promised. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but they’re here to hurt me.”

“She’s hurt him and my-” Ariana. “Another good friend. She needs to suffer.” Athena nodded. “You can concentrate to make sure he doesn’t get hurt. He can’t.” I can’t live with myself if he did. I knew he was going to get in trouble with a fae one day. She couldn’t blame him though, not when there was a potential that he might not make it out of this alive. “We’ll make this efficient. That, among many other things, is something I can excel at.” She nodded at Luce and followed her across the road, hoping that the traffic would dissipate soon enough. She didn’t need innocent lives being lost, at least not as much as she could avoid. “Not so funny.” Athena’s eyes narrowed in response to her brother. “You -” her eyes widened, praying for him to somehow hear her thoughts. Not that such a thing was possible, but when they’d been children it had almost felt like it was. She hardened her gaze as it shifted over to where Lydia sat, her skin crawling. Not a spellcaster, she wanted to say. Wanted to hiss, even. She had no issues with spellcasters, but she was not one. Not at all. “Doesn’t matter who I am. I know enough about who you are.” Kaden has nothing to do with this. At least not the most significant part. As she turned to watch the exchange between her brother and Lydia, she couldn’t help but reach for her dagger again, though she didn’t remove it. You promised. “You didn’t.” Turning to look directly at her brother, Athena shook her head, doing her best to keep her breathing even. No.

That confirmed it. Promise bound. Great. Rio was too good for this world truly. Of course he was going to make a promise that he would be forced to keep. “Lydia, you definitely pay very well, I would’ve loved to have just worked for you, but you took Todd and now you’ve taken someone even more important and wrapped him up in a promise that he shouldn’t have to keep. I’m not going to make him break it, because that will hurt him more than I can allow, but I won’t let you keep doing this.” Winston fished into their pocket, pulling a number of tiny metal balls of twine from their pocket before tossing them through the air. The balls of twine sprouted tiny wire legs and began to scuttle towards Rio. They were made from iron. Everything had a hint of iron nowadays. Better for dealing with fae. “I’m really sorry Rio,” Winston watched as the wires of the twine reached out and began to wrap themselves around Rio’s feet. Hopefully this didn’t hurt them too much. Winston wasn’t sure if them preventing Rio from completing the promise would hurt Rio as well, they hoped not. But right now they had to deal with Lydia. She couldn’t go on.

When Rio stepped into her path, Luce had the uncomfortable flashback to the last time they’d run into each other. She’d been wrong then, yeah. And, as she heard Athena and Winston talk, as they pieced together the puzzle that she really didn’t care about, she had a feeling that she was going to be in the wrong again. But, it didn’t matter. Rio wouldn’t be hurt. Not in any real way compared to what she was going to do to Lydia. As Winston apologized, as they let loose their latest techno-magical marvel, she watched the way it curled around his legs. Probably not enough to stop him, but if she gave him a little help... Luce curled her free hand into a fist. “Sorry, Rio.” She said apologetically and punched the kid square in the face once more before quickly sidestepping him to face Lydia. Holding the short spear out to block the woman’s path, she offered a tight lipped smile. “I’d say you did your job too well, Lydia.” She said as she pressed forward. It was too open here, too many eyes. If they could just get away from the street. “Why don’t we have a nice little chat about just how good you are at what you do, huh?” Luce said, the threat of violence mounting with every step she took towards the Fae woman.

Everything happened quickly. Orion’s first instinct was to deny Lydia’s claims. He wouldn’t have promised her anything. “No- That can’t be… I didn’t-” But he kept trailing off. Back then, he hadn’t known she was a fae. She was a woman attacked by a monster in town and Rio was a hunter that had helped her. He had promised not to harm her. To protect her even. “Oh my god.” He had been so stupid. And now, everything made sense. Athena was helping Ariana look for the Fae that had killed her friend. Turned out, Rio had known her all along. His voice caught in his throat. He wanted to yell at Lydia, or to yell at the group but what was the point? This was all his fault. He had saved a monster, and now he had been trapped in her net. “Please don’t make me do that.” Rio finally spoke, begging Lydia to let him free. To stop him. The group caught on quickly, wires wrapping around Rio’s leg in an attempt by Winston to lock him into place, and seconds later another punch to the face by Luce threw him off balance. At least she apologized this time around. But as much as Rio wanted to fight against it and stay rooted in place, he felt his body moving on it’s own. “Crap. No, no, no.” He said to himself as he grabbed at the wires and began ripping them away from his legs. Don’t do this. He kept telling himself, forcing himself to stop. But he had promise bound himself to a freaking fae. “Stop me!” He yelled at the group. But he had already ripped most of the wires free and was reaching towards Luce to stop her from hurting Lydia.

If the blonde girl was going to act vague and detached, Lydia was going to dismiss her as entirely uninteresting. Luce and Winston were the clear threats here. “T-” Lydia frowned. They oughtn’t have been able to know about that. The detachment had been seamless, Todd’s last close connections hurt but not suspicious. In a year, no one would be able to find a single reference to DJ Dayze, but the transition had only barely started. No matter now, Todd would rot in that home of hers until she sent someone to pull him out, but she tucked that thought away. Apparently this human hunter was even more valuable than Todd. A bargaining chip. Lydia jumped back as Winston threw their gizmos on the floor, but the twine only went for Rio, not for her. Lydia’s mouth filled with saliva as her heart began to race, adrenaline numbing the searing pain in her back and arms. Luce aimed the spear she had once stolen from a red cap at Lydia, and Lydia swallowed. “I don’t want to make him fight you. If you all backed off, he would be home in a couple hours and no one would have any more issues. But that isn’t going to happen, is it?” The blonde girl’s hand twitched to something at her side, so Lydia’s did the same, slowly backing away from Lucinda’s spear. At the same moment that Rio stopped to reach for it, Lydia grabbed her own dagger and pushed it into his hand. “Your choice. Have fun.” Lydia spun and spat on a passer by, yelling for him to protect her too. She bolted down the street, licking her hand and spreading her toxin onto every human she could touch, leaving a wall of human shields in her wake. The department store would let her disappear, if she could reach it. Lydia’s phone buzzed again, as Lydia screeched in frustration. Surely Deirdre knew she would be busy?

The fae was hardly paying attention to her, but that suited Athena just fine. She relished when those who she hunted underestimated her. It just made their deaths all the more pleasurable in the end. She knew that she couldn’t let her guard down, not even for a moment. She winced briefly at Winston and Luce’s actions, but she felt her whole body tense up at her brother’s pleading. There was no work-around right now - who knew what sort of promises he’d been exactly manipulated into, and she couldn’t risk any further harm coming to him. She couldn’t lose him. Wouldn’t lose him. Except Lydia wasn’t going to go down easy. “I do not believe you.” She replied, simply, gaze focused. Focused on Lydia before it moved to her brother, and the dagger than Lydia had placed in his hand. “Ri, no.” She hissed, as Lydia spat on someone else and began to run away. “I - we can’t let her get away.” Athena began to move in the direction where Lydia had gone - dagger now removed and clearly visible. “We also can’t - the humans need to get out of this as unharmed as possible.” She moved toward her brother for just a moment, wondering if there was a way to get the dagger out of his hands. If she could be quick and swift enough to do so. She knew how he moved, usually.

Winston had seen this fae affect so many people. She had killed Ariana’s friend. She had taken Todd. She was doing all of this to Rio and now she was bringing in people who had absolutely nothing to do with it and bringing them into it all. Winston swallowed before watching Rio tear through the wire that was wrapping up his body. They really hadn’t wanted to hurt their but there wasn’t really much choice here. Willing the wires to unravel and then tighten around him, Winston fought back against Rio’s frankly incredible strength. Something that Winston would’ve normally marvelled at. Hurling more balls of twine his way, they watched as Lydia tried to make her exit. Reaching out with their mind Winston tried to sense the wires that would inevitably run through all of the streets and lanes. Unfortunately this wasn’t as densely populated an area as they would’ve normally liked and therefore there was not as much around them that they would be able to use. But they would make do. “I can only do so much with these balls of twine but I’ll try and stop Lydia from getting too far.” Winston watched as she darted through the crowd, there was a telephone line hanging overhead and Winston snapped the wire with their mind, causing the copper wire to lash downwards and wrap around Lydia’s leg. “Get the dagger off of Rio and we can deal with him once Lydia’s dealt with…” Winston was concerned however, they didn’t really want to substantially hurt their boyfriend but they were beginning to wonder if they didn’t have much other choice.

In an instant, the tension that had existed between them had exploded into motion, with action and reaction. Rio was tearing at the wires, now armed, Athena grasping the dagger, Lydia taking off through the crowd, setting up a wall of human shields between her and them. Luce gritted her teeth as one of the entranced bystanders positioned himself firmly between her and Lydia, his hands raising to block her. Hand to hand wasn’t her best skill, and neither was taking down people in a way that wouldn’t hurt them badly. Anger burning under her skin, Luce tried to focus on the sensation she’d had that night, when she’d willed the magic to crackle and explode into something more than just flame. Lightning, electricity, sharp and precise and deadly. She wanted it, needed it now more than ever. But, when she brought her hands up, outstretched and reaching for Lydia, a burst of blue flames were conjured instead. The flames caught on the clothes of the people around her, not caring who or what they consumed. And neither did the bystanders between them. They continued to block her path, even as the fire crawled along their bodies. “Fuck.” She swore before focusing her magic, pouring energy into killing the flames, smothering them. “Shit, shit, shit!” She swore.

Through her perforated ear, Lydia did not hear the overhead cable snap until it cracked around her ankle. Lydia toppled, screaming like she was being burned again as she caught her weight with just one arm. Unsuspecting humans moved close to help her out of misguided kindness, but the cable had split her skin where it had lashed her first and they were hesitant to reach out. Frightened of an electric shock. Lydia grabbed one passerby, smearing her spit on him until it numbed his fear. “Get it off me!” She shrieked. His hands frantically scrabbled at the cable, as she grabbed three others, including a teenager, to pry the cable off her leg. Winston wanted her dead, but they wouldn’t electrocute her with humans at stake, right? Lydia looked up as a couple humans screamed, staring in wide eyed horror at the fire melting clothes in the crowd. They didn’t falter as their skin burned, even if they yelled in pain. That was the point of the kiss, after all, that they would set themselves on fire to keep Lydia safe. The entrancing sight was extinguished just as quickly, and the copper wire was pried from her legs. “Help me up,” she snarled, and two arms picked her up from the waist. Dizzy with the ache of a dozen injuries, Lydia forced herself to turn on her heel and run again, pushing people out of the way as she went.

Orion didn’t want the knife that Lydia passed off to him, but he couldn’t seem to let it go. He had to protect Lydia. Even if his brain was telling him to stop, he had to protect her. His family had been warning him their entire lives not to fall into the trap, but here he was. As his grip tightened on the knife, Rio found himself gritting his teeth. It seemed like the only physical thing he could do to restrain himself. His muscles ached as he was forced to move forward despite trying so desperately to hold himself back. He could see the three around them, Luce moving towards Lydia, Winston trying to work their magic and Athena ready to pounce at Rio at any moment. All his mind could think about was how to stop all three of them from getting to Lydia. Luce and Winston both had dangerous magic and Athena had always been stronger than Rio had. It seemed like more of a losing battle, and while that’s exactly in actuality, the reality was that he had no choice but to try. He needed to stop Luce, she was closest. But before he could move, Athena leapt at him. He had grown up fighting her his entire life, but had never once won a battle. He had never wanted to fight her, but they had known all the same moves. They had grown up memorizing each other’s moves. But Rio was different than he had been before. He had been learning moves from someone else now. He slid past her arm, grabbing onto her wrist and twisting it behind her, finally pulling her entire arm behind her back in order to pin her. With his free hand he held the knife up, begging himself internally not to use it. He was forced to protect Lydia, but that didn’t mean he’d have to kill anyone. He just needed to fulfill his promise. If he slowed them down, that was protecting her. “I’m sorry.” Rio muttered, voice shaking in anticipation, “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” He tried to drive the point home before he braced his free hand on the other side of her arm and snapped them against each other, stomach flipping at the sound of bones cracking. “Please stop me.” Rio reminded her before discarding her and taking off for the other two.

There was almost too much happening at once - though Athena knew that she ought to have expected such. Given everything she knew about Lydia, she’d never expected this to be easy, but the very fact that this fae was so willing to take down innocent civilians just made her all the more reprehensible. She watched Winston and Luce work their magicks, though she couldn’t help but wince as Luce’s aim missed - though it was through no fault of her own - and hit a person rather than Lydia. She didn’t have too much time to focus, though - because she could see her brother move, the knife still far too shiny in his hands, looking incredibly out of place. It didn’t suit him, and not for the first time, she just wanted to make things better. Wanted to take on whatever he was feeling, even if she was furious that he’d managed to get himself into this, that he’d managed to get promise-bound to one of the most vile fae she had ever encountered. She leapt at him for a moment, but before she knew what was happening she could feel his hand grab her wrist and twist it behind her back and she didn’t change her expression, ignoring the slight pain that shot through her body. He was stronger, now, somehow, and she found herself admiring this fact for a split second before she heard his voice shaking - and she didn’t cry - their parents had taught them to avoid that, because in the end it could be used as a distraction - but she wanted to, wanted to take away all the terror that was in his voice. She watched him raise the knife up for a moment and her eyes widened. She’d seen him in their kitchen. She knew what he could do, but she hoped that something, somehow would allow him not to use that. He lowered his other arm until both were on the side of her arm - her non-dominant one, she noted, before she heard the snap and bit down on her lip hard -- too hard -- so that she wouldn’t scream. “It’s fine. You’re safe. It’s -” she felt herself sinking down onto the ground, looking over towards where Winston and Luce were. Ignoring whatever her brother was doing. “Corner Lydia. I can - I can do this, we just need to get her somewhere and…” she scrunched up her face. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Winston heard the dull crunch of bones and swallowed feeling slightly queasy. But they had to overcome this. They had to stop Lydia. People were going to help Todd, they were going to help everyone that was under her control and now it was Winston’s responsibility to help deal with this. She had been abusing her abilities for too long and people were getting hurt. Concern flashed across Winston’s face and they dashed onwards. Their lungs burning in protest at this much exercise and sweat speckling their brow. They’d never gotten the hang of running. They honestly weren’t entirely sure how people did it to keep fit and despite every occasion in which they had been forced to sprint away from something trying to kill them they were never going to get used to this. But they didn’t have time to reach for their inhaler right now. They knew that Athena was right, they couldn’t wait for her on this though the injury that she had just sustained looked painful. Swallowing nervously, Winston pushed through the people around them. They were slowing them down and Winston couldn’t afford the delay. Reaching out with their magic once more, Winston grasped the wires everywhere and quickly began to force them to snap taught. The metal rose from walls, concrete and even street lights like thin snakes, wrapping around the civilians and pulling them out of the way. “We need to corner her!” It was an unfamiliar town for all of them, but Winston had technology on their side -- as always-- and was quickly able to pull up a street layout. “Luce, force her to go left.” The amount of will that they were exerting on keeping everything in place was … significant and they weren’t sure how long they could keep this up. They needed to end this and fast.

Luce winced as she heard the snapping of bone, heard Rio apologize, but didn’t hear the slightest sound from Athena. Well. Good thing she wasn’t on the girl’s shit list, because fuck. The Murder Siblings were scarier than she’d clocked them. Nodding at Athena’s shout, she continued to charge after Lydia but the fact remained-- her magic wasn’t of any use right now, not when there were too many innocent bystanders who would get caught in the literal line of fire. But, Winston was on top of that-- they always were. More cables shot from the ground, like tendrils, and grabbed at the enraptured pedestrians, restraining them. Not for the first time, Luce was grateful for their abilities, both of the magical and problem solving variety. They’d managed to create a narrow pathway through the bodies, straight towards Lydia. “Got it!” Luce yelled as she ran through the crowd. While Winston might have stopped them from being able to bar the path, Luce gritted her teeth as the people thrashed and kicked and hit, the blows landing against her as she ran. Nails scratched at her skin, drawing blood, and she felt one of the hands yank against the choker around her neck. The material closed around her neck and she let out a strangled snarl before incinerating the thin ribbon with a burst of flame. “You can’t fucking run from us, bitch!” She yelled as she sprinted towards Lydia and threw the iron spear, aiming for the space in front of her. The iron spear skewered the side of a plastic newspaper stand box, effectively barring Lydia’s path.

Her Aos Sí preferred to practice chasing than being chased. They didn’t focus on it, considering it beneath themselves to spend more time thinking about Hunters than was utterly necessary, but one thing they had always stressed was that looking behind you would only slow you down. Lydia’s mouth filled with saliva even as she gasped for breath, and the more she ran, the less fussy she was as to who she spit on. Children were no longer off limits as she yelled for them to protect her. The whistling in one ear only grew louder the harder she had to breath, each step searingly painful with every injury from the last few days. Lydia was dizzy from it all, dizzy because her left ear didn’t work thanks to Regan’s temper tantrum. She couldn’t ignore her pain like Deirdre, or disguise it like Felix, or heal like Remmy, and she was beginning to slow, grabbing a random human for support so that she didn’t lose her balance. Lydia couldn’t hear what was happening behind her, couldn’t hear Luce’s scream or Winston’s yells, or that her human shield had a highway right through it. It sounded like she was winning, even as she stumbled, clutching her side, her breathe laborious and agonising.

Lydia didn’t hear anything at all until a spear shot past her, punching through the newspaper stand and quivering. She turned right, staring at Luce for only a split second before spitting on a burly man and pushing him towards Luce. “RIO!” She screamed, “PROTECT ME!” Lydia turned on her heel and ducked through a back alley, which in turn twisted right, into a space full of dumpsters and a large garage for some kind of delivery van. Lydia skidded to a stop, wincing as she almost tripped over her own feet again. All the buildings joined together. Lydia jogged over to peer around a drain pipe, where she could get through to the other street… if there hadn’t been a fence in the way. “No-” Lydia breathed, spinning around. “There has to be-” There was a five storey building to her right, with a large fire escape down the side. “Thank god,” Lydia said, dropping the glamour on her wings and running over to it, launching herself into flight. Lightning speared through her back, Lydia screamed as she crumbled to the ground, her knee skidding through a week old abandoned ready meal from McDonalds. Kaden Langley had shredded her wing - without it, she could not reach.

There wasn’t a lot of time to figure out a plan, and Orion couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t messy. Physically compelled to help this woman who had hurt Ariana and murdered one of her friends. Forced against his will to fight against his own friends and sister. How did Rio complete his promise without hurting the ones that he loved? He caught up to Winston quickly, diving into them and causing them both to crash against the ground. Rio rolled away from them quickly and pushed back up onto his feet. “You have to stop me” Rio told Winston. Rio brandished the knife again, the thing burning against his palm. “No, no, no” Rio fought against himself. He couldn’t hurt Winston. Not anymore than he already had. Not with this stupid knife. Rio was frantic. He didn’t know how to stop himself. He glanced behind him to see Luce still hot on Lydia’s trail. “Damn it!” Rio called it, spinning from Winston. He needed to slow Luce down. But he didn’t want to hurt her. Unfortunately, as was the case with Athena, he didn’t think that was possible at the moment. He repositioned the knife in his hand, “I’m sorry” he mumbled his apologies to Luce before aiming and hurling the thing at her, aiming for her leg. Enough to slow her down, not to permanently injure her. “Knock me out. Please, god Winston. I can’t stop.” He turned to face Winston again, pleading with them before his body would force him to fight them.

Shoving her way past the people who were trying to stop her from reaching Lydia, Luce made her way towards the woman. She needed to do this, needed to end this. In the time that she’d been gone, the coven, her mother, her sisters, they’d been in danger. And she’d had no way of knowing, because she’d been to fucking cowardly to face the shit that was happening here in White Crest. But, she wasn’t going to run away. Not from this, not from Lydia and the threat she held towards her and everyone else she cared about. Not when the woman had the power to bend anyone she wanted to her will. Luce remembered just what Lydia had done to August, had seen the way she’d forced him to promise away his magic, had watched as he’d broken his own bones. As Lydia ran in the opposite direction of the spear, Luce paused to wrench it free from the newspaper box. But, in that small window of time, she heard Rio swear and then felt the tip of a knife plunge into the back of her leg, just below the edge of her shorts. “Fuck!” She swore, the word coming out in a strangle gasp of pain. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Rio staring at Winston, begging them. She swallowed. Winston… they had to take care of this. Grasping the knife in her leg, Luce let out a hiss of pain before yanking it out. “FUCK!” Blood rolled freely down her skin, covering her tattoos in a slick sheen of red. “Lydia, you bitch!” She snarled, knife held tightly in her grasp as she continued after the woman, forcing herself into a limping jog.

It was becoming increasingly clear that if they all didn’t finish this off soon, Lydia might actually get away with everything. Athena squeezed her eyes shut for another moment, concentrating all of her focus on the task at hand. Her arm hurt like nothing she had ever truly experienced before, and yet she knew that she couldn’t focus on that right now. That was for later, and whatever pain she had to work through would be worth it. Not to mention, her divinely given abilities (no matter what had happened with her parents, she still couldn’t shake those words, shake that belief entirely - and now was certainly not the time to be focusing on that most of all. She was grateful for all that Luce and Winston were doing - and impressed as well, if she let herself pause to process that for any length of time. She’d express her gratitude later, once this was all done. She stood up, finally, legs far more shaky than she wished for them to be, and concentrated on the despicable, terrible, crawling feeling of a fae being nearby. Lydia had taken off, and Athena made her way after her, after Luce - she spotted her brother throw something at Luce and she winced, only for a moment, but Luce kept moving and she just had to hope and trust that Winston could control her brother.

Winston had been holding back a little bit. It was Rio. There wasn’t a single person in their life that meant half as much as he did right now and Winston hadn’t been able to hurt them. But their hesitance had gotten Luce hurt and as they watched the knife sail end over end through the air, Winston swallowed sadly and shook their head. “Okay… Rio ... I’m sorry.” Tears balanced in their eye as they reached into their pocket and fished out the taser they had originally designed to kill mime dopplegangers. A few adjustments had been easy enough and it worked to stun, incapacitate and kill. Flicking the settings around, Winston feinted left before bringing the taser right. They watched the two long pins of a vey heavily modified cattle prod connect with Rio’s side before they sent a long and what would undoubtedly be a painful blast of electricity through Orion. Enough volts to really do something too. They just hoped that it wasn’t too much. Orion’s body crumpled in Winston’s arms and they gently set them down, leaning them against a wall before hurtling after Luce. Sweat glistened on their forehead but there was no choice but to get her. This had to stop. They couldn’t let anyone else get hurt by this monster.

“No, no, no,” Lydia gasped, eyes flicking around the space. None of the fire escapes were lower, walls looming around her like a cage, the stench of rotting food and human waste filling her lungs. This couldn’t be it. There had to be some door that was unlocked, some window she could squeeze through, but she was hardly the first person to look for a way into the ground floor back here. Lydia slammed her shoulder into a door and screamed as it only rattled. If her arm wasn’t broken, if her other wasn’t burned, if her wings- Lydia’s mind kept slipping back to Deirdre, to the buzzing of her phone. It wasn’t about Texas, or Morgan, or the squished hedgehog she’d found on the side of the road. It hadn’t been, for the past two dozen calls. Lydia stepped back, her breathing shallow, eyes flicking from shuttered window to shuttered window. She should have picked up hours ago. There was nowhere she wanted to be more than in Deirdre’s arms right now. The iron spear, the copper wires, Lydia looked down at her bleeding ankle and whimpered. There had to be more than this. If she ran back through the crowd, she could push people into Winston. Twist Luce’s own mind against her with the saliva in her mouth.

There had to be more, but Deirdre had been calling. Perhaps it would have happened in Lydia’s living room, with the fire lit, a bottle of glass in her belly. Maybe she wouldn’t have felt the poison shutting down her brain. Or perhaps Deirdre would have slit her throat, and would have held Lydia in her warm arms as Lydia’s own heat spilled out of her in just a few short seconds. Deirdre had been calling. Because she had promised that Lydia would not die a bad death. Lydia could barely hear what was happening in the street back there, but she had seconds, and nowhere to go.

Lydia didn’t even realise she was reaching for her phone before she’d even decided. She was still looking around as her thumb tapped the screen. Deirdre was on speeddial, but that didn’t mean she would pick up fast. Lydia could hear only her heartbeat faster that the dial tone. Buzz, thumpthumpthum, buzz- “I rel-” but the voice on the other line wasn’t Deirdre’s at all. It took another precious second to place the panicked tones, for Lydia to recognise Morgan’s voice. Lydia almost sobbed at the sudden relief of it, hearing it for the first time since Morgan had told her goodbye on that awful day. Lydia caught words and snippets, barely able to piece the words together. There wasn’t time. “Deirdr- Morgan, DEIRDRE, NOW!” Lydia yelled, stifling a pitiful sound against her lip. She could barely make out what Morgan said as Lydia scrabbled to hide behind an air vent, leaning her head against the cool metal. “I relinquish you,” she breathed, the single most important thing Deirdre needed to know. The red thread that bound them together dropped away and Lydia sobbed for its disappearance. She couldn’t hear anyone nearby, so she hurriedly tripped over her words, trying to whisper what she needed Deirdre (and Morgan, by extension) to hear. “I love you, you’re the best fae in that town, no matter what anyone says, you’re like a sister to-”

Rage mixed with adrenaline and the heady combination urged Luce’s legs forward, even as pain radiated up her leg with every step she took. She trailed after Lydia, the spear heavy in her left hand, the knife bloody in her right. Fire burned within her, the magic begging to be released. But she couldn’t, not now. Not yet. Luce limped towards the alleyway that Lydia had run down, the spear point dragging against the asphalt as she rounded the corner. Looking around, Luce’s gaze fell on the woman screaming into her phone, clutching it like it was a lifeline. Without a word, Luce raised her hand and hurled the knife back at Lydia, sending it flying towards her. It missed, bouncing off the side of the building behind the Fae woman, but that wasn’t the point. She didn’t care if it landed because the second it had left her finger tips, the witch had thrown herself forward, spear raised and ready. Luce lunged forward, using momentum and anger to carry her. The speartip pierced through the flesh of Lydia’s shoulder, but Luce continued onwards, a ragged shout ripping through her throat as she forced the spear through the woman’s shoulder and pinned her to the wall of the alleyway. Staggering backwards, arms shaking from the effort, Luce glared at the woman. She said nothing, because there was nothing left for her to say. She was going to die here, die gasping and bleeding and in so much pain. And with her would die the threat that Lydia posed to Bea, to Nell, to her mother, to all of White Crest.

Athena continued to follow Luce and Lydia closely. She found the two of them turning down an alleyway, and straightened her posture, slipping another one of her knives out from its hiding space and she watched, a smirk crossing her face, as Luce threw her knife at Lydia. Lydia whimpering into the phone. Athena walked up towards where Lydia was, turning her head curiously as she had those many days of dissections during her biology classes in high school. She wouldn’t go that far, now - that would be too much and might make police do more investigative work than would be good for anyone involved, but she wanted Lydia to hurt. “You know, I don’t think calling for help is going to do you much good.” She hummed to herself before she moved a few steps closer and took one first cut against Lydia’s shoulder blade. “That must burn, mustn't it? Though I believe in balance so…” She flipped the knife in her hand, grateful that the satisfaction of hurting someone like Lydia did at least something to lessen the searing pain in her broken arm. “I’ll go for the other one, too. Not the heart yet, though I am curious about if someone who has behaved in the way that you have even has one to speak of.” Athena held her knife close to Lydia’s jawline. “Don’t try to move. I’m quick on my feet, and it seems as though she is too,” she glanced over to Luce. “I’ve got more where this one came from.”

As usual Winston was the last to arrive. It didn’t really matter, they were still pretty concerned for Rio and would’ve much rather been checking on him. However, he was tough, whether or not he admitted it, the poor guy had been through more then many had and still managed to retain his kindness and compassion which was honestly no small feat. Yet despite all of that Winston knew that they had to stop Lydia once and for all. Their life wouldn’t be okay until then. She’d interfered too much. With Todd, with Rio, in their own life, it was all… concerning. Swallowing, Winston rounded the corner to see Lydia pinned painfully in place. She looked… well almost pathetic frankly. Pinned to a wall, helpless, covered in wounds and hurting. Winston couldn’t say anything, there was nothing to say, all they could do was watch with an almost morbid curiosity.

Like everything else, Lydia did not hear Luce approaching in the same way she could not hear what, if anything, Deirdre was saying in reply, the last words she might ever hear, stolen from her because of a scream. She gasped as the knife whipped past her face, stumbling back. The phone slipped out of her hands, the one good thing she could have accomplished done. The spear pierced through her shoulder, sizzling and searing her flesh as it went under her collarbone, and hit against her shoulder blade. Lydia screamed as it caught there, scraping against the bone as Luce drove it even further forward. The bone cracked and wrenched her shoulder down as the spear pushed it out of place, driving through her back and piercing the metal vent behind her. Lydia shrieked as her legs gave out and the burning iron ate at her flesh. Every thrash of her limbs spilled fresh blood down her clothes until she managed to get her legs under her again, supporting just enough weight that the spear wasn’t pressing quite so hard against her clavicle. She tried to grab the spear with her hand, only for blisters to grow and burst, pus leaking out of her hand. Lydia’s glamour fell, skin glowing, damaged wing on show, her ears extended. Her irises looked even more iridescently blue while bloodshot and tearstained. Lydia stared at Athena in confusion.

“No- please-” Lydia whimpered, “I haven’t done anything to you I haven-AAAGH!” Lydia screamed at the simple iron cut on her other side, crushing part of the vent as she jerked from the pain, almost passing out. But that would have been too kind, the sharp agony forcing her awake, sobbing disgustingly as Athena held the knife to her chin, and her flesh began to blister too, the rancid smell of overcooked barbeque cloying her senses. From the corner of her eye, she saw Winston approach too. “I’ll give you Todd back!” She cried, “I’ll relinquish him, you won’t know the difference, but you have to let me go. Please, Winston, I can’t- I’ll let him go!” Whatever brief acceptance of death there had been in the quiet was gone now as Lydia rabidly tried to pull any threads of fae promise to work in her favour. She looked back to the glimmer of satisfaction in Athena’s eyes, and realised how close they were. “Please, just let me go,” she whimpered, filling her mouth with toxic saliva. “Please, please, you don’t have to do this,” Lydia reared her head back slightly then spat in Athena’s face, watching the glob of spit run down Athena’s cheek. Maybe this wasn’t it after all, hope flickering like a candle in a storm. “Help me leave, please!”

Winston swallowed at the mention of Todd. He was their friend. He had been their friend for more time then Winston had known about all of this and although there was literally no proof that knowing Winston had anything to do with Todd becoming involved with Lydia, Winston couldn’t help but feel profoundly responsible for everything that had happened to him. Swallowing, Winston considered everything, but they doubted that either Luce or Athena would let anything happen and Winston was pretty sure that the promise would’ve been broken by her death. “I’m sorry Lydia, but it’s not really my choice, I know you took him and I know you think he’s yours to return, but Todd doesn’t belong to anyone and that sort of thinking, treating humans as if they belong to someone-- as if they’re objects to be traded and bargained with … that’s too dangerous to be…” they couldn’t say it. They might be a killer now. They might be responsible for deaths and they might’ve done wrong but Winston couldn’t admit to it. “It’s out of my hands.” They looked at Athena and Luce, wondering what would happen next.

Luce turned her back on Lydia, limping away from the scene as Winston and Athena closed in. She braced herself against the wall at the edge of the alley while the blood continued to drip down her leg. She was weaponless now and her fire wouldn’t do much to stop anyone who was caught in Lydia’s thrall. But, she had to do something to make sure people couldn’t just stop them. This needed to end. Lydia needed to die. And she’d done her part, she’d helped get Athena where she needed her to be. Luce gritted her teeth as she listened to the screaming, the begging, the pleading. In those moments, she could almost forget what Lydia was capable of. Almost. But, she could never forget what she’d seen that day in the woman’s mansion. With a stubborn determination, Luce knocked over a large stack of empty plastic crates, hoping they’d block the alley from the people who were no doubt clawing at their wire confines. “I don’t know how long we have here.” Luce called over her shoulder as she leaned heavily against the wall, pressing her hand against the wound on her leg in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

She could hear Lydia screaming, and it did little else other than further spark her curiosity. Athena figured that perhaps she ought to have flinched more than she did at the scream, but she’d watched countless operations that her father had performed, and so the screaming of a fae did little to cause a reaction. Instead, it felt good, right, and although she didn’t like to think about what similarities she held to her father (not now, not now - not when she still couldn’t help but hear her parents’ words, sometimes), she did know that she felt this way; that this much was true. Winston had arrived now, without her brother, and she didn’t want to focus on whatever was going on with Ri, right now - because hyperfocus on her brother and whatever he was going through was only going to serve to distract her, and that would increase the likelihood of failing at what she’d set out to do.

If she were someone kinder, gentler (more like her brother, she thought) then Lydia’s pleading might have done more to work its way into her heart. Athena had long ago shut herself off from feeling anything when she hunted. It didn’t do her any good, and it was part of why she was so often very successful. Shutting out everything else permitted her to be single minded, and all of a sudden she felt something wet against her cheek and her hand flew up to touch it, fingers brushing along her cheek. Well, Lydia may have been cunning in many other ways, but still had yet to figure out that Athena was a warden. “That kind of thing doesn’t work on me.” She giggled, and the sound was off, she knew that much, but everything was all happening so fast and she heard - noted - Luce’s words - they were in public and though Lydia now very much looked as inhuman as she was, it didn’t mean that people wouldn’t come running and wouldn’t come wondering about all the screaming. She shook her head. “No, you made a terrible, horrible, very bad mistake.” She ran her knife along Lydia’s jaw then. She wanted her to suffer - for what she was but now, moreover, for all the harm that she’d caused. For what she’d made Ri do, for what she’d made Ariana do, for the fact that she surpassed the normal vileness of Leanan-Sidhe and kept humans in her basement.

Her arm still hurt - she did her best to not focus on that either, even though it meant that she couldn’t quite do her normal handiwork. So one-handed it would have to be. Athena took her knife again, though its color was stained darker from her handiwork thus far. She hated how public their location was, despite being off to the side in an alleyway. It meant that she probably couldn’t let Lydia suffer as painful of a death as she would have wished for her to. “Are you afraid?” Her lips fell into a small smile, eyes staring straight at Lydia. She was severely injured - had been, to a point it seemed before everyone present had gotten ahold of her. Her knife sliced through Lydia’s clothing, cutting into her skin just below her heart. Not straight to the heart, that would have been too much of a mercy. Athena had memorized the most effective ways to kill, and though she’d granted her parents that to a degree, she couldn’t bring herself to, now. “She’s almost gone.” She murmured, her voice halfway vacant, not fully present. She’d checked out towards the end sometimes during her father’s surgeries in their home. “It won’t be long now, I don’t think.” Voice monotone, she turned to look at Winston. “I did what I had to do.”

What Winston saw in that moment would stain their memory forever. Like a black spot in their mind it would continue to haunt their dreams. The way that Athena worked, the efficiency of the knife and the way that it cut through Lydia was the stuff of nightmares. But what would really bother them was how they hadn’t intervened. After all, she’d deserved it. She’d hurt so many people, she deserved this pain. She deserved to feel some of the torment that she had made so many other people feel. Though in their heart of hearts Winston was sure that wasn’t true; they knew better then to allow someone else to suffer and they would regret this for the rest of their life. Once it was all over, and Lydia lay their suffering, Winston … swallowed. Shaking themselves out of their daze, Winston scooped up the abandoned spear that Luce had left behind and tentatively held it for a moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner…” was all they could manage to say. Their voice was barely a whisper. Their fingers tensed around the shaft of the spear before they drove it through Lydia’s heart. Blood sprayed out of the wound covering Winston’s hands, but they didn’t care. They might not have done the right thing earlier but it wasn’t too late to try and make things better. “It’s time to go.” They couldn’t make eye contact with Athena, they couldn’t look at Luce, they just had to get out of here and find Todd and make sure Rio was okay.

Lydia had heard the dying thoughts and fears of nearly fifty humans, she had thought she knew what it was to fear death. She had felt with startling clarity what it was to have the last tendrils of your life gently coaxed out of you after years of suffering. Nothing that prepared her for this, as Athena dragged the burning hot blade along her jaw, cutting through the burns to make fresh ones. With every cut, Athena tore apart every thread of Lydia’s sense of self, her voice hoarse as she wailed and wept. Eventually, even her begging was reduced to unintelligible gibberish, but for Athena, even that wasn’t enough. Perhaps the only mercy Regan had left her was that Lydia could not completely make out Athena’s last taunts over the pounding of her heart as Athena scraped her blade against the ridges of Lydia’s sternum, burning flesh and bone alike.

Every scream should have been wrung out of her, but Athena managed to tear one more out of her wretched lungs as Athena drove her knife between Lydia’s ribs. Her diaphragm and lungs bubbled and blistered under the harsh heat of the cold iron. Her vision still did not blacken, the very pain of dying keeping her awake. Like a tease, Death did not offer any reprieve quite yet as Lydia began to slowly choke on the trickle of blood that seeped into her lungs. She sobbed and tried to call Athena back to end it, not to leave her here like a bug pinned in a museum, but Athena did not turn back. Lydia saw Winston approach, but did not really see them at all, not even as they pulled the spear out of her shoulder. She did not hear their whispered apology, nor could she understand their expression, but she barely made a sound as they shattered her sternum. Her heart convulsed around the spear once, twice, and came to a final, shuddering halt.

There was a scream and then there was silence. Luce looked back down the alley, eyes going first to Athena, who had a ghost of a smile on her face, then to Winston, their hands covered in blood. And then to Lydia. Or rather, the body that had once been her. Remorse wasn’t a thing that she felt, not for the Fae woman. But, this was dirty work, hard work. And Winston had been the one to finish it. They shouldn’t have had to do that. Forcing herself into motion, Luce braced herself against the side of the wall as she made her way back to where Lydia’s body lay. “Hey,” She said quietly as she rested her clean hand on Winston’s shoulder, “We did what we had to do. For all the people she’s hurt, and for the lives she would have taken. We did what we had to.” Whatever it takes. The mantra returned to her mind and Luce sighed. But when would that end?

“You guys should go ahead. Get Rio, get him out of here. I’ll… clean this up.” Luce said with a nod, gesturing to the crumpled heap of Lydia’s body. Grasping the spear, she pulled it free from the corpse. It slid free with a sticking, wet noise and the body slumped over on the alley way. With an impassive gaze, Luce stared down at the body before her. She’d done what was right. She’d done what she had to. She did what she needed to make sure that the people she cared for were safe. Lydia would never hurt anyone again, she’d never bend them to her will. This was the right thing.

A circle of blue flame sprang to life around the body. Luce watched the tongues dance as she urged them higher, to burn hotter, to close in. The flames obeyed and she watched as flesh and blood, cloth and wing, give way to the fire. A thick acrid scent filled the air and Luce stepped back, her eyes watering from the intensity. It was the easiest way, the simplest solution. But, it was messy. She didn’t want Athena or Winston to see this, didn’t want them to see the way the flesh melted from the bone as the fire consumed it all. Didn’t want to have them watch the way the woman’s wings began to slowly crumble under the heat. Gritting her teeth, Luce fed more magic to the flames and watched Lydia burn.

Winston swallowed dryly at Luce’s words as they made their way out of the alley, they knew that they had done what they had to do, but in the last year it had simply felt like they had been doing what they had had to do. They had lost so much doing what they had had to do. They had seen friends die. They had seen friends hurt. They had been hurt and they had killed. Was it two times? Three times? How had they lost count? Lydia, August, cultists, vampires. What counted as killing and what didn’t? Where was the line? Where could Winston truly say that they were able to accept what they had done. When were they going to be honest and say that they’d let this go too far. Having power … as cliche as it was meant there was responsibility … they should be better than this. The lump in their throat wouldn’t go and the blood on their hands wouldn’t stop glistening. Winston knew that Luce was right. They needed to go. “At what point do we start taking responsibility for the things we’ve done, irrespective of why we’ve done it?” Winston didn’t need an answer, after all there probably wasn’t one. Heading away from the alley, they moved back to Rio and wrapped an arm tightly under his armpit, struggling to haul him to his feet they began to head away from this, away from the now charred corpse of Lydia, away from the acrid smell of burning flesh that hung in the air.

Orion wasn’t sure how long they had been out, only that he finally began to stir back to consciousness by being pulled onto his feet. It took a moment for Rio to adjust to the shifting before he finally jolted, stumbling forward and almost falling out of Winston’s grasp entirely. They caught him, but the sudden movement stirred a sinking migraine that had already been looming. “Wha-” He couldn’t exactly form coherent words or sentences at first. The first thing Rio was truly able to focus on was the burning pain in his side. He grabbed at it, more pain prickling up his skin as he let the memories slowly come back to him. As he began to remember what had led to him waking up here, he realized that he didn’t have the words to say, even if he could manage to speak them. How could he have been so stupid? How many people had he hurt, either directly or indirectly, by helping that woman? He wanted to cry. To scream and curse and punch the ground. But all of those actions were pointless. He couldn’t take back what he had done. He certainly couldn’t punch the pain away. “I’m going to be sick” was the first sentence he managed, breaking away from Winston’s grasp and falling against the grass. Catching himself on his palms and knees, Rio lost the little food and water he had in him. Was this caused by his guilt? The increasingly strong smell that he couldn’t ignore anymore? Maybe it was punishment for failing to complete his promise. Was trying enough? Or was he stuck with whatever consequences came from breaking a fae promise? If it was, Rio deserved whatever it had in store for him. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I don’t- I can’t believe-” At a loss for words again, Rio stopped trying. He just wanted to go home.

Winston had finished off the job, and Athena’s lips twisted around for a moment, unsure of what to make of that. It was a final mercy, and Lydia didn’t deserve that, but it was final, which meant there was no chance of her coming back. Rio. Luce’s words cut through to her and she nodded, she had to find her brother. She grabbed a handkerchief out of her pocket, running it along the blade, moving as she’d been taught, not thinking about it - and she followed Winston out of the alleyway as the smell of burning flesh cut through the air. It was no use to focus on that right now - it was better to think of it as nothing more than when one of the kids on the soccer team had found a dead squirrel in the summer heat. That was all this was, and any other thought wouldn’t do anybody any good. In fact, recalling that particular memory was too kind for what Lydia had done.

She spotted her brother, but before she could reach out to him, Winston had grabbed ahold of him - which was probably better, because now that she didn’t have Lydia’s body, Lydia’s death, the feeling of the knife cutting into flesh to focus on, she could feel the pain shoot up her arm, bruising where Rio had grabbed it and snapped it. Athena shook her head. She’d get to the hospital whenever they got back to White Crest. “You don’t need to say sorry.” She said, walking over to where her brother and Winston were. “That wasn’t you, back there.” Athena wasn’t quite sure how much of whatever she was saying was getting through to her brother; she only knew that she hated seeing him like this. It was only more proof that what she’d done to Lydia was all worth it. “You’re fine. You’re safe. She’s not going to hurt you or anyone else ever again.” She tucked away the knife, a small giggle threatening to escape from her lips - perhaps from some combination of relief and desperate, still-present worry for her brother, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t make it, and instead Athena knelt next to her brother for a moment, brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead, as gently as she could. “Everything’s alright now. I -” she looked up at Winston, looked over toward the alleyway, “we all dealt with it. Everything’s okay. I won’t let anyone try to hurt you ever again.” Another pause. “We won’t. You are stronger than you think. I’ve got proof of that. Now, I think we should get out of here, yeah?”

#para #chatzy #rio #luce #athena #winston #drug manipulation tw #vomit tw #spoilers in dash reacts pls <3 #abuse tw mentions

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kayteewritessteve · 4 years

Text

Beautifully Unfinished - 7/8

Description: One foolish outburst, one moment of weakness at the worst possible time, and everything goes up in smoke. Who knew finally voicing your true, deep-rooted feelings, would lead to the complete destruction of your most cherished friendship?

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 3,130 ish.

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Curse words. Lots of angst. But if you’ve read my stories before, then you know how this will end.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

The Beginning of The End.

You pace the length of your living room, hands clenched in your hair. Your best friend—the love of your life—gets married in 7 days. 7 fucking days. And you are absolutely beside yourself right now. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, fuck, you can barely even think. Everything in you is begging you to do something. Anything.

But you can’t. You can’t allow your foolish heart to say a damn thing. Who are you to dump all of this shit on an unsuspecting person? Who are you, that you can put your own feelings before others. Before your very best friend.

He’s in love. He’s getting fucking married, and next Sunday at that.

If you truly loved him, you’d stay the hell out of it. You’d stay the hell away from him till D day. Till the day there is no going back, and no chance for you to selfishly ruin everything.

So that’s what you’re currently doing, you’re avoiding him at all costs. You haven’t spoken to him in 2 weeks, much to your chagrin. And not without his effort.

He’s tried to contact you. He’s tried to call, to text. He even hounded Bucky about it, but you only know that because Bucky sent you a long text telling you to pull your head out of your ass, and stop ignoring him and Steve. He also reminded you that you are a GroomsWoman and you have duties to attend to. He may have also threatened to show up at your place, if you didn’t text him back within the hour.

So you caved. You texted him back, giving him a bullshit story about how busy you were with work right now. He clearly knew you were full of shit, but he left it alone. You’ve always assumed, and gotten the impression, that Bucky knew of your true feelings for Steve. Or he at least figured out there were more feelings there for you than just friendship. So you’d guess that he knew you were having a very hard time with this all.

You were struggling to come to terms with Steve’s impending union. Fuck, was that ever an understatement.

And in classic Bucky form, he seemed to understand without saying a thing, and then he offered to forward your message on to Steve. He promised to get him off your back for ‘work related’ reasons. And yes, he actually put it in quotes like that in his text.

So yeah, he totally knew. He probably always had, he was smart like that. He could read people better than anyone you knew. It was a little creepy actually, he was like some weird european spy, or something, you swear.

Yeah, you felt pretty guilty for not only skipping out on your GroomsWoman duties, but also for last minute cancelling on Steve’s Bachelor party. Because fuck that. That would not have ended well. Your intense heartache and feelings, mixed with alcohol and then stuck in a room with the object of your desires. Yeah, no, that had a ‘fucking mess’ written all over it. Entirely.

So you’d chickened out and texted Bucky, once again with a shit ass excuse about not feeling well. And again, you knew he saw right through it. But he covered for your ass like he always did.

You yank on your hair before dropping your arms, only to then not know what to do with them—or yourself, but one thing at a time here—so you awkwardly crossed them and halted your steps in front of your living room window. Staring out at the summer rain pelting down on everything outside; cars, people, the sidewalk.

What are you doing? Why are you like this? Why can’t you just get over these ridiculous feelings already? This is insanity, it’s the very definition of the damn word.

You take a deep breath, hoping it will help quiet the screams of your heart. With every passing day that’s brought you closer to his wedding day, your heart has gotten louder and louder. And your head? Well it’s not much better, it’s been trying to rationalize the pros of just telling him. Of just letting it all out finally. It’s been trying to tell you it would be worth it, it’s been attempting to give you this false hope that he would feel the same way. That if you just told him, he’d realize he feels the same and end this engagement to be with you.

But you aren’t a dumbass—at least not always—you know the likelihood of him feeling the same is a million to one. So basically so slim that there is no chance at all.

...But there is still that one shot! There is still that teeny tiny little chance!

Ugh! See! This is what it’s been like for weeks! This is the constant battle that has been raging inside you for months. Who are we kidding, it’s been like this for years. But it’s been made worse by the realization that you are running out of time. By the fact that the window of opportunity is slowly diminishing and will soon enough be shut forever.

Or at least until they get divorced! NO! You can’t think like that. They aren’t even fucking married yet, and already you are hoping for the end of their union. How sick are you? How fucking selfish? He’s your best friend. Be happy for him. Be thankful that he found his person.

Even if that person isn’t you.

Ugh! And now your hands are clenching the roots of your hair once again. This is agony. Maybe you can goto the hospital and ask them to put you under. Beg them to induce a coma, so you can finally just breathe and your head can shut off for a few days—

The slam of a door causes you to jump and whip around at the noise, only to feel all your blood attempt to leave your body at the cause of the sound. The very thing you are stressing out about right now.

Steve. He is standing not even 15 feet away from you currently, and he looks pissed as hell. Fuck fuck fuck. You are avoiding him for a reason! You can’t be around him right now, you are too weak, you will say something dumb. Or God forbid you will just word vomit all over him, you will just dump everything you’ve held in for years in one fell swoop.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Here, overthinking everything and having a mental breakdown. But you don’t say that, obviously, and instead go with, “What are you doing here, Steve?”

“Making sure you’re still fucking alive,” he glares at you. And ooh fuck, yup, yeah, he’s pissed alright. You’re fucking in for it now. “Since you can’t seem to reply to any of my messages, or answer your damn phone.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and then his eyes leave yours as he glances down at it’s screen, tapping away at it. A few seconds later, you hear the familiar chirp of your text notification tone and your eyes widen at the realization. You quickly go to grab your phone, hoping you can just avoid this whole thing. Hoping that by hiding it, it will defuse the ticking bomb that is currently your best friend.

He glances up and around for a second, his eyes then land on the traitorous electronic just as you pick it up and go to cram it in your pocket, but at the last second you flick the switch to put it in silent mode, then chuck it at the couch. His eyes follow the motion then snap back to yours, and you can’t miss just how heated they are now. Even more than they were before. “Steve, just let me—“

“I’m glad to see it still works perfectly fine,” he seethes, cutting you off and taking a few slow steps to fully enter the living room. Which causes your heart rate to pick up, tenfold. But not because your scared of him, fuck no, you’d never be scared of Steve. He gets mad sometimes, but never aggressive. The worst he gets is like a pissed off parent. So no, your heart wasn’t racing because of that, it was racing because he is so damn close now. Closer than he’s been in weeks, and he’s still like 10 feet from you. Gosh, you missed him so much—God, you are so damn pathetic!

“And that it’s on fucking loud,” he adds, halting his steps and narrowing his eyes at you. “So you have been ignoring me, huh?”

“It’s not like that—“

“Oh don’t give me that bullshit excuse, Y/N,” he cuts you off once again. And for a guy that wants answers, he sure as hell isn’t giving you the chance to actually give him any. “It’s me,” he gestures to himself, “Steve. Ya know, your best friend? The person who knows you better than anyone else. So tell me the damn truth, Y/N, why have you been ignoring me?”

I CAN’T! Don’t you fucking get that!? Instead of screaming that, you take a deep breath, and try to think of more rational words. “I haven’t been ignoring you, Steve,” you pause and scrunch up your nose. “At least not really. Not because of anything you’ve done. I’ve just been so busy lately, didn’t Bucky fill you in on this?”

“Really?” He says dryly, “you’re just going to stick with that horrendously fake excuse?”

“It’s not a damn excuse! I just needed some fucking space!” You snap, then quickly clench your mouth shut and drop your eyes to the floor, before exhaling deeply. The realization that he is clearly trying to get a rise out of you, hitting you instantly. He knows that if you’re pissed off, you’ll most likely slip up and tell him the truth. The fucker. He knows you too well.

“Some space?” He asks quietly, and you hear him take a few hesitant steps forward. “From who?”

You keep your mouth shut, and clench your eyes closed as well. If you open your mouth now, you’ll say something you’ll regret.

His breath hitches, “Fr-from me?”

The sheer pain and confusion in his voice makes your eyes start to sting, so you unclench them and blink rapidly a few times, in the hopes to stop the tears before they start. “From everyone,” you choke out.

“That’s not true though, is it? You’ve been replying to Bucky’s messages, so it is just space from me,” he takes a deep breath, “why? Why do you need space from me?”

“It’s not important,” you shake your head, tucking a few wayward strands behind your ear, “It’s stupid, and it won’t matter soon enough.”

“Of course it’s fucking important, Y/N. My best friend is upset at me for something, and that matters a hell of a lot to me,” he says adamantly. “So just tell me what’s wrong, Doll. Please?”

“I can’t, Steve. I really can’t, please just trust me here,” you sigh rubbing a hand on your forehead, while continuing to keep your eyes locked on the floor in front of you.

“And why can’t you?”

You keep your mouth shut, having no idea what to even say. But then you hear his light steps, just before his shoes come into your view.

“Doll, please look at me,” he pleads. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix this. I can’t deal with you mad at me, especially when I have no idea why.”

“There is nothing to fix, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on me, I’ll work myself through it and everything will go back to normal. I promise.”

“Damnit, Y/N! Would you just look at me already!”

You snap your eyes up to meet his, “there! Happy now?”

“No, as a matter of fact I’m fucking not!” He glares at you again. “Why are you being like this? What the hell happened? Just fucking tell me already!”

“You! You fucking happened, Steven!” You snap, glaring right back at him. The wall has finally crumbled, you can’t hold it in anymore, it’s all going to come out whether you like it or not. “You and your stupid perfection! And your dumb face! And—and this ridiculous fucking torch I’ve been carrying for you since grade fucking 7! I’m in love with you Steve, I always have been and the fact that you are marrying someone else is fucking killing me! I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can barely fucking breathe! My heart feels like it’s being crushed and—ARGH!” You yell the last part as your hands move to your head again, grabbing ahold of your roots and giving a few tugs as you spin around. You can’t face him right now. “So there it is, Steve! The whole fucking truth about why I’ve been avoiding you lately. That’s what you wanted to know so damn badly, isn’t it? How does knowing the real reason make you feel? Did my honesty ease your mind? Did it fucking fix things?”

“Y/N,” he says quietly, breathlessly, and you can here the shock in his voice. “I—I don’t,” he trails off.

Which causes you to groan loudly, shaking your head, “just forget it, Steve. Can you please just leave? I want to be alone. I need to be al—“

Your cut off by the motion of your body being spun around forcefully, yet gently. You spin so fast that you almost topple over, but two hands on either side of your face keep you upright. And then, out of fucking nowhere, Steve’s lips crash into yours.

To say that caught you off guard, would be an understatement. You must be fucking dead! Yup, you’ve died, clearly. Because there is no way in hell that Steve is kissing you right now! There just isn’t!

But yet, his lips feel so real. Too real. And just like that, you lose all train of thought, and you kiss him back with everything you have. Your arms slip around his waist, and one of his hands leaves your check to travel down and wrap around you. He pulls you closer and you comply, melting into him and deepening the kiss. His fingers dig into your hip, his forearm warming your lower back, and causing tingles to run up your spin.

But just as abruptly as it started, it stops. And not just that, Steve damn near jumps away from you as if you’re on fire. He takes a few large steps back, creating a vast space between you both.

“Shit,” he whispers under his breath, as he looks away from you. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He shakes his head and then his eyes widen, “Holy fuck, I’m getting married in a week. Literally getting married to Hailey in a fucking week.”

His eyes snap to yours, and the emotions in them make your heart clench even more. What have you done? “Look, Steve, let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? Let’s just act like this whole fucking night never fucking happened—“

“How can you expect me to just pretend like this never happened, Y/N? You just told me you’re in love with me! And we just fucking kissed, God d-damnit!” He stammers and starts to pace the width of your living room. He takes a deep breath, “Like what the hell, Y/N? You’ve had years to say all of this, and you pick right fucking now? A week before my damn wedding, to finally voice your feelings for me? Are you kidding me right now?”

Your nose flares at what he’s saying, because the fucking nerve on this asshole! “Are you kidding me right now?! Don’t pin this shit on me, Steven, I told you I couldn’t tell you! And you just kept fucking pushing! I tried to avoid you so that I wouldn’t say any of this to you, and what did you do? You showed up at my damn door demanding answers! I fucking tried so damn hard to keep it to myself. I did everything I could, to not ruin this friendship, or your big day with my stupid fucking feelings. You think I want to be in love with my best friend, who is getting married to someone else in a week?!” You scoff, crossing your arms, “Of course I fucking don’t. Give your damn head a shake.”

“I didn’t,” he snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head, before mumbling, “I can’t do this right now, Y/N, not yet, not like this. I ah, I’m sorry, I have to go.”

You want more than anything to stop him, to beg him to stay and to pick you, but what little dignity you have left won’t let you. You refuse to put yourself out there anymore. He wants to leave, than good fucking riddance! Don’t let the door hit you on the fucking way out!

“Yeah, I think that’s best,” you agree bitterly, seeing him purse his lips before nodding once then turning on his heel. A moment later you hear your door slam shut and at that very moment you collapse to the floor.

Everything you’ve felt over the last few weeks, months, years, all ripping out of you at once. And then on top of that, everything that happened tonight only adds more emotions to the mix. You’ve never cried this hard in your life, you can’t even bring yourself to stand up and go to your bed.

Shit, you can’t even manage the strength to get up onto your couch, which is only 3 feet away. So instead you curl up into a ball on your living room floor, and proceed to cry every last tear you have left.

You stay in this spot for a couple hours before you finally pick yourself up and drag yourself over to the window. Hoping and praying that the pain will go away soon, or will at least numb out enough to allow you to breathe normally.

But you know that won’t happen for a long time. This pain will stick with you for a while, and nothing you do or say will make it disappear. Nothing will make it go away, it’s taken root deep within you and you’ll carry it through life, along with you. Because Steve isn’t just some random guy, this isn’t just some silly crush. He’s your best friend, he’s the love of your life, and you hate him for it, but yet, you don’t.

Because I hate you, but I love you, and I wish you'd go away.

But I hate you, and I love you, and I wish that you would stay.

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

@caps-lockdown @boxofteenageideas @giggleberts @strawberry-gothchild @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @viarogers @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @cjhorseback @jessiedaeum @capricornprince118 @pinkleopardss @drayshadow @wiserebelpartypie @dark-night-sky-99 @patzammit @cs-please @troublermalik @anika-ann @wxstedhexrt @rynabarnesrogers

#au fanfiction #fanfiction #long post #long read #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #modern!steve rogers x reader #modern!steve rogers #modern!steve #modern au #Beautifully Unfinished #Part 7 #steve rogers au

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ofgoodmenarchive · 3 years

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The third in a series of drabbles exploring my Blood Mage!Dorian.

Seasonal/Festive edition with gift-giving and psuedo-ice-skating.

Deathly Courtship

Another restless night spent in a grimy hovel- an especially restless one this time. Dorian was at least thankful his cave was uncharacteristically dry for Ferelden. It would have made the hours of tossing around in his bedding even more insufferable.

He couldn't sleep- painfully alert. Every subtle sound from the wilderness scratched at his insides and the darkness felt not dark enough- agitated by the mildest light.

Whenever he did lose consciousness- or something close- he caught glimpses of the Inquisition camp, as if projected upon his eyelids. He surveyed from above but also lurked its fringes- much closer than he'd dare approach.

The culprit was obvious.

Daylight slivered into his den and Dorian strode outside, unsurprised by what he witnessed.

His shadow was slumped along a rock, boneless-seeming, staring at the Inquisition camp.

“You've been here all night.” Dorian admonished, flopping to tend the fire. “It kept me awake, you know! And what are you doing lurking around camp? He has his own Spirit, remember?! It might see you!”

It grunted passively, not looking at him.

He rolled his eyes, sparked kindling.

“You need to learn some patience, is what you need to do.” Leaning back from the flames, Dorian rooted around in his bag. He didn't have anything to really appease his demon but there was salted meat. Not a fantastic breakfast- he was probably still better fed than the refugees.

This time his shadow didn't offer so much as a grunt, intent on watching

Dorian sighed and craned his neck around- below, Lavellan also prepared for the day.

“There's a way we have to do this, you realise that?” He lectured, cutting meat into chunks. “That's the Southern Chantry down there, or have you forgotten?”

Huffing, Dorian chewed raw flesh and inspected his companion- never moving from it's spot.

“...If it was up to you,” He considered, shaking his head. “We'd just skulk into his camp one night, sneak into his tent and...”

Trailing off, he furrowed his brow at the creature.

“Stop that. Stop putting thoughts in my head. We're not doing that.”

His shadow seethed as if in agony, somehow becoming more limp.

“You're so stupid.” He grumbled, standing. “You saw how he reacted to us. He'll say yes in the moment then be terrified later- as they all are! Because you, my friend...”

He leaned sideways upon the same rock as his demon, frowning at Lavellan and gnashing bloody meat.

“...come on far too strong.”

It exhaled in dramatic anguish, one with it's perch.

Dorian rolled his eyes again.

"If I didn't know any better...I'd almost say you're lovesick."

The demon had no comment but it's offense was palpable through their bond. Dorian snickered, continuing to mull over;

“What we need...is to provide something- a gift, something useful! That's how everyone else slinks into his good graces, no?”

It harrumphed, unconvinced. Dorian ignored this, retrieving his staff.

“Well we're not doing things your way! You forget we're also betraying the Venatori. They're not going to be happy about that, are they? We're going to need a place in the Inquisition to survive- which we won't get if you can't pace yourself!”

Muttering to himself, Dorian sauntered down the slope, knowing his demon would have no choice but to follow.

“You're going to have to get used to looking in my mind, too. I can't be talking to myself so bloody much! The Venatori don't care, they just think I'm mad. The Inquisition however, might have something to say about-”

Interrupted by an abrupt crash of bristling fur- a wild wolf. Dorian was tackled and with a snarl, kicked the beast over his head. Positively annoyed, he spun around and crushed its skull with the one upon his staff, spitting-

“Wolves! Bloody wolves everywhere- I can't even finish a blasted sentence!” He licked red from his weapon without thought. “...Don't the Dalish have some superstitions about wolves? Sort of a whole...guardians of the Beyond, sentinels of death- that sort of thing?”

He blinked towards his shadow- observing neutrally. It shrugged.

“You know- the Dread Wolf and all that! Fenharel, or whatever!”

It's head tilted, clueless.

“This is why I make the decisions around here, you know...” Dorian scoffed, peering down at the fallen creature. “In fact...I think I have an idea.”

Crisp, morning air welcomed Evallan when he opened his eyes. His room in Haven was warm- intolerably so, for someone acclimatised to sleeping in the cold outdoors. Therefore a window near his bed was always ajar, mountain chill guiding him awake before anyone else.

They'd returned to restock supplies, rest and exchange personnel. Already he craved wilderness- while they traipsed over hills and through caves, it was easy to distract himself.

Suffocating in luxurious sheets, Evallan was acutely aware of how far from home he lay.

He wondered if his brothers were rising for the day- or if they'd become slothful without him to direct. After all, he was the 'Eldest' Lavellan- a title that meant nothing here but that appointed him some vague authority among his people.

Perhaps Villyen- being younger and less focused- would whine to Amrallan for them to sleep in. They might finally climb from their aravel bunks for lunch, then perhaps Amrallan would suggest they adventure somewhere, rather than attend chores...

By this description it was easy to forget Amrallan was actually older than him- Evallan had always been more responsible. He thought of how his brother might handle this 'Herald' predicament, laughing at the idea.

I will write them again- soon.

For now, he needed to stave off homesickness.

It was too early for serving hands- breakfast wouldn't be prepared yet. That was fine by Evallan- he could only be himself in solitude, and food would do nothing to satiate his cravings.

He craved the freedom of home. Of travelling with his clan, camping in lands too untamed for the shem. Answering to the Creators, and to the wilderness, and nothing else.

This need brought him to the frozen lake, staring wistfully from its edge.

An uncanny sense bothered him- of being observed. This wasn't an unfamiliar feeling- it occurred erratically throughout their time in the Hinterlands. Easily attributed to the Maleficar they'd encountered, he'd become accustomed to dismissing it.

Though he saw no sign of him now- and they were quite a ways from the Hinterlands. Evallan couldn't imagine a purpose in stalking him so far.

A trick of the mind this time, I think...

He had to confess, a part of him wished otherwise. Evallan found little point of relation between himself and the humans. Therefore, couldn't help but admire a shem mage who lived so wilfully as an outcast. Perhaps he would find common ground with such a man?

On the other hand, Evallan had no guess as to his thoughts. He should be more suspicious. Yet it was difficult not to be sympathetic towards someone who constantly skirted shadows, clearly not wishing to be seen.

Additionally, he tended to discern threats through his Spirit-bond. Lightbringer had voiced no concerns towards the shem's intent, so it was likely not malicious. Evallan trusted her to caution him if that happened to change.

I see no real sign of him now, in any case...

Indeed the grounds were entirely unpopulated, sky still more dark than light. Glancing around himself to make certain, he then gazed over the ice and considered...

Before hopping from the brittle harbour, skidding upon a smooth surface. He'd been provided heavy, polished boots suitable for a Herald- definitely not meant for this. Evallan wondered if someone would scold him, then reflected how ludicrous it would be if he arrived for breakfast half-drowned.

Deciding to risk these consequences, he slid, kicking feet to gain momentum then straightening, propelled onwards with a giddy laugh. Cool winds lashed at him and he grinned at the wintery invitation, remembering such escapades with his brothers.

Spinning around, he repeated the motion, running until he could simply careen forwards. This time he intended to leap and catch himself- but it had been some time since he'd partaken in something so juvenile. Instead of landing on his feet he met frost on elbows and knees, snorting at his own foolishness. He was lucky the ice held- merely creaking.

Evallan stood and dusted himself off, preparing for another attempt...

Hasty scratches echoed along the ice, gaining his attention. Half-turning, he was assaulted by a pair of large paws and what looked like- veilfire?

His instinct would have been to attack- except the creature wasn't really attacking him. It bounced off and ran a mad circle, panting.

Or at least- it made a sound akin to panting.

Closer examination told him this thing- a wolf- was headless, its neck stitched shut. In place of a skull was a puff of veilfire and it was this that 'panted', billowing with the same cadence as an excited dogs breath.

From what he knew of canine behaviour- which was quite a bit, he was Ferelden- it displayed no aggression. If anything, it was pleased to see him.

“...Hello, strange friend.” He greeted respectfully, bending to its level. “And where is your master? I do not suppose something as elaborate as you are, comes to be through happy accident.”

The minions 'head' formed a comically large tongue, lolling stupidly.

Evallan rang with mirth.

“Yes, you are very charming.” He flattered, petting its shoulders. “But that is not what I asked.”

“Oh, good- he found you!”

A somewhat familiar voice- mostly by the accent. There were not exactly a wealth of Tevinter men among the Inquisition.

Turning, he spied the Maleficar- Dorian Pavus- stood where snow met ice, beaming unreservedly.

Evallan hesitated, voice lost.

Perusing the frozen lake, Dorian inched forward, testing each step. Once confident enough he pushed towards Evallan, in such a way to suggest he'd observed some of the elf's frolicking. There was no time to be embarrassed- the man lost his balance and Evallan instinctively reached out, offering support.

The shem slumped into him with an 'oof', slinging an arm around. Evallan stiffened but allowed it- Dorian was warm, and had a scent like earth and blood. Neither of which he found displeasing.

He grinned upwards, exposing several pairs of sharp teeth;

“My dear Herald,” Said with exaggerated familiarity. “You left the Hinterlands without saying goodbye- I was absolutely beside myself.”

Evallan blinked at this, not comprehending, awkwardly blushing. He had observed humans to have an odd sense of humour, so attempted to respond in kind.

“I was...to leave a note on a tree?” He chuckled, tense. “You do not exactly make yourself known.”

“I do apologise,” Dorian sighed, balancing enough to cling less. “It's not because of you, my Herald- just the company you keep.”

“They would be suspicious of you, that is true.” He tentatively released the man, seeing him secure on his feet. “But as long as you mean no harm, I would allow none on you.”

The Maleficar roared with laughter, leaving Evallan confused.

“How awfully noble of you, Herald!”

Slumping to meet his gaze, Evallan still couldn't understand what had amused him.

“I would assume this is your minion?” He inquired, looking towards the undead wolf- it had been watching in dutiful silence but was quick to roll onto its back, panting again. Chuckling, Evallan crouched to deliver belly-rubs.

“Do you like it?” Dorian asked, something hopeful in his tone.

Glancing his way, Evallan flashed a smile.

“Some of the humans would call it unseemly,” He shrugged, continued patting. “But I can tell he is a sweet creature.”

“He's yours- if you want him.”

Evallan perked a brow, curious.

“Another method of tracking me, I assume?”

Surprising him- Dorian grinned shamelessly, answering the same way-

“But of course, my darling Herald, whatever else for?” A laugh rumbled in his chest- it was a pleasing sound. “And to protect you, of course! A loyal companion, who will follow only your order, and be compelled to protect you against any threat.”

Evallan smirked mostly to himself, unfurling but not to his full height- stooping around Dorian's. The creature sat by his heels, leaning into him.

“Does he have a name?”

“Fenharel.”

Compelled to splutter in laughter- unable to restrain it- Evallan shook his head.

“Maker, no! I will not curse the poor beast in such a way.”

Dorian paused, smiling in slow disbelief.

“So you're going to take him? Did you entirely understand what I just said?”

“I understood.” He shuffled, somewhat defensive. “But you have saved my people and myself at least once. Therefore, I seem to benefit.”

“How...pragmatic.” Dorian bore his teeth in another sly grin and Evallan felt incredibly awkward.

Appearing to sense this, the Blood Mage redirected their conversation;

“So what will you call him, if not Fenharel?”

Evallan regarded the beast for a moment, lowered to stroke its back.

“Lunis, I think.”

“Lunis...” Dorian stroked his beard thoughtfully. “That's some...minor Elven god? Something to do with the moon?”

“Mhm.”

“Huh...” He tilted his head, feigned a scoff. “Hardly more imposing than 'Fenharel', is it?”

“If I call him Fenharel-” Evallan choked through mirth. “Any Dalish we encounter will shoot the poor thing on sight!”

“Well, maybe- but they'll regret it!” Dorian quipped, earning more laughter.

“Other than to track me...” He questioned- once restraining himself. “Is there a reason you are offering such a generous gift?”

“Why not?” Dorian shrugged. “From where I'm standing, the Inquisition is the winning horse. I'm just trying to ensure I'm not trampled in the race.”

“Pragmatic.” He echoed the previous sentiment- then faltered on what to say.

Again catching to his social ineptitude, Dorian bantered;

“I can't help but notice that sliding around a frozen lake isn't very Herald-like.”

Perhaps he hadn't expected this to fluster him so intensely. Colour burnt his cheeks and a nervous cough erupted from him. Dorian simply observed, smiling in bemusement while Evallan struggled for composure.

“I, well...” He spewed helplessly for a moment. “I...miss my home, that is all. We tended towards such climates, and would entertain ourselves in foolish ways...”

Dorian nodded, attentive.

“I have to confess to you, my Herald...it was quite entertaining.” He chortled, teasing and warm. “But I do think I understand.”

“Yes, of course-” Evallan tried to speak over his unease. “You also find yourself far from home.”

He nodded again but seemed averse to that topic- eyes shifting from Evallan's for the first time.

“Well, everything always works out...” He said vaguely. “But I should be heading off, I think- I see your fellows beginning to stir...”

It was unfortunate he couldn't invite the Blood Mage to stay, Evallan thought. He might be able to guarantee the man's safety but judging by his skittishness, Dorian wouldn't trust that enough to be comfortable.

“I do hope you enjoy the gift,” He said in a chipper tone. “Who knows...perhaps you'll give me something in return someday.”

Dragged from his pondering, Evallan lofted a brow, not really thinking of his response;

“Gifts are not typically given with an expectation.”

“Aren't they?” Dorian mused, chortling as if to himself. “Well...some of them are in a way, no? Dowries, for example.”

“I...” He struggled to process what had been said. “...Pardon?”

Which inspired a chuckle from the Tevinter, shaking his head.

“Just thinking out loud, my darling Herald.” He bowed lowly, with a mock-level of respect. “I must be off- you will take care of our Lunis, I trust.”

“I will- of course.” He stumbled verbally, not comprehending the exchange.

Dorian just smiled and sauntered back into the shadows, leaving Evallan's heart in his throat.

“I do not know if you should be accepting such...'gifts' from...renegade Blood Mages.” The Seeker admonished, watching as Lunis sped around the Chantry hall- chasing a moth.

“I sense no ill intent from the man.” Evallan assured, fighting to keep a straight face. “And it is a fine creature.”

“Does it have a name?” Solas asked from behind his tea-cup, observing warily.

“The Blood Mage addressed him as 'Fenharel'.”

Solas instantly began choking, spittle flying everywhere. Unable to maintain his facade any longer, Evallan burst into laughter.

“I know, I know! Do not worry, I told him I would not curse him with such a name. I have called him Lunis.”

“Yes, far...that is a far more appropriate name, Herald.” The other elf muttered, dabbing tea from his face.

“I truly cannot fathom...” Cassandra grumbled, leering. “...How you survived the wilderness as a mage child.”

Evallan snorted, genuinely tickled.

“I had my clan to protect me- and now I have all of you!”

“A task that will increase in complexity as the days progress, I am certain.” She sighed, not matching his cheer.

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heyyouwiththeassbutt · 4 years

Text

The Christmas Gift (Part 1)

Summary - Christmas with your super-soldier friends had become a tradition. Until one of them can't make it and everything changes, thanks to an early Christmas present. Part 1 of 2.

Pairing - Steve Roger x Reader

Warning - Major smut in future chapter and just a little bit in this chapter. Dubious consent (kinda sorta sex pollen??). Cursing. If I’ve missed anything, please let me know!

Word Count - 3,536

A/N - Part one of my two-part Christmas fic challenge. All mistakes are my own. Feedback is greatly needed and appreciated.

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December 24th, 2019

10:21

"This had better be important." You huffed out, the grave tone of your voice more than a hint that you had been deep in sleep before your phone had begun to ring. The laugh on the other end of the phone had been far too bright and airy for this early in the morning. "Just calling to let you know I've landed, Doll. Grabbing a cab and should be there within half an hour." Steve's words bounced around your head for a few seconds before you sighed and pushed yourself into an upright position on your far too comfortable bed. For the last four years, you had welcomed the famous Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes into your home for Christmas. It had been an offhanded comment about how you spent Christmas by yourself since you couldn't get the time off work to travel home to your folks, but you were more than happy when you opened your front door that first Christmas Eve to see your two closest friends, arms filled with bags of Christmas food and gifts. You were a lowly techie within the Stark tower, but after crossing paths with the boys only a few times, they'd taken you under their wings and your friendship with them became one of the most important things in your life. Throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of comfy shorts, you listened as Steve told you about their most recent mission, how he had worried it was going to last over the Christmas period, and how Sam had threatened to murder Bucky twice, just for being Bucky. "I'll talk to him when you get here, he needs to learn how to talk to Sam like a regular human." You laughed softly as you left your room and headed for the kitchen to throw on a pot of coffee. Silence greeted you at the end of the line. "Stevie? Have I lost you?" "No... I'm still here. Did Buck not tell you?" "Tell me what?" "He's, ah, he's not coming this year."

10:59 Steve was leaning against your kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee as you angrily paced back and forth. It wasn't even that he wasn't coming that had bothered you, it was that he hadn't even told you. "It's just downright rude. I bought a turkey! And that bread sauce he likes!" You groaned out, sitting at the kitchen island, a pout on your lips. Steve nodded, a small smile on his face as he looked up from his coffee cup, "If it makes you feel better, I like bread sauce too." You rolled your eyes, but a smile settled on your face. At least Steve was still there. You'd make sure to text Bucky your annoyance later, but for now, you focused on the fact your friend was here for the first time in months. Things had been crazy for a long time, between Steve and Buckys missions and the new project Tony had you working on, you'd missed far too many of your usual catch-up coffees and late-night movie marathons with your friends. It was almost a sense of relief that flooded you at having your friend back. You hopped down from the chair and walked over to him, a grin on your face, "What ya get me for Christmas?" Steves smile faded and he shook his head, pointing a finger at you accusingly, "No. You do this every year, I'm keeping it a secret until tomorrow." Your pout returned as you wrapped your arms around his waist, his large hand resting on your hip and your chin resting on his chest, looking up at him through your lashes, "Please Stevie? You know I hate waiting..." There was a long pause where neither of you spoke, just looking at each other. Steve stood still, one hand clutching the coffee cup, the other frozen on your hip. You peered up at him questioningly before he seemed to pull himself out of whatever he had been thinking of and cleared his throat, removing his hand from you and setting down the coffee cup. He moved out of your reach as he muttered that he needed the bathroom, vanishing down the hallway. You stared after him. That was new.

14:33 Elf was playing on the TV as you and Steve relaxed on the couch, him laying halfway across it as you lay with your legs across his. This morning's weirdness had faded, but it still stuck in your mind. You had always been affectionate with the boys, and them you. It wouldn't have been unusual to find the three of you cuddling in your bed after they failed to get you out of bed on one of their visits, you pulling them down onto the comfy mattress until you all found yourselves drifting back to sleep. It had become normal for you to hug each other for extended periods after a long, stressful day when you just needed the touch of another person. Steves odd behavior this morning had confused you. It probably didn't seem that strange to anyone else, but you couldn't get past the knowledge that if you'd done the same thing when Bucky was there, Steve would have probably grabbed you into a hug, trapping your arms as Bucky snuck up behind you, tickling you until you were squealing and relenting that your gift could stay a surprise. You had missed most of the movie as your brain worked a mile a minute. Maybe Bucky was the reason it had been weird. Steve was a gentleman. It was possible he didn't think it right to be showing you that effection when the two of you were alone. Come to think of it, you couldn't really remember a time when you and Steve had spent much time together alone. A small squeeze on your ankle brought you back to the present, your gaze shot to Steve as you blinked slowly. He was watching you with a smile on his face, "I asked if you wanted lunch, Doll." You hadn't realized how hungry you were until he said it, having only had a slice of buttered toast this morning. "Food sounds good, I have lasagne in the fridge, made it special." You grinned as you swung your legs off the couch and made your way to the kitchen. Steve paused the movie and followed you, him lifting plates out of the cupboard as you switched on the oven to reheat the food. You fell into your familiar pattern, talking about nothing in particular as you grated extra cheese for the top of the lasagna and Steve started on the salad. By the time the oven had pre-heated and the dish was in, you were in the middle of a light-hearted debate about why Bucky had canceled on your Christmas tradition. It reminded you that you still hadn't texted him and you grabbed your phone from where you had abandoned it on the kitchen counter earlier. You lent over the counter, your elbows braced on it as you began to type a seething text message. You were vaguely aware that Steve stood behind you, reading over your shoulder as you crafted your message. Hello Bucky, if that even is your real name. I don't feel that I even know you anymore. Not only did you not let me know you wouldn't be coming this year, but you also didn't tell Stevie that you hadn't told me. I'm not mad, Bucky. I'm just disappointed. P.S. Steve is utterly devastated to be without you, and has a notion that you have in fact canceled as you are so in love with him that you cannot stand to be with him another holiday without letting your true feelings be known, but it is fine, as we all know you wanna fuc- Steve grabbed the phone from your hands as you dissolved into giggles. He held you tight by the waist as he began to delete the message, you struggling in his arms as you attempt to reach for the phone. "Don't delete it, please, it's my masterpiece! He needs to know, Stevie!" You were still laughing as you struggled against him, your back pressed tightly to his body as he held the phone out of your reach, a grin on his face. He deleted the message and looked down at you, redness on your cheeks from your fit of laughter and the strain of attempting to free yourself from his grip. He froze again. You almost tumbled to the ground as he released you, turning to check on the lasagna and leaving you unsteady on your feet as you stared at his back.

19:12 Your phone buzzed as you received a text. As per your tradition, you were mid-way through putting the last of the decorations on the tree. Your tree had been up from the 15th, but you had only put the lights on, leaving the decorations until you were all together. "Could you see who that is?" You called over to Steve, who stood by the fireplace, fastening the golden tinsel to the mantel. He lifted your phone from the table in front of him and laughed softly before he read it aloud, "Sorry to miss Christmas, babe, duty calls. Steve has a present from me in his bag, you can open it whenever you want. Love, Buck." You rolled your eyes, then jumped up and rushed over to Steve, your eyes bright, "So I do get to find out what my present is?" Steve shrugged as he headed towards the hallway where he'd left his things, "I didn't know he'd put anything in my bag." "Some super-soldier you are." You joked as you followed after him. After a few minutes of Steve looking through his bags, he pulls out a small, box. He hands it over to you and you smile smugly before the smile fades and you bite your lip. "What if its a trick and he's going to shout at me for opening it before Christmas?" "I won't tell if you won't." Steve laughed, his eyes on the present, as curious as you are. You shrug and pull open the lid, pausing as you look at the sachet inside, labeled in Buckys' handwriting, 'Super special hot chocolate for my super special best friends'. You laughed softly and showed Steve what was inside the box. He lifts it out, an eyebrow raised as he reads it. He lifts out a second sachet that you hadn't seen, this one filled with mini marshmallows. The three of you always had hot chocolate on Christmas Eve, but you did find it slightly odd that this was what he'd given you. Shaking off the strange feeling, you put the sachets in the kitchen, sending off a quick thank you message along with a few confused emojis to Bucky before you went back to decorating the tree.

22:35 Throwing the empty Chinese takeaway containers into the trash, you stretched your hands above your head, your back making a satisfying cracking noise after several hours of laying awkwardly on the couch watching movies with Steve. Your gaze fell on the sachets on the kitchen counter and you smiled softly. "Wanna see if this hot chocolate is poisoned?" You called to Steve as you pulled the milk and whipped cream from the fridge. He answered in an affirmative grunt which made you laugh. You were pretty sure your laziness was rubbing off on him. Three minutes later, you handed him his mug, adorned with whipped cream, marshmallows and a drizzle of chocolate sauce you'd remembered at the last second. He smiled up at you as he took it, settling his free hand on your lower leg as you once again stretched your legs across his. Falling into a comfortable silence, you took a drink of the hot chocolate and went back to watching whatever movie Steve had put on.

23:07 You felt weird. It wasn't a bad feeling, just... strange. Peering down at your empty mug, you couldn't stop a hint of worry from creeping into your mind. The thought wouldn't leave you as you tried your hardest to focus on the movie. It only lasted a few minutes, before you couldn't stand it and leaned over to the coffee table and lifting your phone. Quickly tapping to call Bucky, you became aware of Steve's hand running gently up and down your bare leg. "Opened your present yet?" Bucky's voice in your ear pulled you back from a sudden, wandering thought that had thrown your mind into overdrive. Clearing your throat, you tried to keep your tone even, "Yeah, we just drank it... Thank you. So, um, what made it so 'Super Special'?" Steve made eye contact with you as Bucky laughed. You knew from how close he was, Steve would have been able to hear him even without his super hearing. "Just a little something I picked up on a mission. Did you like it?" "It was nice. What kind of something?" The hand Steve was running up and down your leg was extremely distracting, so much so that you had to ask Bucky to repeat what he'd said. He laughed again and you could hear the smirk in his voice, "You'll find out soon enough, Babe. Happy Christmas." Just like that, the line went dead and you found yourself staring at the darkened screen. You looked at Steve and shrugged, setting your phone back on the coffee table as you tried to put your attention back to the television. His hand was warm on your lower thigh as Steve turned his gaze back to the movie. You felt him shift slightly, straightening a little bit as his other hand came to one of your socked feet, gently massaging the sole of your foot. Steve had given you a foot rub before. It had been nice, relaxing. This time felt less relaxing and you felt your cheeks heat up as his thumb dragged gently across the skin of your thigh. You stayed that way for a few minutes, almost stuck still as your eyes wandered to his hand. Trying to keep your breath even, you made eye contact with him. His gaze was searing, the blue of his eyes almost hidden by the deep black of his pupils. Within seconds, he had pulled you onto him, straddling his thick thighs as your breath caught in your throat. You wondered as he looked up at you if your pupils were as blown as his. You didn't have much time to think about it as his hand went to the back of your neck, pulling you down into a searing kiss. Body pressed tightly against his, your hands landed on his shoulders, pulling him somehow even closer. His hand on your neck gripped tighter as his other arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place. The kiss deepened, your body alight as his tongue brushed across your lips, seeking permission. You weren't ashamed to say you moaned as you allowed him access, your tounges battling for dominance and if it didn't feel so good, you might have relented to him. You ground yourself down on him, your body working of its own accord as he let out a hiss, breaking the kiss and dropping his head to pant across your throat, dropping kisses and sucking on the skin there as he did. Small gasps left your lips as you continued to grind against him. He was hard and ready pressed against your core through his jeans and your shorts. You whimpered as he pulled away from your neck, annoyance on your face as his hand on your waist gripped you harder, stilling your movements. Guilt washed across his face as his forehead lent against yours, his eyes still blown black and his lips swollen from your kiss. Leaning in to catch those full lips again, he made a noise deep in his throat as he kissed you back, softer than the first time. It was over too quickly as he pulled away, "Stevie, please." You could hear the whine in your voice as you begged. You peppered kisses across his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, all while he stayed silent, his eyes closed tightly as he seemed to be having an internal battle with himself. His hand came up to your cheek, pushing you just far enough away that he could look into your eyes. "You don't want this, Doll. Bucky put something in the hot chocolate. You aren't... We aren't ourselves right now." The words wouldn't register in your brain. You didn't understand. Your gaze dropped to his chest as you bit your lip. "Do you not want me, Steve?" He growled again, low and frustrated, "You know I do. I want you so badly. But you aren't thinking straight." "I am thinking straight, I want you," you argued, tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks as you were met with a furious wave of rejection, "I'll be so good for you, Steve, I promise." Steve's hand on your waist tightened as he threw his head back, looking to the ceiling and blowing out a long breath. You could tell he was fighting his want, and you used it to your advantage and you rolled your hips on him again. All at once, you were lifted off of him and set on the sofa as Steve stood. Steve was pacing across the room, his hands running through his blonde hair as his t-shirt lifted just enough to catch a glimpse of the deep V of his stomach. Your mouth watered, even more so when you saw the pronounced bulge in his jeans. Staying silent, you sat there, watching him, waiting for him to make up your mind, but there was a voice in your head telling you how much you needed him that was quickly taking over all other thought. Stilling, Steve looked at you as he pulled his mobile from the back pocket of his jeans. You didn't need to see the screen to know who he was dialing as he lifted the phone to his ear.

23:49 Steve had been out of the room for at least 10 minutes, and you were fighting the overwhelming desire to seek him out.

You sat on the couch, your kneeling with your feet under you as you had been when he left, you hadn't moved an inch.

The ache between your legs was more than uncomfortable and you knew if he didn't come back soon there was a very real possibility that he'd come back to you with your fingers rubbing at your swollen clit.

As your will power was starting to fade even more so, he marched into the room, his face unreadable as he stopped not even a foot in front of you.

You longed to reach out and touch him but he held a hand out to stop you as if he could read your thoughts.

"I spoke to Bucky." You nod in understanding, focused on the curve of his plush lips.

"He said that it's temporary, it'll be gone by morning." He continued. "What does it do?" Your voice shook slightly as Steve stood above you. So close, but you knew if you reached out he wouldn't let you touch him. An exasperated sigh left him as he ran his hand through his hair, "It doesn't matter. He's not even 100% certain."

Tilting your head, you read the lie on his face. You'd gotten good at telling when Steve was lying, having learned his tell after many evenings of Poker with your boys. He looked down at you and knew he was caught, your eyebrow raised as you said nothing, but continued to stare him down. "He said... It was a desire thing. Unlocks... something or allows something. It was hard to focus on what he was saying." Looking at the bulge still prominent in his jeans in front of you, you fought the urge to smirk. Yeah, you were sure it was hard. "Is that enough proof?" You said slowly, now pulling yourself up to stand in the small space in front of him. He made no attempt to move back and for the first time, you thought about how he must be feeling the same way that you did. But he had stopped it. What a gentleman. "Proof?" He swallowed. "If it... unlocks or allows... something... It has to be something you feel already, right? Is that not enough proof I desire you, Stevie?" The resolve on his face was slowly dissolving as he looked down at you. "I want you, Stevie. Please." Just like that, his hands were on your ass as he lifted you into his arms, your arms and legs wrapping around him as you crashed your lips to each others. You were vaguely aware Steve was walking, the two of you somewhere, but you honestly didn't care where so long as his lips stayed on yours.

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