#its Lip staring starting at his sister like she might disappear because he was picturing her dead somewhere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dr4cking · 3 years

Text

The Unexpected Summer.

draco malfoy x reader | smut |

it was the summer time, all of the students in hogwarts has returned to spend their summer in their own house, and as for the slytherins squad, draco, y/n, blaise, pansy, the greengrass sisters, theo, crabbe and goyle are spending their summer together at y/n's manor because her parents will not gonna be home for the summer this time. the boys were hanging out at the pool, talking about some girls and taking pictures.

as for the girls, they were still in y/n's room, picking out their bikinis, getting ready, hyping up and complimenting each other.

"oh my god y/n!! you look so hot in that bikini, draco will drool once he sees you in it!" astoria said as she admiring y/n in her bikini, the others agreeing with her making y/n blush.

"yes you do y/n! draco will lose his mind when he sees you! and if he doesnt take you to the bed immediately, i definitely would" pansy said and earned a whistle from daphne, making y/n blushed more.

"oh shut up you two youre making me blush! y'all look hot too, and im not wearing this for him, we're just bestfriends!" y/n chuckles at her last sentence.

"ooh! i smell lies, you know you're not a good liar" daphne said mocking her singing the last part making all the girls laugh.

y/n just rolled her eyes playfully and walked out of the door, the girls following behind.

as they walked out to the pool, the boys instantly turning their heads looking at their way, whistling at the girls walking like a queens.

"woah damn y/n, you're making me speechless" draco said smiling cheekily to y/n, he feels his part twitching under his boxers when he saw her, he approaches her and giving a kiss on her cheek making her blush, taking her hand on his as their friends go wild.

"told you, babe!" pansy shouted as she jumped into the pool.

"what is she talking about y/n?" draco asks while y/n blushing madly now, giving pansy a death stare.

"n- nothing! you know how she is" she chuckled nervously.

"if you dont tell me the truth y/n," draco pick her up by her waist and throw her to the pool, he laughed uncontrollably seeing her mad face as she surfaces.

"oh no you didnt just do that draco!!" y/n yelled as she get out of the pool, draco take it as his cue to run, y/n already chasing him from behind. they both were laughing and shouting.

draco keep running back into her house, y/n still followed him behind, and as he ran to the corner, he stuck and have nowhere to go only y/n's room at the sight, he heard her footsteps behind and quickly running to her room, before he get the chance to close the door y/n already appeared and smirking at him, she pushed draco onto the bed, tackling him. waters from her wet hair dripped down to his face as they both giggles.

"ha! gotcha ferret! dont you dare mess with the queen!" y/n laugh as she straddles him on her bed, pinning his hands above him causing him to flustered.

"yeah and what you gonna do about it, little girl?" draco smirk at her trying to escape his hands, fuck, y/n looks so hot on top of him, he thought to himself.

"oh im gonna tied you and throw you to the pool, ferret!" y/n giggles still pinning his hands not letting him go that easily, what she didnt realizes she was moving and rolling her hips on his crotch. draco screwed his eyes shut and let out a moan making her freeze.

"fuck y/n you need to get off of me now" draco said as she didnt make a move while his boner started to grow underneath her, she snapped back into the reality.

"or what, draco?" y/n said leaning her face and whisper seductively into his ear, rolling her hips harder on his one more time, making him moaned again.

"or im gonna flipped us over, im gonna be on top and fuck you senseless and maybe ruin our friendship" draco replied boldly causing y/n to whimpered at his words getting aroused down there, looking back to him, she smirked.

"what are you waiting for then? do it, ruin our friendship, draco" and at that draco flipped them over, now on top of y/n, started to take all control in his hands.

"you sure about this, bestie? you might be not ready for my huge cock" now it was his time to pinned her hands, smirking at her.

"you're all talk drakey, prove it to me" y/n stuck out her tongue, mocking him, draco scoffed and leaned down to her, catching her tongue, colliding it with his, he rubbed his boner on her clothed pussy, grinding his hips on her, they both let out a moan at the friction.

"oh whats got you so excited, baby? you're so wet, look its making a spot on your bikini" draco chuckles rubbing her wet underwear making y/n whined.

"merlin draco just stop talking and put your 'oh so big' dick inside me already" draco gasped at her words, his smirk getting wider as he sat up to take off his boxers, and y/n does the same too.

"no, leave it on, i wanna fuck you in that bikini, it has been teasing me ever since you walked your cute ass to the pool" draco pointing at her to not taking her bikini off, so she just watched him pulling down and kicking his boxers to the floor, his dick standing tall in front of her, she widen at his size, she has no idea he was this big, she thought he was all talk. draco noticed and chuckles lowly at her.

"now you believe me, hm? why so surprised? never had someone this big? dont worry, it will be all yours after this, baby" draco pushes her panties aside, they both know they cant hold it anymore, he starts to pushing in, slowly to not hurt her and wanting her to feel every part of his veiny cock going inside her, stretching her walls out so wide as he finally fully inside. y/n let out a scream of his name and draco let her adjust.

"fuck you're so big draco, god.. you're destroying my inside" y/n wrapped her legs on his waist, her hands on his neck to pull him for a kiss to ease the pain. they kissed as if their lives depends on it.

"move now draco" y/n broke the kiss and draco started to move slowly, pulling out and slamming it again, each time it gets deeper and harder as he started to pick up the pace.

"fuck- y/n, your cunt is so tight, hugging my cock so tight, shit- feels so good" draco started to pounding harder and faster leaving no space between their bodies, he groans as he watched his cock disappeared inside her.

"holyshit draco, you're tearing me apart" y/n cant control her sinful noises anymore, both of them is in the cloud nine, feeling heavenly, draco look down at her like she's an angel, his hands found her breasts, grabbing and squeeze them through her bikini, he pulls her tits out of it and starts to toying and pinching her nipples, his mouth latching to one of them instantly, sucking and biting softly like a baby.

"fuck, this feel so much better than i've imagined, y/n" draco plopped her wet boobs out and fastening his thrust, going up to mark her neck, giving his love bites.

"you've imagined this?" y/n asked through her moans, her hands tugging at his blonde hair.

"you dont?" draco replaced his mouth with his hand, choking her while he kisses her jaw and bite her earlobe, sending butterflies to her stomach. y/n just nodded shutting her eyes in pleasure, draco smirk and whispers a "naughty girl" into her ear.

y/n let out a sudden scream of his name and he knows it, he had just hit her spot, he continues pounding into her spot making y/n going crazy and a mess under him.

"oh my god- dray i‘m so close-" y/n warned him as her high started to approaching her.

"cum love, cum on your best friend's cock, show me how much of a slutty best friend you are for me" and that was it for y/n, she screamed his name one last time loudly, shutting her eyes in pleasure seeing the stars as she cum hard around his cock, her orgasm is so good that it makes her head dizzy, draco groans at the sight of her juices coating his cock, his thrusts getting sloppier, and he pulls out of her and knelt infront of y/n's face.

draco jerks himself off in front of her face, his hand gripping at her hair, placing her face closer to his cock, and with final pump, he spilled all of his warm thick cums on y/n's face, it landed on her cheeks, forehead, chin, and nose, basically all over her face, y/n stuck out her tongue and catches some of his cum that still hasnt ended, draco shoves his cock to her mouth to land the last spurts of his cum and ride out his orgasm. y/n look up to him innocently and swallow it, he smiles at her, pulling out and taps his now soft dick on her mouth twice, he wipes his cum on her face with his fingers and shove them inside her mouth, y/n suck them clean and he rolls to the side.

"its official y/n, our friendship is ruined now, why dont we becoming more than best friends?" draco laughed as he pulls her waist to get closer to him, kissing her lips passionately showering her with love.

"sounds like a good idea, drakey" y/n smirked at the nickname as she broke the kiss.

they both getting dressed and walking back to the pool, and everyone has know it when they saw their flustered face, sweaty and marked bodies.

"shut up, all of you." y/n grabs draco's face and kiss him in front of their friends, they give them a middle fingers as the others whistling and shouting.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco smut #draco oneshot #draco x reader #draco x y/n #harry potter

1K notes · View notes

bookofmirth · 3 years

Text

You Are My Almanac - elucien 1

Summary

Elain Archeron finds herself stuck in an engagement that her mother had arranged before her untimely death. Elain is determined not to like the man and to create a solitary life leading her household the way she wants, but her fiancé has an annoying habit of making her like him.

AO3 | tags: arranged marriage, Regency-era inspired but not faithful. These two are wary of one another and I got a bit snarky when I wrote this first chapter because I want it to be fun, not super angsty. Oh also the title is from the song almanac by Purity Ring.

Elain had perfected the art of staring out a carriage window without being jostled around like a dice in one of the cups her sisters used when playing one of the games played with guests after dinner. Their mother disapproved of the games, of course, but that hardly mattered when all it took to please her was an appropriately humble “yes ma’am” whenever it was required. And it took Elain quite an effort to remain upright and steady in the carriage as it traveled over the country roads, but it was suffer a sore back and look lovely as possible for her current rendezvous, or suffer the mortification. Elain would much rather maintain appearances. At least for now.

Because now, Elain could say “yes ma’am” or “please, maman”, until she was blue in the face, and it would be for nothing, since her dear mother had upheld her promise to see Elain engaged to a fine, wellbred young man with a suitable income, but then she had died before bothering to see what Elain thought of the man, or even introducing them.

For Elain was on her way to meet her betrothed. The word rolled off the tongue, betrothed, or it had, when she was still a child and had imagined that she would have any choice in the matter. When the word still held a sense of romance and promise.

And Elain Archeron had found herself betrothed, that was certain, though it had happened quite without any influence or input from herself.

She had a vague idea of the kind of man she wanted to marry. Kind and considerate, tall, a handsome rider, with extensive property and an income that would support her in at least the style to which she was currently accustomed, if not better. Elain was firm in her belief that she wasn’t asking for much. If he were political minded then that might suit her even better, as she had always imagined hosting important people at her dinners, not just the Beddors from down the lane.

Who were the Vanserras, anyway? Elain had never heard of the name, had never seen it when she flipped through the pages of Burke’s Peerage, Baronetage, and Knightage, not to mention that the family lived very far away!

Or that might have been a complaint Elain would have lodged to her sisters, had they not also found themselves engaged and then married to men who lived in that part of the country which Elain had heard described as “lovely, in the right light and at certain times of year”.

Elain’s knowledge of the rest of the country was limited, to be sure. But she didn’t much like the idea of being thrust into a new home, with a man she didn’t know, in a town where she hadn’t even established a proper seamstress. It was important to find one who wouldn’t give her that look when she came in with tattered, muddy skirt hems. Her cheeks heated at the idea of her future husband scolding her about the zeal with which she engaged in her hobbies.

When the carriage came to an abrupt halt, Elain realized that Feyre had been talking for the last minute or so and Elain hadn’t caught a word. She looked at her sister, younger and yet more worldly than Elain ever hoped to be. Where Elain knew people, Feyre understood the bigger picture of what it took to survive.

She gave her sister a small smile and Feyre reached across the carriage to pat Elain’s hand.

“I’m sure he will be perfectly nice, dearest. And if he isn’t, there are plenty of ways of ensuring that your husband stays out of your hair. Not that I would need them.” Feyre said this last part with a small, secret smile.

Elain fought the urge to roll her eyes. “If it comes to that, I’ll be sure to come to you, Feyre. You are one of the lucky ones though, you know.” The door to the carriage opened and Elain held out her hand without a glance at the footman. “Not everyone is so lucky as to marry for love.”

The sisters stepped from the carriage, the gravel of the drive crunching under their shoes. Elain held a hand up to her forehead to shield the sun from her eyes. She was unable to take in the manor in one glance, and turned in a full circle to take in as much of the property as she could before meeting her fiancé and going inside her future home. To her doom.

At least this man, Lucien Vanserra, had a man to keep his grounds meticulous. The shrubbery had been cleverly chosen and the flowers were full of pollinating bees, which would make for interesting experiments in cross-pollination, though perhaps she might do something about the grove of fruit trees - they were too far away from the water source to be effective. And Elain wondered at the status of the fruit, how much of it went to use in the house and how much went to the local residents. Hopefully - Elain grimaced at the thought - it didn’t fall to the ground and go to waste.

Elain felt a tug at her elbow and turned to find Feyre, waiting with her head inclined to the door. The front door, underneath a large, elaborately-carved portico, where the first footman stood at attention, waiting to usher the women into the home. And to his left, a tall man with fiery red hair, tied back with a black ribbon, stood waiting to greet her.

Elain’s breath caught to see him. He was younger than she had expected. She wouldn’t have put it past her mother to bridle her with a septuagenarian if he had offered the right price. So that this man, this Mr. Vanserra, was at most ten years older than her… Elain was disappointed to find herself pleased. And he certainly was well-acquainted with a proper clothier, if the fit of his vest and trousers were any indication.

Feyre stepped forward first. “Lucien! It is so good to see you.”

Mr. Vanserra lowered his head slightly. “Lady Chevalier, thank you for visiting my home today. I hope that Rhysand is doing well.”

“’Lady Chevalier’ my eye, call me Feyre, Lucien.” She took his hands into her own and it seemed that he might have reciprocated her familiarity had Elain not been there. His eyes flicked to her and then back to Feyre, seeming to already be wary of how he appeared to her.

“Lucien, this is my sister, Elain.”

The rest of the greeting hung in the air and Elain could have tasted the words. Elain, your fiancée. Elain, the woman you have never met but who will share your bed. She nearly reddened at the thought and forced herself to pay attention to the situation at hand.

Lucien turned away from Feyre and took a step closer to Elain.

Elain curtsied. “Mr. Vanserra. You have a lovely manor.” And hopefully, I won’t see much of you in it, she added silently to herself.

Lucien lifted Elain’s gloved hand to his lips, pressing so softly that she wasn’t sure when it was over, if he had actually made contact. Wouldn’t have known it had happened, really, if not for the slight warming of her skin.

“Miss Archeron,” he said, bending at the waist, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Allow me to welcome you to my home.” His eyes alighted on hers as he said the words - my home - for it wasn’t their home yet. And they were both painfully aware that it would be.

Lucien extended his hand to gesture at the imposing double-doored entrance and stood upright.

Elain lowered her head slightly in deference. “Thank you for the welcome. The property really is lovely,” she couldn’t help adding. Lucien looked into her face with earnestness and she took note of the golden warmth of one eye, while the other was traversed by a brutal scar, one she wouldn’t have expected to see on a Lord of the peerage. “The grass is… very green.”

“Ah, yes,” Lucien responded. He took a step back and surveyed the lawn as if he hadn’t noticed its color before. “I had it specially grown. Just for its…. verdancy.”

Her hand fell to her side when Lucien let go of hers, and she momentarily forgot what to do with it. She glanced at Feyre, whose hands were clasped together in front of her waist, and Elain mirrored the posture.

“Well, ladies. I have had tea set out for us. I’m sure you could use some refreshment after your travels.”

Feyre made a small curtsy in response and Elain fell into line behind her.

The first footman hurried ahead of them and opened the front door. The interior of the home was a dark, yawning chasm.

And with that, Elain took a step forward, into the home of her future husband.

***

Thanks for reading! You may have noticed my tag list has disappeared. If you want to be on it again, even if months or years pass without an update, let me know! Sorry if you have requested in the past and intended to stay on it forever, I just figured that things change in the years since I started writing fanfic. 💕

#elucien #elucien fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #arranged marriage au #my writing

93 notes · View notes

harryspet · 4 years

Text

wrapped in red | p.parker & b.barnes

[Warnings] dark? peter parker x reader, dark bucky barnes x reader, peter is still pretty sweet and bucky is evil, aged up peter, mafia/gang au, gang boss!bucky, waitress!reader, noncon/dubcon sex, light bondage, kidnapping, bucky likes to watch

A/N: idk its 7 am and I still haven’t slept and now I’m posting this. THIS IS ADULT & TRIGGERING CONTENT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which Peter likes you and Bucky makes you both regret that.

main masterlist

word count: 2.9k

“Can I get you anything else, sir?” You asked the blue-eyed man sitting at table eighteen. Your coworker had an emergency call so you found yourself tasked with tending to the table of two men. You didn’t recognize the man at first but as your eyes connected with his left arm … your breathing hitched in your throat. You smiled through your worry though, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that you knew exactly who he was.

Bucky Barnes ran this neighborhood, but since you had never run into him, it was easy to believe he was just a myth.

“No, doll. Just the check please,” He spoke simply and you might not have been intimidated if you hadn’t noted the many expensive rings on his right hand. The man sitting across from him was younger, his eyes were nervous too as he looked you over. His face was familiar and you thought you might have seen him in one of your classes.

There were several empty beers on the table as well

You nodded your head before turning away, “I’ll be right back.”

Peter’s eyes lingered on you as you walked away from the table. For a moment, he forgot that he was supposed to be counting. His pen roamed over the sheet and over all the numbers.

“See, you’re only making a hundred grand from this guy's shipments. He’s using all your resources to make sure the product is clean but you could easily just do that for yourself. You cut out in the middle man and I think you could triple your profit,” Peter turned the paper so Bucky could look over all the numbers he was running. Peter folded his hands, trying to read the man’s expressions.

As you returned to the table with the check, Peter was once again caught in the trance you put in. He recognized you from his anatomy class. He arrived at class five minutes early every day just to make sure that he could watch you come in. Part of him was unsure of what you’d think of him now, knowing who he was sitting with.

Money didn’t grow on trees and Peter was the man of the house. College was expensive and the rent was even more expensive so he had to do what he could to get by. You were working minimum wage at a rundown restaurant, Peter didn’t doubt that you could understand that. Still, what you did was honest work and Peter couldn’t say the same for himself.

“Thank you, doll,” Bucky thanked you, resting his arms against the table as he smirked up at you, “You doing something tonight? What time do you get off?”

Your lips parted as you stared in shock. Could you just answer a simple no? “I actually have to close up today … so I … uhm-”

“I-It’s okay,” Peter rushed out nervously, seeing the way that Bucky was eyeing you, “That’s it, thank you.”

Your smile was thin and awkward before you walked away.

Peter’s eyes widened with frustration as he stared across the table at the older man, “What are you doing?” Bucky chuckled as he grabbed the check, clicking his pin in order to sign it. Peter didn’t know it but the man was leaving you a hefty tip, “Were you trying to scare her?”

“I was trying to get you a date!” Bucky retorted, “Your good with numbers, kid, and I appreciate you helping me out. I really do but your game with women is a little laughable.”

Peter shook his head in disbelief, “Why does it matter?” Peter lowered his voice as the realization set in that Bucky was right, “Why does it matter what kind of game I have? I’m just here to count your money, right?”

The look in Bucky’s eyes was almost sympathetic, “You count money for now but you’re strong, I can tell. You could become a very valuable person to me if you work at it. And part of being in my little family is having some fucking confidence. You were drooling over that girl instead of manning up and asking her out.”

Peter crossed his arms, “What if she said no?”

Bucky smirked at the younger boy, “She wouldn’t if you had some fucking balls,” Peter rolled his eyes, “But if she did said no … then you chase her. That’s the best part.”

There was something evil in the man's glare but Peter brushed it out. The man was a professional, drug dealing murderer. “You want to ask her to prom or something?”

Peter shook his head, annoyed, “I’m not in high school, Mr. Barnes. I just like her, okay? And it doesn’t matter that I like her because it’s not like we can date. I’m sure we both have bigger things to focus on. Now ... can we go back to talking about the deal that’s going on tomorrow?”

Bucky seemed amused by the kid’s awkwardness, “I like your idea. I hate that Brock guy anyways. He’s overcharging me because I used to mess with his sister. You know … maybe if he’s out of the picture then his sister is free territory.”

“Out of the picture how?” Bucky sensed Peter’s worry and grinned.

“That’s right, you’ve never been on one of my infamous boat rides. You should come,” Peter knew exactly what he meant. If Bucky didn’t like you, you did not want to go on a “boat ride” with him. That was a quick and easy way for your body to end up chained to a brick at the bottom of the Hudson.

“I have a biology project to work on,” Peter said.

“It wasn’t a question, Queens.”

Your heart skipped a beat as a black Escalade pulled up beside you while you were walking home. You didn’t look over as you heard the window roll down. You winced as you continued to walk. You only turned to look as you heard a whistle.

You thought he’d give up after the weird encounter at the restaurant but here he was in all his handsome and dangerous glory, “You need a ride, doll?”

“Uhm, no. But thank you!”

What was it with kids your age? Perhaps Bucky was losing some of his edginess with the younger crowd, “Get in,” Bucky said, much more forward this time, “I just want to talk.”

You took a deep breath as you clutched your purse tightly. You found your feet moving before your mind could catch up. Your body thought you’d be safer going with him rather than arguing with the famous criminal. You heard the rumors about people that went missing because they pissed him off. Every time they seemed to arrest him, he was back on the streets weeks later. The cops, ones who he didn’t pay off, could never pin him to any of the murders.

If you went missing because of Bucky Barnes, you and your legacy were effectively wiped away.

He opened the back door for you and you climbed into the leather seat as he slid over. Shaking, you grabbed your seat belt and buckled yourself in. Bucky was used to the lack of eye contact and shaky fingers. It usually annoyed him but, for you, he found it endearing.

As the door closed, the man in the front seat drove off, “What exactly do you want to talk to me about?” You asked, still confused about the entire situation.

“My friend that sat at the table with me. Peter Parker,” Bucky spoke vaguely.

“We don’t really know each other,” You explained, hoping that guy wasn’t somehow in trouble with Bucky, “We just go to the same college.”

“No, I know,” Bucky continued, “I just know that he’s interested in getting to know you better. And Peter’s a good friend of mine, you know?”

You nodded slowly. That meant Peter was dangerous, “Right. He’s … he’s never talked to me.”

Bucky chuckled, “He’s the shy type. You’re a pretty girl, he probably doesn’t think he’s good enough. That’s why I’m here talking to you.”

“What do you want me to do?” You asked hesitantly.

“That’s a good response,” Bucky gave you a smug look, “You’ll find out soon, doll. Sit tight.”

Your eyes widened as you looked out the tinted window, watching your apartment building pass by. Bucky’s driver gazed at you through the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road.

Peter thought he wouldn’t be able to stomach. Watching a grown man cry and beg for his life before being tossed over the edge. You watched him sink and the bubbles slowly start to disappear as he went deeper, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bucky had said to him.

Peter hated to say that it wasn’t as bad as he believed it would be. Perhaps the years of struggling had blackened his heart. After the murder, Bucky proceeded to drag you back to his million-dollar apartment, wanting to share a drink or to.

Peter almost opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t twenty-one yet but knew the exact reaction he would get from Bucky. Bucky had his arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulder as he showed him to the kitchen, “One day, you’re going to have a place just like this,” He said, hinting at your luxurious surroundings, “You stick with me and you won’t need that piece of shit degree.”

Peter only nodded, accepting a beer from the man. Bucky watched as the boy chugged the content of his glass. Peter hoped it would get him through the rest of the night and help give him some liquid courage, “You’re a weird kid, Queens,” Bucky laughed, “I like it. C’mere, I want to show you something.”

You followed Bucky down the hallway, hoping it wasn’t another disturbing thing that the man found amusing, “What is it?”

“A present,” Bucky grinned, guiding Peter to the door at the end of the hallway. Peter would’ve preferred to be wowed by a million other things. Instead, his mouth was agape because he saw you.

Whatever drugs he had given you to keep you relaxed had completely worn off. It kept you from fighting them when your clothes were cut off from your body. Your vision was blurry and your muscles were weak as they restrained your body. Now, clear as day you could see your captor … and his friend Peter.

You were laid out on the bed, your hands handcuffed behind your back and your ankles tied together by a red ribbon. A red thong barely covered your lower region and a red ribbon wrapped around your front barely covered your nipples. Right in the middle of your chest was a red bow to compliment the red ball gag in your mouth.

Peter flashed Bucky a mortified look. Bucky only sipped at his glass of beer, “Happy fucking birthday, kid,” Bucky beamed, “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

It wasn’t Peter’s birthday and he was definitely not feeling thankful. Peter watched as you struggled in your bondage, frightened tears staining your cheeks. “What the hell are you doing?” Peter asked, his teeth gritted in anger, “I-I didn’t ask you to do this.”

“What?” Bucky sounded offended, “It’s creative! Think of it as a welcoming gift. I know you want to fuck her so here’s your chance. Fuck her and get rid of her-”

Get rid of you?

Bucky was interrupted by a muffled scream which only caused him to roll his eyes, “Or fuck her and keep her, I don’t care.”

“No, no, I’m letting her go-” Before Peter could take a step forward, Bucky’s metal arm gripped his shoulder.

You felt relieved only for a moment. Bucky stepped in front of him, “I’ll fuck her then, no point in letting the opportunity go to waste.”

Peter’s heart stopped, “Mr. Barnes, please.”

“You do it or I will,” Bucky said firmly, “You’re smart and I want to keep you around but if you can’t … take a few fun risks then maybe you’re not the type of person that should work for me.” Bucky’s words settled over him. Peter thought about losing this opportunity and all the money that would come along with it. Looking into your teary eyes, Peter thought about how rough Bucky would be with you. Maybe he could explain that … Peter mentally cursed.

Peter didn’t answer verbally, only pushed past Bucky, walking towards the bed. Peter felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as he stalked towards the bed, “That’s my boy,” Bucky spoke excitedly. He moved towards a lounge chair in the corner of the room, still taking swigs of his drink, “There’s no point in asking. If you want it, take it. Now put on a good show for your dear boss.”

Peter knew there was no going back now. He reached out to touch your arm, only to have you flinch away from his touch. Peter had imagined touching you for the first time and it was nothing like this. Peter turned that sadness to anger in order to fuel his adrenaline.

Peter undid the ribbon around your ankles first. As soon as they were free, you were struggling against him. Peter was much stronger than you assumed and held you in place easily. Next, he moved to your gag, “Pl-Please don’t hurt me,” You begged, your voice hoarse.

You saw something in his eyes similar to regret. Regret for the inevitable. As you shook your head, he said, “I won’t. Just … just don’t struggle,” He tried to assure you but as he moved your body over the edge of the bed, parting your legs and settling between them, you panicked again.

“Peter, please don’t.” He perked up at the sound of his name on your lips and you thought for a moment that you had gotten to him. He paused for a moment, only for a moment, before lifting his shirt above his head. He leaned his body over yours, his mouth brushing over your ear.

“Trust me, you don’t want him touching you. Just relax,” A shiver ran down your spine and you turned your head. Your scared eyes connected with Bucky’s and he smirked. It seemed the two of you were his sick entertainment for tonight. Your breathing was heavy but you tried to keep your muscles calm.

You tried to convince yourself that Peter was the better option. He was your age and he didn’t have that evil look in his eyes. You hated that you preferred him. You hated that you were preferring this.

Peter placed soft kisses along your collarbone and up the side of your neck. It baffled you that you got the feeling that he wanted to be gentle with you. You were ready to jump out of your skin when you felt your panties being moved to the side but you were interrupted by Peter’s lips crashing onto yours.

Soon, you felt him at your entrance, teasing your opening. You gasped against his lips as he slowly sheathed himself inside of you. You wanted him away but you still found that your legs wrapped around him for support.

Peter moved his lips against yours and you felt his own body shudder as your warmness wrapped around his length. He started to move in and out of you and it took you time to get used to the invading feeling. As Peter kissed your tear-stained cheeks, you bit down on your bottom lip. His pace quickened and wished desperately that your hands weren’t handcuffed behind you.

“Y/N,” He grunted into your ear as he made long, deep strokes inside of you, “Fuck, I’m sorry… y-you feel so good.”

As he pushed deep inside of you, your head tilted back and a frustrated moan escaped from your throat. You hated that he was making you feel good too. You felt his hand running up your thigh and then it was between your leg, slowly rubbing that sensitive bulb between your legs. That was enough to have you moving your hips against him.

Bucky watched intently, the blood rushing to that area between his legs. He’d keep you in mind when he was deep inside Brock’s sister.

“Ah, ah,” Peter kissed you, swallowing your moans as you both climaxed together.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Peter was supposed to finally gather the courage to ask for your number towards the end of the semester. You were supposed to text back and forth for a few weeks and then go on a few dates. You were supposed to fall for each other the natural way.

Bucky had stolen all that.

As Peter pulled up his pants, zipping them up, Bucky stood from his chair, “That was moving. Very romantic,” By his tone, Peter could tell the man was hoping for something for brutal. Peter scowled at his boss, “I knew deep down you were a ladies man-”

Peter interrupted, venom in his tone, “What do you want me to do now?”

Bucky only chuckled, “Nothing like some emotional trauma to toughen someone up,” He patted Peter’s shoulder as he made his way to the door, “Why don’t you buy her dinner and then take her home? You can take my car.”

“That’s fucking it? After all that?”

Bucky turned his head as his hand grabbed a hold of the doorknob, “She knows what’ll happen if she runs to the cops. Welcome to the team, Parker.”

hope you enjoyed!!

2K notes · View notes

jonkentt · 3 years

Text

we could move in together

or Bucky suffering but make it crack****

Bucky drops onto the couch with a contented sigh. He stretches out, hands behind his head, smirking like he’s truly done something to be proud of. Sam’s coming over for dinner and finally, finally Bucky’s got a plan. They’ve been alternating these datenights dinners and whenever it’s Sam’s turn he cooks. Big batches of stuff he says he wants to make for Sara and the boys if it’s any good. Course, it’s always good. Bucky loves Sam’s cooking. He loves showing up much too early so he can watch Sam cook. Sam gets in fights with pots and pans, curses under his breath whenever he measures something wrong. You’d think everything he made would be a disaster but somehow, no matter how many times Sam swears that internet recipes are the bane of his existence, the food is delicious. Which makes Bucky feel like an asshole for ordering take-out on his turn every single time.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to cook for Sam. Boy, has he tried. But how can he tell if anything’s edible? Nothing compares to Sam’s cooking. So Bucky’ll make something, taste a spoonful, and decide it’s complete shit just in time for Sam to show up. There’s been a couple of close calls when Sam asked why his apartment smelled like pasta if they were eating deli sandwiches. (“It smells burnt in here, Buck.” “Ha! Yeah, I think my neighbor, uh, had some trouble.”) But tonight, Bucky has a plan. He found a recipe that was supposed to be “fool proof” and practiced making it yesterday. Sure it’s a mac-n-cheese casserole but there were several different cheeses in it so… that should count for something. He had a dish waiting to be put it in the oven when Sam arrived.

“I think we got this all tied up, don’t you Alpine?” Bucky says to the rabbit as she makes her way across the room to settle on his feet. Alpine’s favorite place to sit is on Bucky’s feet, which he thinks is adorable. He considers cuddling Alpine on his lap but Sam will be here any minute and he doesn’t need to be covered in bunny hair. Bucky as some class. The self-satisfied grin is still plastered to his face when Sam let’s himself into his apartment.

“Sam! You gotta explain this show to me! TV doesn’t make sense anymore.” His smile falters when he turns to see Sam crossing the room in long strides, some kind of burning intent clear on his face. “Uh—” Sam lands on the couch turned towards him. Bucky is keenly aware of the lack of personal space Sam has left between them. Sam’s knee is practically in his lap. Bucky sits there with his mouth half open, struck by the intensity of Sam’s stare. He doesn’t look angry, so that’s good at least. But what the fuck?

“Did you tell Sarah we were moving in together?”

Bucky blinks. “Wha—”

“At the cookout. Sarah just asked me if we’d found a place yet. What the hell? You can’t just tell my sister that we’re moving in together and not let me know!”

Bucky lets out a startled laugh. “The cookout? That was weeks ago! I’m sure she was just messing with you—”

“So you were joking?” Again, Bucky’s smile slides off his face. What is happening? Sam is not kidding right now. He might very actually be pissed off. But it was a joke? …wasn’t it?

“I…” Bucky trails off. So he’s been daydreaming about living with Sam. But that’s not what Bucky tells himself. He’s just picturing their dinners together at different times of day. Like in the mornings. Sam in pajamas is a quintessential element of these daydreams.

“Were you serious, Bucky? I’m trying to imagine that you wouldn’t just run your mouth off around my sister as a joke.” Sam is pinning him with this intense expression that Bucky can’t figure out and it’s taking all his self control not to squirm.

“I guess… it wasn’t.”

Sam keeps up the laser eyes till Bucky can practically feel two points boring through his skull. Finally, Sam sighs.

“Man…” Sam says, slowly shaking his head. He takes Bucky’s hand and holds it to his chest, just like they had outside Sarah’s house after Bucky confessed an overdue apology. But now, Bucky’s hand is literally against Sam’s chest and he can feel Sam’s heart beating. The thud, thud makes his stomach flip. Bucky stares at their hands. Sam is so close and that’s making him forget how to breathe. Maybe he should be looking somewhere else. Somewhere other than Sam’s hand gripping his. Listening to something other than Sam’s heartbeat. When Bucky meets Sam’s eyes again he regrets it instantly. This is 100x worse than before. This is tender.

“If you’re going to do this, you gotta be sure.” Sam’s voice is warm. His brown eyes are warm. His hand is warm. His chest is— you get the idea. Bucky’s brain still isn’t processing what the hell Sam is talking about. “Cause I won’t have you fuckin’ around with my heart.” Wait- what? “I don’t have the time or the mental space to deal with that. You understand?” Bucky would literally rather be in cryo right now. “Bucky.” The fuck does Sam expect him to say? If he starts moving his lips then words should form eventually.

“I wouldn’t do…” This is a struggle. Sam raises an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t do what?”

“Fuck around.” It comes out barely a whisper. Sam sighs and Bucky thinks he’s actually going to die.

“What are we talking about, Buck? How you wouldn’t lie to my sister? Or how—”

“Yeah! Sure! I don’t know!” Bucky has class. He swears to god he used to have class. “I wouldn’t lie to Sarah! Yeah, I do want to live with you. It’s kinda the only thing I think about. But I didn’t know how to tell YOU that!” There’s a grin spreading across Sam’s face and it’s making Bucky feel things. “And I wouldn’t fuck around with your heart! That’s literally the last thing I would ever do! Your heart is very important to me and I would…!” Whatever courage he had is disappearing fast. “…take care…” Dear god almighty does Sam have to do that with his face? “…of it.”

Sam is smiling like the actual sun. And Bucky is burning to a crisp under a magnifying glass.

Sam leans back with a satisfied “hrmph.” He drops Bucky’s hand and stands up. Bucky involuntarily leans into the empty space like Sam left some kind of gravitational pull. What the fuck just happened? Bucky looks at Alpine. The rabbit is sitting on her hind legs beside him, looking up at him curiously and twitching her nose.

“So what’s for dinner? Take-out again?” If it could reach, Bucky’s jaw would drop to the floor. Sam looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“That’s it?!!”

“What’s it? You forget to order a pizza or somethin?” Sam takes a few steps toward the kitchen and Bucky jumps off the couch.

“Sam. I hate you.”

“Wow. That hurts, Bucky. I thought my heart was important to you.”

“I—!” Bucky flails his arms around. Sam is grinning in that stupidly adorable irresistible way of his. The situation is hopeless. How is Bucky supposed to think when Sam is being this cute? And now he knows that Bucky wants to live with him? Disastrous. “I made you dinner!”

Sam looks surprised, maybe even a little touched. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” Bucky pushes past him on his way into the kitchen, overly aware of how their shoulders brush. Bucky pulls the casserole out of the fridge and transfers it to the pre-heated oven. Now that he’s not looking at Sam, the thought of meeting his gaze again makes Bucky feel queasy. Instead he decides to lean over the oven and stare at its digital clock. A perfect excuse to avoid those obnoxiously beautiful brown eyes for the next 20 minutes.

“What is it?”

“Casserole.”

Sam laughs. “You realize there’s like a million different kinds of casseroles, right?”

“Macaroni,” Bucky mumbles.

“Sounds promising. You’ve got beer somewhere?” Bucky mumbles some more because how can he admit now that he went searching for Sam’s favorite hard lemonade that’s annoyingly hard to get in New York? He hears Sam open the fridge. Too late. “Oh my god, you found this stuff here?!” The distinct crack of a can opening punctuates Sam’s excitement. “You’re the best, man.”

Bucky could say something snarky. Really, he should at least try. But his ears are burning and so is his face and goddammit why is this happening. Sam’s silent, clearly waiting for a comeback. Bucky starts to sweat. He hears Sam come up behind him. What is breathing? Surely it’s a non-essential function. Then Sam presses himself to Bucky’s back and wraps his perfect hunky arms around his waist. Bucky’s hearts skips at least five beats when he feels Sam’s warm breath on his ear.

“You just gonna stare at the clock then, huh?”

“Ye—“ Bucky clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“Mmm, okay,” Sam hums and rests his chin on Bucky’s shoulder, obviously with no intention of showing mercy.

“What are you doing?” Bucky’s voice is much higher than he cares to admit.

“Staring with you.” Bucky swallows. He can’t do this for another 18 minutes. “You gonna cook for me when we live together?”

WHAT. Bucky’s brain is hot and spinning like a clothes dryer but it’s his thoughts that are tumbling. Yeah, he’s definitely sweating a lot now. Bucky ducks his head, not realizing that would be a terrible idea. Sam drops a kiss on the exposed back of his neck. So this is it then. This is how it ends. Bucky is going to pass out or die or both.

“How much longer can you hold your breath before it becomes a problem?” God, Sam is such a smug asshole. “I don’t wanna scrape you off the kitchen floor before dinner.”

Bucky tries to inhale slowly, but it’s shaky- of fucking course it is. “I really hate you,” is all he can manage to whisper.

“Ya know, that’s funny,” Sam purrs. Literally purrs because he clearly wants Bucky to suffer. “Cause I could swear that you actually have a huge, embarrassing, all-consuming crush on me.”

Fuck right off, Sam Wilson, you perfect fucking prick, is what Bucky thinks. But somehow, unforgivably, what he says is, “You have really beautiful eyes, Sam.”

That startles a laugh out of Sam. “Why thank you, Bucky! But it’s kinda hard to believe you really mean that from the way you’re so adamantly not looking at me.”

“You know I mean it. Always accusing me of having a staring problem.”

“Still… you could convince me.” Sam’s tone is a challenge. Fuck this.

“Sam, if I look at you, I’ll either die or have to kiss you.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Sam chuckles. “You can kiss me, but dying right now would be inconvenient.”

That’s it! Bucky turns on him. “Inconvenient? In- fucking -convenient?!”

“Well, yeah, you didn’t say how long the casserole should be in the oven for.”

“Get out of my apartment!”

“Make me!”

Bucky grabs Sam’s face in both hands and kisses him hungrily. Fuck mac-n-cheese. He’s having Sam for dinner.

#they’re idiots #and this was super fun to write #sambucky fic #bucky barnes fic #back on my gay shit #onlysambucky

36 notes · View notes

mochegato · 3 years

Text

Covert Parenting

Covert Dating Covert Romance Covert Wedding Covert Marriage Covert Pregnancy Covert Matchmaking

“Oh shit, we lost Rosie!” Jason looked around frantically, lifting up cushions and pillows and craning his neck behind the couch. “Dev, where is your sister?”

“We didn’t lose Rosie.” Marinette answered calmly, putting the last pins in her hair as she walked out of the bathroom. “She’s playing with dinosaurs in the tub. And don’t curse in front of the kids.”

Jason fell into the arm chair and breathed a sigh of relief. He suddenly lurched up, looking around frantically again. “Where did Dev go?”

“He’s hiding under the couch,” Jaime reported, not looking up from his Switch game.

“Jay!” Dev yelled at him, crawling out from under the couch. “You weren’t supposed to tell him.” He stomped back to his room. Jaime rolled his eyes and kept playing his game.

“Dev,” Jason called after him. “It’s okay, Dev.” They heard a door slam. Jason sighed and gave Jaime a disappointed look. “You know he hates when you do that.”

Jaime huffed. “You asked. I answered. I don’t know why I’m getting in trouble here.”

“Shit! Where kitty go?” Catherine waddled into the living room.

Marinette froze. Jason froze. Jaime looked up from his game with huge eyes before he curled over on himself cackling. “Oh, you’re so dead, Jase.”

Jason mock glared at him before turning to Marinette with wide innocent eyes. “That wasn’t me. I didn’t teach her that!” he defended himself pointing to Catherine.

There was nothing mock about the glare Marinette shot at Jason. She swooped over to pick up Catherine. “Catherine, Sweetie, where did you learn that word?”

Catherine perked up, “Mama!”

Marinette looked at Catherine confused for a few moments, shooting another glare at Jason’s raucous laughter. “Mama taught you what word, Sweetie?” she asked gently.

“Kitty! Mama say kitty lots.” Catherine lifted up her little hands to squish Marinette’s face. Suddenly her eyes got huge and worried. “Kitty! Where Kitty?”

“Okay, let’s look for Kitty together. But, Catherine, who taught you the other word?”

Catherine looked at her mom questioningly. “Other?”

“Yes,” Marinette started to explain. She opened her mouth to ask about ‘shit’, but quickly closed it. She didn’t want to say the word again and have Catherine keep saying it. Instead she gave Jason a dirty look and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You did this and you’re going to pay for it.”

Jason shot her a devilish smirk. “Really? Is that a promise? We getting a baby sitter tonight?”

“Eww. Guys we’re right here,” Jaime groaned, throwing his head back in disgust.

“Yeah, and how do you think Catherine got ‘right here’?” Jason shot back. “And while we’re at it, let’s talk about why your first instinct was to go dirty?” He raised an eyebrow at the young teenager.

“I’m a teenager, not one of them.” He vaguely motioned toward his adopted siblings. “I’ve heard of sex.”

“Oh good. That should make the talk Jason was going to have with you go much easier.” Marinette threw in from her crouched position peering under the couch. Jason and Jaime both paled rapidly. She looked at their expressions and started laughing. “Americans! Such a puritanical approach to sex.” She stopped to consider what she said. “Kind of surprising coming from you, Jase.” She smirked at him and grabbed his ass as she passed by him.

Jason blushed deeply. He was opening and closing his mouth quickly, trying to think of a response but all his words had disappeared. Jaime groaned again and got up. “That’s it! I’m leaving. I can’t believe you people.”

“Jaime, can you help look before you leave?” Marinette asked distractedly.

“Whatever,” he answered annoyed.

Jason watched him as he left and sighed again. Nobody told him parenting was 90% sighing, though he supposed he probably should have figured that out from observing Bruce. He turned his attention to the task at hand and started pulling apart cushions again. If Catherine didn’t have her Kitty, nobody would have any peace and they definitely were going to have trouble getting ready on time, which was going to put everyone in a bad mood. “When’s the last time we saw it?”

Marinette sighed, scrunching her face in concentration trying to run through their schedule yesterday. “The last I remember was at the fittings with the boys.”

Jason nodded. “Okay, so maybe it’s at the studio?”

“Maybe… I don’t think so but… maybe at the manor?” She worried her lower lip trying to put the pieces together. “Probably not considered acceptable to use Lucky Charm, huh?” She gave him a pleading look.

Jason chuckled but shook his head. “Definitely seems like something Tikki would frown upon.” He shot a look over to the bookshelf and caught Tikki’s exasperated look. “Literally,” he chuckled.

“Did we leave it in the car?” she asked desperately.

Jason reached over and put his hands on Marinette’s shoulders to ground her. “Mari, we will find it. It might just take a little bit of teamwork. Why don’t we have Stephanie swing by the Studio on her way to the manor? And we’ll have someone check the manor. And I’ll look in the car in a minute after we look around here a bit more. Okay?”

Marinette looked in his eyes and took a deep breath. After a few seconds she calmed down and nodded at him. “Right. Okay. Right. Teamwork. It has to be somewhere.” He smiled and kissed her forehead. “We just need to find it well before the ceremony because otherwise she won’t take a nap and there’s no way we’ll get her in her dress or walk down the aisle or smile for pictures, let alone be quiet through the ceremony. And then Adrien and Duke are going to be so upset we ruined their special day and never speak to us again.”

Jason looked at her skeptically. “How much of that do you think will actually happen.”

Marinette quirked her head to the side and stared at the ceiling as she thought it through. “Everything up to Adrien and Duke being upset. Maybe just frustrated.”

Jason nodded with a smile. Marinette still spiraled occasionally, but she had gotten much better at pulling herself out of it over the past few years. Preparations for the wedding had taken its toll on her emotions though. The past few weeks as the wedding approached, she’d been significantly more emotional than usual, but not nearly as bad as the grooms. Jason shuddered thinking about the spiral Duke had gone into when the flowers Adrien wanted weren’t going to be available or the panic Adrien had felt when the customized ring he ordered got held up.

“She won’t disrupt the service,” he assured her. “I promise you. We won’t let her.” Marinette gave him a skeptical look. “I’m just saying chloroform is a thing,” Jason answered with a smirk. “And there’s plenty in the manor.”

Marinette rolled her eyes but laughed in spite of herself until she felt a hug on her leg. “Find Kitty?” Catherine asked hopefully.

Marinette sighed and patted Catherine’s back. “Hey Jaime and Dev, can you guys look for Kitty in your rooms, please?” She called back.

“It isn’t in my room,” Dev answered, finally coming back to the living room.

“I don’t know where the stupid cat is,” Jaime yelled back. Marinette and Jason looked back toward his room with matching surprised faces.

Catherine’s face scrunched up and her mouth opened wide as she started crying loudly. She reached up for Marinette to pick her up. Marinette frowned sympathetically at her and picked her up, patting her back and rocking her. “Jay said Kitty stupid,” she repeated over and over again between sobs.

“I know. I’m sorry, baby. Jay is upset right now. He doesn’t mean it,” Marinette cooed at her.

“Jay said Kitty stupid,” Catherine repeated again like she hadn’t heard Marinette at all.

“Why is Kit Cat crying?” Rosie asked wandering over from the bathroom.

Marinette gave Jason a pointed look and gestured with her head toward Jaime’s room. Jason sighed and nodded. He kissed Catherine on the head, picked Rosie up with another kiss on the head, and placed her on the couch next to where Marinette and Catherine had just sat, before he made his way to Jaime’s room. Marinette patted the sofa on the other side of her for Dev. Dev rolled his eyes but cuddled up to Catherine.

“Catherine feels sad because someone used not nice words about Kitty,” Marinette explained to Rosie.

Rosie nodded at the explanation. She leaned in close to Catherine and added herself to the hug. “I like Kitty, Kit Cat.”

Catherine sniffled but looked over to Rosie with a small smile. “Thank you, Rosie. That was really nice to try to help your sister,” Marinette whispered to her.

<><><><><>

“You want to talk about what just happened?” Jason asked, leaning cross armed against Jaime and Catherine’s bedroom door frame.

“Your daughter lost her stupid stuffed animal and now we’re all stopping what we were doing to find it.” Jaime grunted without looking up.

“Is that what you think happened?” Jason asked delicately.

“That’s what I know happened,” he sneered.

“Okay, first your words really hurt your brother and your sister. Dev trusts you when he doesn’t trust almost anyone. And Catherine looks up to you like a hero. You’re her big brother. You mean the world to her and you called her favorite thing stupid.” Jaime kept looking down, refusing to make eye contact with Jason. “Second, we didn’t make you stop doing what you were doing. We asked you to help your sister feel better. Third, we didn’t choose her happiness over yours. Your happiness is just as important as hers.”

Jaime looked up at Jason shocked. “I didn’t… I didn’t say you did.”

“No,” Jason conceded, “but you thought it and I needed you to know. You are just as important to us. I know it seems like the littler kids get more attention, and they probably do because they need more watching. They can’t do as much for themselves as you can. But, that doesn’t mean we value them more than you.”

“Yeah,” Jaime scoffed looking down again. “You value me more than your blood daughter.”

“You need to spend less time with Damian.” Jason shook his head. “You think Bruce loves Dick or Tim less than Damian?”

Jaime thought about it and finally decided he didn’t. He looked up at Jason, still keeping his head down. “Yeah, that’s right.” Jason nodded at him. “Can I come in?”

Jaime shrugged but moved to make room for him on the bed. Jason plopped on the bed next to him. “Adopted isn’t a synonym for lesser. We love you. We aren’t going anywhere and neither are you. You’re ours. We chose you. We wanted you because of who you are; your head and your heart. That won’t change. You’ll change. Probably a lot. But our love won’t. Even when you go through your asshole period, which, if you’re like me is going to last years.”

“So how long has your phase been going on for now?” Jaime asked with a smirk.

“Oi! Watch it smartass,” Jason laughed pulling him into a hug. “But we’re still going to love you, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay. Whatever,” Jaime answered in poorly disguised apathy and hugged him back.

<><><><><>

“Please God tell me you found Kitty,” Jason begged Alfred in a desperate whisper.

Alfred shook his head sadly. “Sorry Master Jason, we were not able to find it.”

Jason groaned silently. Catherine had been an emotional mess all day because of that damn stuffed animal. No other stuffed animal would do. It had to be that stuffed cat. Not just any stuffed cat. That damned cat.

Stephanie bounded up behind him and jumped on his back holding up Kitty in front of him. “Who’s your favorite sister ever?”

“You found it!” he exclaimed, the relief evident on his face. He grabbed the stuffed animal like it was an immortality elixir.

“No. But I did find a new one. They call it a ‘spare’ apparently, according to the cashier anyway. Always have a spare for their favorite stuffed animal or blanket, just in case.” She shrugged at him.

Jason stared at her incredulously. “God I hope she doesn’t notice.” He started speed walking to Marinette and the kids. He turned as he walked out of the room. “You! You’re the favorite currently.” She winked and shot finger guns at him. Favorite was hard to obtain with Adrien and Dick around.

“Look what Aunt Stephanie found!” He grinned victoriously as he joined his family. He showed the stuffed animal to Catherine who grabbed it quickly and hugged it tight. “Kitty!”

Marinette eyed the stuffed animal and gave Jason a questioning look. He shrugged and held a finger up to his lips.

“Ah, you’ve arrived.” Damian walked down the stairs seemingly to pass through unaware of their presence, but Marinette could see the glint in his eyes when he saw the kids.

“Uncle Damian!” Dev, Rosie, and Catherine called out excitedly. Dev and Rosie ran to give him a hug, which he permitted with a roll of his eyes but a smile on his face.

“Good afternoon, Todd spawns.” He patted them on their heads. “I found this last night and I thought Catherine might like to have it back.” He held up Kitty for her.

“Damian, you found it!” Marinette exclaimed excitedly. “Thank you so much! Catherine what do you say?”

“Thank you,” Catherine said dutifully, still staring at the stuffed animals in her hand. “Two Kittys, Mama!”

Marinette smiled at her. “Yep, two Kittys now. Isn’t that great?”

Catherine scrunched her face staring at the new stuffed animal. She held it out away from her. “Not Kitty.”

Damian smirked at her. “That’s right. It’s a usurper Kitty,” he mock sneered at the stuffed animal.

“’Super Kitty,” Catherine tried to imitate his sneer and dropped the usurper Kitty.

Damian laughed loudly and reached out to ruffle her hair. His wrist was caught by Marinette before he could make contact, “You mess up her hair before the wedding and you’ll lose the ability to use that arm for a week,” she hissed at him. Damian rolled his eyes but retracted his hand.

“Hey Catherine?” Jaime came up beside her. Catherine hid her face in Marinette’s chest. She hadn’t spoken to Jaime since the earlier incident. “Can I keep Super Kitty?” he asked picking up the duplicate Kitty and hugging it to his chest. “I would really like to have matching Kittys.”

Catherine perked up immediately and started bouncing in Marinette’s arms. “Matchy matchy! Yay. Look Mama. Jay Kitty and Kitty Cat Kitty.”

Marinette looked over to Jaime with a huge smile and back to Catherine. “Yes you do. That is so cool!”

“If you are ready, I can show you where we are supposed go until the wedding,” Damian offered.

“We’ll be right there if you can take the kids, please,” Marinette asked.

“Of course,” Damian nodded to them and reached out to take Catherine’s hand.

Catherine wiggled out of Marinette’s hold and onto the floor to meet him. Jaime bumped affectionately into Dev’s shoulder and took Rosie’s hand as they started following Damian.

“Oh, Jaime?” Marinette called after him. He turned back to her with a curious gaze. She smiled at him and walked over to hug him. “I’m proud of you for everything you do and try to do.” She gave him a kiss on the head.

He looked up at her with watery eyes. “Yeah, okay,” he said shakily.

“Come on Jay,” Rosie urged him, pulling him to follow Damian like the rest of the kids were. They were trailing after him like ducklings, making Marinette smile at the image. Jason came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her close. “Okay we got rid of them, let’s find a bedroom,” he whispered in her ear.

She giggled and snuggled further into his embrace. “Did you ask him to do that when you talked to him?”

“Nope,” Jason denied. “I talked about how much the other kids look up to him and how much we love him.” He smirked. “Ninja parenting. You think I’m working on one issue with one kid, but really I’m working on all the issues with all of them. Wahahaha. And you never even saw me coming.”

Marinette almost started crying from laughing so hard. When her laughter died down, she turned in his arms and cupped his face stroking his cheek. She pulled him down to give him a slow, lingering kiss. She pulled away slightly, taking a beat before opening her eyes to look at him lovingly through her lashes. “You’re so amazing.”

He preened at her praise and smiled softly at her. He pulled her closer to kiss her again. “Just trying to live up to you. I love you so much.”

“Kit Cat come back!” They heard Rosie yell from down the hallway.

Marinette laughed but Jason gave an exasperated sigh. “I can’t believe that nickname stuck. We should have nipped that in the bud immediately.”

She hummed noncommittally. “You could have tried, but all their nicknames have stuck; Rosebud, Devolution, MJB. Maybe you’ll have better luck with this one, but now that they’re going to be a team on it, it’s going to be even harder to stop.”

“Oh yea of little faith.” He grinned at her until he processed her words and his smile dropped. “This one?” He looked down at her belly and back up to her eyes. She grinned brightly at him and nodded. His eyes lit up and he gently laid his hand on her belly, a gentle, reverent smile formed on his lips. “We’re going to have another baby. The kids are going to be so excited.”

“Until this little one starts stealing toys,” she giggled before sighing. “And there are fights over toys and attention and space and no sleep and God, the morning sickness…”

“Yeah,” he gently pulled her into his chest and rested his head on hers. “But your boobs are going to get so big.”

She pulled back to see his mischievous smile and slapped him playfully with a roll of her eyes. “We’ll figure it out together,” he whispered confidently touching his forehead to hers and kissed her gentle and loving.

“As a family,” she nodded in agreement. “We can take on anything.”

Notes:

Again… mostly just an excuse to write daddy Jason. So I’m thinking Jaime 13, Dev 8, Rosie 5, and Catherine 2. Dev and Rosie are blood siblings and were adopted together. And Jaime and Catherine share a room because Dev and Rosie felt safer sharing a room when they were first adopted. MJB stands for Mini Jay Bird.

#maribat #jasonette #Covert Jasonette #Daddy Jason

94 notes · View notes

theheartsmistakes · 3 years

Text

The Last Night Part XXVII

At some point, Lucie must have fallen asleep lying atop of the dusty blankets with the canopy swaying over her head and the sound of the wind blowing outside. She’d woken with a start at the groan of the door on its hinges and Belial standing at the foot of the bed.

The color had returned to his face, his hair was neatly combed back, dark like his eyes, and the velvet exterior of his coat and matching trousers. He fiddled with the silver cuff links on his wrists and grinned a Cheshire smile.

“You look well-rested,” said Lucie, fixing her wrinkled skirts. “I suppose it’s time then.”

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Does it matter if I am or not?” said Lucie, standing up from the bed and walking towards him, all while doing her best not to show any ounce of fear.

Belial’s eyes flickered over her face. “Follow me, please.” He turned on his heels and started down the hallway. After a moment and a few deep breaths, Lucie set out after him.

“For this to work, I need you to surrender wholly and completely to me,” said Belial as they walked. He turned to the left where another dark staircase ascended. The fact that he didn’t just snap his fingers or grab Lucie and appear in the room they were headed towards told Lucie that perhaps he was preserving his strength. Holding every last bit of it for whatever it was that he planned to do with her, this convergence or joining that he planned.

In truth, she’d been reserving as much strength as she could as well. She still wasn’t sure exactly how her plan would work, but somehow, it had to. From reading books of old, the legends, and the myths that her father and mother would bring to life, she recalled the gallant heroes in their times of desperation and their times of absolute weakness and what they would cling to. If only she could talk to her parents one more time if only she could hear their words of wisdom and listen to it for once. If only she could fold herself into their embrace and absorb their strength which they’d always given to their children so freely.

What would they say to her? What tether would they offer her? What could she say back to them?

I’m sorry I never told you, she thought. I was ashamed and I didn’t want it to be one more thing that mother had to feel guilty of or papa to feel he needed to protect.

They’d forgive her, she knew they would. Perhaps there would be time for forgiveness. Yes, she had to believe that she’d see them again.

They came to a door at the end of the winding staircase which opened on its own upon Belial’s presence. The room was empty of furniture and the roof looked the inside of a lighthouse with windows circling the perimeter. The blood-red sky leaked into the room illuminated the dust particles in the air. In the center of the room, carved into the black wood, were two circles overlapping so there were two sides and a sliver in the middle.

Fear gripped her throat and settled into her stomach like a stone. Tears sprang to her eyes as she bit down on her lip to keep it from trembling.

“Don’t be afraid, child,” said Belial. “It will all be over soon. I will have your body to occupy the world as I wish, and you will be a distant shadow, completely unaware, tucked away like a memory long forgotten.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I am going to take back what was taken from me a long time ago,” said Belial, and his hands drew into fists at his sides. “Come, the time is near.”

“My family,” said Lucie, as the tears spilled from her eyes. “What will you do with my family?”

“All the Nephilim must die, unfortunately,” said Belial. “Save for your mother and brother who have a spark of my blood still alive in their veins. I’ll offer them a chance to reign by my side.”

“They’ll never do it,” said Lucie. “They’ll fight you to their death.”

Belial grinned as he stood in the center of the left circle. “I wouldn’t be so sure. For fighting me means that they’ll be fighting you and while we are tethered, my death means your death. One cannot live without the other and so one shall not die without the other. If they believe that there is even just a breath of a chance that you are still alive, they’ll do whatever it takes to free you. But they won’t be able to.”

Lucie moved back a step towards the door. “And if I don’t, if I refuse?”

“I will kill your precious Cordelia,” said Belial. “You see when she was with me, I reached into her mind and took away her memories so that she wouldn’t remember that I injected her bloodstream with an undetectable poison that responds to my command and my command only. With just a snap of my fingers, Cordelia will be dead. Would you like for me to demonstrate?” With a wave of his hand, a picture appeared in a cloud of smoke of Cordelia sitting in the drawing-room of the estate with James beside her. They were staring at the fire together, hand entwined. The image zoomed into Cordelia her eyes red-rimmed and solemn.

“No,” cried Lucie. “No, please don’t. I don’t need a demonstration.”

Belial sneered and flicked his wrist.

Cordelia’s head snapped back, her mouth open as she gaped at the ceiling for air. James lunged from the sofa to crouch over her, holding her face in his hands. Cordelia’s face began to turn bright red as foam spilled from her lips.

“STOP!” cried Lucie. “STOP IT, PLEASE!”

“You won’t question me anymore?”

Lucie watched as James cried for someone to come help and Cordelia’s body began to convulse.

“It won’t just stop at Cordelia,” said Belial. “For every time that you deny me, I will make someone you love suffer. Say it and Cordelia and James can have their final moments together in peace or she can continue to suffer.”

“Stop!” begged Lucie. “I’ll listen, I’ll behave. I’ll do what you say, just please, don’t kill her.”

The image disappeared with another wave of Belial’s hand. “What does it matter if she dies now or later?”

Lucie shook with rage. She thought she felt the cool whisper of something brush up against her hand, across her palm, but she was too furious to notice.

And then she thought of it, what the ghost might have been trying to say. It seemed so obvious all of a sudden, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. Perhaps because it was what she feared most of all.

She might not be able to defeat Belial in battle, but she could stop him. She could take away the one thing he needed to enact his plan.

She could remove herself.

But with what and how? She was out of time and with no weapons. There wasn’t even a nail she could pull out from the floorboards and all of her hairpins had spilled out at the Lightwood’s. She had nothing except the windows. The closest one to her was six feet to her left. There might be enough time for her to run and crash through the glass and fall to her death before Belial caught her. She feared what he might do as punishment if she didn’t make it, however.

You know what to do, a voice whispered in her mind.

I don’t, she thought. I don’t know what to do. Please help me.

The voice went quiet again and Lucie almost screamed in rage.

“Come,” said Belial and stepped into the center of the two circles.

Lucie gasped as she pulled by an invisible hand towards the center of the room. She tried to drag her feet but the force was too strong. Her heels scraped across the floor as she dragged and deposited in front of Belial.

“I’ve waited a long time for you, Lucie,” said Belial and picked up her hands in his. “It’s almost over. You won’t remember a thing, I promise. You must step willingly into the center of the circle. It won’t work unless you do.”

Tears poured unabridged from Lucie’s eyes. She slammed them shut and pictured her mother, gray eyes, and mousy brown hair.

Her Da with the same mischievous grin as her own.

James and his stupid face, the first friend she’d ever known.

Cordelia, a friend, and a sister.

She thought of Jesse and all the things she never got to tell him. She wished she could have told him how she truly felt even if he didn’t feel the same.

Fight, Lucie, rang the voice again. You must fight.

She opened her eyes and stepped forward.

(A/N: As promised, part XXVII for your reading pleasure. Next chapter is coming out on Sunday 1/24. Possibly the finale, there might be one more. We shall see how much I get done. As always, thank you so much for reading, commenting, liking, and reblogging. You guys are simply the best.)

#the last night fanfiction #The Last Night #the last hours #chain of gold #Chain of Iron #chain of gold fanfic #cassandra clare #the shadowhunter chronicles #jordelia fanfiction #james x cordelia #james and Cordelia #Lucie x Jesse #lucie herondale #belial

38 notes · View notes

missserpentia-fae · 4 years

Text

Take Care of Them

Warning: Hmm..? If you’re touchy on religion, I’d advise you to not continue reading. (I wrote this for fun)

If any of the characters are OC, tell me so I can try and adjust it.

Takes place after Lesson 18 but before Lesson 19

Pairings: Obey me boys x MC/Reader

Summary: God talking to MC in a dream or such about the brothers

Part 1-7

Chapter 8

The human jerked awake and looked around their room, their eyes landing on the envelope on their bedside table. Oddly enough, there seemed to be something else peeking out from underneath the envelope. They reached for whatever was hiding underneath the envelope and took notice that it was some kind of portrait.

Tears prickled at the corner of their eyes as they stared at the portrait. It was a picture of the six brothers when they were angels. The human let out a wet sob, their vision blurring as they stared at Mammon tackling someone that looked vaguely like Lucifer. Lucifer looked annoyed but they could see the tenderness in his green eyes as he stared at his younger brother. Asmo and Levi were sitting back to back. Levi had his eyes closed and his head was tilted back against Asmo’s shoulder, his purple hair was slicked back with a couple strands falling against his forehead. Asmo was staring off at Beel and Belphie with a large grin on his ethereal face. Beel was sitting on the ground while his younger twin brother was laying on his side beside him, one of his eyes open as he stared fondly at a woman MC did not recognize.

The woman had golden-brown skin and seemed to radiate happiness. She had long wavy white hair similar to Mammon’s that had hints of orange hiding in the white. Her hair framed her head like a halo and her purple eyes were glinting with delight. She wore a beautiful long tunic with no sleeves and a pair of leggings, as well as a pair of light brown lace-up shoes. Her medium sized dove-like slim white wings hung low on her back. The woman was turned towards Lucifer and Mammon, laughing heartily at the two.

This must be the eighth sibling, my ancestor, Lilith. MC mused as they went back to observing the brothers.

Out of the seven brothers, Lucifer looked the most different. Instead of having his black hair which faded into grey, his hair was platinum blond which was lighter than Satan’s yellow hair and his eyes were green instead of its now red color. Belphie’s hair also was different having interchanged while he was still an angel, the roots were white which bled into black.

The human turned the picture over and saw purple script write itself on the back of the portrait.

Pure soul,

I hope you enjoy this picture. It was one of my precious possessions but I wish to give it to you. I have a feeling that you might appreciate it more than I ever could. Cherish and keep it safe.

Camael, Symbol of Charity

MC hugged the picture to their chest, tears pouring out their eyes and down their cheeks as they choked on their sobs. They lifted the picture to their lips and pressed a light kiss against the image. They hid the picture in their drawer and took the envelope in their hands. They wiped their tears away with the back of their hand as they broke the seal of the envelope.

A smile replaced the frown on their lips as they read stories about Mammon, all about his mischievous ways and his interactions with his siblings especially Lucifer. They were surprised to read that Mammon was respected and loved by his siblings when he was still in the Celestial Realm and he seemed to be so generous towards everyone, almost always putting others before himself. They noticed that Mammon and Lucifer seemed to get along despite Lucifer acting like he didn’t like Mammon. Their smile slowly disappeared as the stories took a turn for the worst the closer it got to the Celestial War. Tears built up in the corner of their eyes when they read Mammon’s determination and contentment to stay by his older brother’s side despite not knowing what would happen to them after the war.

They watched as He wrote a small message for them once again at the end of the letter.

My child,

Stay on guard. Again, continue finding ways to unlock your angelic heritage and practice using my virtue’s powers. I see that Camael gave you a gift. If you wish, I can tell you about Lilith as well so you know more about your ancestor. I can tell you’re hurting for my fallen sons and while I cannot do anything anymore for them, I hope that I can provide you some comfort by telling you about them an in extension, Lilith.

God

Tears escaped once again before they put the envelope away with the rest of the other letters. They got ready, trying their best to hide the evidence of their breakdown before they left their room. They headed in the direction of the dining room, their head hung low as they entered the room. The chatter amongst the brothers seemed to die down, almost like they knew in an instant that something was wrong with their human, as MC sat down in their seat, slowly piling whatever food was leftover that Beel didn’t manage to get onto their own plate.

“Normie?” Levi called out but it seemed that the human didn’t hear him. The brothers shared worried glances with each other before Belphie leaned over and nudged them. “Oh, sorry. Were you guys talking to me?” They were startled, looking up from their food to see the demons staring at them with concern.

“You okay?” They turned to look at Beel who had his mouth stuffed full. “You…You seem down.” He swallowed before he spoke.

“Darling, have you been crying? Your eyes are swollen.” Asmo questioned, grabbing hold of their chin to turn their head to look at them. MC stared into the fifth brother's alluring peach eyes, tears swimming in the corner of their eyes.

They burst into tears which caused the brothers to panic. Just seeing the brothers worrying over them made them think about how unfair everything was. They didn’t deserve to be exiled from the Celestial Realm especially since it was all for their younger sister, a sister that they couldn’t save and lost because of the war. Just thinking about it made them angry.

They were pulled away from their angry thoughts when they felt a thumb brushing away their tears. They looked up to see a blurry vision of yellow in front of them before Satan’s calming voice cut through their daze, “Why are you angry? I can feel the rage building up in you.”

“I…I…” MC hiccupped, their voice getting stuck in their throat before they threw their arms over Satan’s shoulders. They buried their face into his chest as they screamed their anger and sadness away, their screams muffled by the blond’s uniformed chest but it didn’t stop the brothers’ heart from breaking when they heard the pain in the human’s cries. Satan ran his fingers through their hair, rubbing their head slightly and whispered, “Draw in that anger. Don’t let it control you.”

“I-I’m so s-sorry.” The human sobbed, shaking their head when the brothers tried to get them to explain the reason for their sudden outburst.

They felt a calming pulse coming from their hand and they shifted their blurry gaze to their hand. They saw the two rings on their left hand beating, sending comforting waves towards them. It was like Uriel and Raphael knew they were distressed and was trying their best to comfort them since they couldn’t be there with them. They slowly started to calm down, their anger and sadness dissipating as they shakily took a deep breath in.

They backed away from Satan, their eyes lowered as they whispered with a crackily tone, “I’m sorry guys.”

“What happened darling?” Asmo cooed, standing in front of them as he held their hand. They shook their head, removing their hand from the demon's grip and whispered, “It’s nothing. Just a bad dream.”

They stayed silent for most of the day, not acknowledging the concerned looks that the brothers were shooting them. At the end of the school day, they caught up to Lucifer who was, surprisingly, by himself and asked softly, almost nervously, “Lucifer, is it okay if I go visit Simeon at Purgatory Hall? There’s something that has been bothering me and I wish to talk to him about it.”

Lucifer looked like he didn’t want to allow it but took notice of the pleading look in his human’s eyes. He sighed before nodding, “Okay. Make sure you’re back at the house before curfew.”

“Thank you Lucifer.” MC looked around to see if there were any students loitering around, seeing that they were none around. They threw their arms around Lucifer’s waist, their head resting against his chest. “I’ll be back soon. Thank you so much. Tell the others where I am and don’t let Mammon come get me unless it’s past curfew.”

The human detached themself from the eldest brother before Lucifer could process the sudden hug and ran off, waving at the second strongest demon in the Devildom.

Lucifer shook his head staring after MC with enamor in his gaze before they turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.

Part 9

134 notes · View notes

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

Text

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I

Chapter 10- The White Violin Part 1

Summary: Vanya’s finally come to realize her full power, taking the Academy with her. Now it’s up to the Hargreeves siblings and you, to find and stop her from causing the apocalypse. Unfortunately you run into a bit of trouble along the way.

Masterlist- where all the other chapters are⚔️

Warning: Violence, Y/N is a stabby all around badass so it gets bloody

Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes @winterboobear11

Suddenly another wave of energy seems to pulse through the house, shaking the very foundation. Your eyes snap up to the sound of crumbling paint and pieces of the ceiling starting to crack and actively deteriorate. In an instant you’ve shot to your feet, turning your head to the upstairs balcony when you hear footsteps running on the wooden floor. You can hear Klaus and Diego calling out for Grace, but their shouting is soon silenced by more rubble clattering to the ground, shaking the house once again.

You race up the stairs to the second floor balcony where you just heard the distinct voices of Klaus and Diego. But by the time you get up there, both of them have disappeared. You look around the area in confusion, as more and more of the building cracks and breaks around you. Without warning a giant chuck of ceiling breaks free from the rest of its placement, hurling itself down at you. You dodge it, sliding on the tiled floor in the process. When another chunk falls down on your shoulder, knocking you harshly onto the ground, fortunately when your face is temporarily pressed to the wooden floorboards. You catch the scent of Diego and Klaus, their trail leading out to an open window. That’s now blocked by flaming debris of wood and whatever else. Dammit.

Your eyes scan the wall, finding another window you make a break for it, throwing your arm in front of your face to better prepare for impact. A moment later you feel a pressure and then tiny shards of glass flying all around you, as you jump out the window. For a few seconds you blissfully free-fall in the cool night air, before the hard concrete gives you a rude awakening. Darkness. When you open your eyes about 10 seconds later, you gasp in pain as your hip, rip-cage, and the left side of your skull moves around to fall back into its original placement. You watch as your previously broken arm, fuses back into place with a distinctly gory bob sound. With no time to spare you jump to your feet, dodging more pieces of the dying Academy.

When you make it round the corner, the whole entirety of the Academy has been reduced to rubble and flames. “First mom. Now Pogo. Where the hell his Y/N?!” Shouts Diego on the verge of tears. You run through the fallen bricks to the sound of his voice, finally spotting everyone, still alive and well, for the most part. “Diego!” You scream, racing over to him, he looks up at you with a downcast face before it turns into a relieved frown.

A second later, Five is jumping over a destroyed couch, “Guys! This is it. The apocalypse is still on. The world ends today.” He announces quickly, getting closer to the five of you, who all stare at him in troubled confusion. “I thought you said it was over.” Wonders Luther. Five starts to unfold a newspaper, “I was wrong, okay? This newspaper, I found it in the future the day I got stuck. The headline hasn’t changed.” He explains wide eyed.

“No, that doesn’t mean anything. The time could’ve been altered since that newspaper came out this morning.” Diego says, denying everything Five is telling you guys, not wanting to believe in the fact that the world just might end after all.

“You’re not listening to me. When I found it, I assumed this place came down along with everything else. But here we are. The Moon’s still shining, the Earth is still in one piece, but not the Academy.” Klaus suddenly snatches the crinkled newspaper from Five’s hand, “I’m confused.” He states baffled, Five furrows his brows in frustration, “Then listen to me, you idiot! Vanya destroys the Academy before the apocalypse. I thought Harold Jenkins was the cause, but he was just the fuse. Vanya is the bomb.” He exclaims pausing for a moment to let the information sink in, “Vanya causes the apocalypse.”

Right after Five finishes laying down the hard truth about Vanya and the apocalypse, you look up to hear the chopping of a helicopters blades. A giant spotlight is then intrusively beaming on all of you. “We have to find Vanya. Regroup at the Super Star. Go!” Shouts Luther over the blaring noise, you don’t have to think twice, as you grab Diego’s hand. The two of you bolting for the nearby bowling alley.

——

All of you stand around a table at the bowling alley, the atmosphere is tense, everyone's emotions all over the place as to what just occurred and what to do next. Luther stares at the floor with a hard and concentrated expression, as you look up to observe his face from your spot next to Diego. You suddenly narrow your eyes at him, your jaw clenching in growing irritation. Diego’s gaze snaps over to your sudden tenseness, his eyebrows rising in suspicion when your fists start to clench.

“You drugged me you dick!” You bitterly snap at Luther, everyone’s faces go from yours to Luther’s rightfully wide eyed one. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing appears to come out as he just stands there awkwardly avoiding everyone’s prying eyes. You let out an agitated snort, standing up from your seat next to Diego, Luther takes a step back while studying your hostile movements.

“I have half a mind to slap the ever present dumbass out of you, but I can’t promise that I’ll be able to stop myself after that.” You state through clenched teeth, pausing for a moment to collect yourself from your rising anger.

“I..uh...Y/N, I didn’t kn..”

“No! Shut up, your speaking privileges have been revoked, so listen here. First you put Vanya in a goddamn cage, then you forcefully stop everyone from getting her out, and then when I try to help her...you fucking drug me. Were you wacked to many times on your head as a child, because if you can’t find your common sense I’ll frickin’ help you find it.” You aggressively state at a visibly sweating Luther, he takes another small step back, honestly afraid that you might indeed hold true to your word. “I don’t know what kinda thought process you had when you were thinking that any of this was a good idea, but clearly it has given us a one way ride into the fucking apocalypse and I did not ask you to share your tickets.” Diego suddenly reaches up to grip your left arm before you’re able to move out of reach and bitch-slap the stupid right out of Luther. Your head quickly turns to look down at Diego, “I’m not...I’m not going to hurt him D, at least not yet.” You tell him, whispering the last part with quiet malice. Diego sends you a sympathetic nod, still hurting from the destructive and violent demise of Grace.

“I know, and you have every right to be angry, as do the rest of us. But, Y/N this isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Your brows furrow in frustration as you anxiously bite your lip. Slightly taken aback by Diego’s ability to keep his shit together, well at least for the time being. You still have no idea that not even ten minutes ago he was almost in tears when he couldn’t find you in the rubble of the fallen Umbrella Academy.

You let out a tired sigh, looking down at the floor for a second before bringing your troubled gaze back up to a distraught Luther. “You’re lucky Diego’s here.” You warn him with a glare as you sit down next to Diego once again, “I’d throw a bowling ball right at your fucking face.” You growl at him, crossing your arms and legs in annoyance while leaning into Diego’s side. He puts a gloved hand on your thigh in an act of earnest comfort, your tenseness falters ever so lightly as you scowl at the dirty bowling alley floor. The others keep to themselves, everyone shrinking into their own worlds to think for a couple minutes. While you continue to lean into Diego’s warm side and brood like a troubled lighthouse keeper waiting for her husband to come back from the sea. The atmosphere between the six of you still considerably awkward and stressed.

“Look, I hate to be the one to say this, but everyone needs to prepare.” Carefully starts Luther, making up a new plan on the spot, as all of your heads turn to look at him.

“For what?” Asks Diego.

“To do whatever it takes to stop Vanya.” Allison wacks Luther on the chest before he can finish, he looks at her offended, “We may not have a choice Allison.” He snaps without any real anger towards her. “Bullshit. There’s always options.” Adds Diego, sitting opposite of Luther in a bowling alley chair.

“Yeah, like what?” Grumbles Five, Diego looks down for a second to think, “I don’t know?” You roll your eyes, no one is getting anywhere fast at this rate. “Whatever we happen to decide in the next three years. We need to find Vanya.” You tell them, standing up from your chair and crossing your arms, trying to think of something that could work.

“Or...here. Look at this.” Says Klaus, opening up the newspaper he’s been reading, wider for everyone to see, you all crowd around him. “That’s right. Her concert is tonight.” Says Diego, referring to the obvious newspaper ad, a big colored picture of Vanya with her violin, as well as the time and place of the concert.

You hear footsteps approaching from behind, “Hello. I hate to intrude, but my manager says if you’re not here to bowl, you gotta leave.” Says the bowling alley employee, a tad bit passive aggressively if you’re being honest.

“Who’s turn?” You deadpan, as Luther grabs a ball, chucking it across the lanes, evidently making a lucky strike. The lady turns around to leave, unsure of how to respond to that.

Allison quickly scribbles down something in her notes. She’s our sister. “We’re the only ones capable of stopping this. We have a responsibility to Dad.” States Luther, of course he’d bring Reginald into this.

“To Dad? I’ve heard enough about...” Diego snaps as Luther stands up, interrupting him, “He sacrificed everything to bring us back together.”

You want to argue against him, but oddly enough, he’s right. “I’m with Luther on this one. We can’t give her a chance to fight back. There are billions of lives at stake. We’re past trying to save just one.” Five tells all of you, it’s a terrible and tragic thing to hear, but this is the whole world or Vanya. No one ever said the right decision would be the easiest one.

“Hey, you know, guys, uh...maybe I could help.” Klaus randomly announces, Luther jumping at the chance to turn him down, “Now is not the time Klaus.” He says sternly, not wanting to deal with Klaus’ usual nonsense. “Let him finish.” Retorts Diego, waving Luther off. “He saved my life today.” Finishes Diego, not what you thought he would say, clearly neither did Luther, who questions Klaus about it.

“Yeah, yeah I did....take credit for it. In fact, the real hero...was Ben.” All of you stare at Klaus doubtful, oddly enough you could have swore you heard a muffled reply to Klaus’ rambling. What the? You haven’t been able to hear Ben’s ghost since before Klaus’ addictions muddied up the connection to much, considering your senses are only able to hear Ben when Klaus is near. He’s literally a human Ouija board you swear.

“Today...listen. Today, he punched me in the face. And earlier at the house, he was the one who saved Diego’s life, not me.” Explains Klaus, he’s not lying, you’re truly intrigued now more then ever.

“You are unbelievable, Klaus.” Complains Luther, dumbfounded.

“You want proof, is that it? All right. I’ll give you proof.” Klaus then picks up a pink bowling ball, holding it in his two hands, getting ready to throw it, “All right, it’s showtime, baby. Catch!” He exclaims at the nearby empty space between Allison and a rack of bowling balls.

He throws the ball, it falling right past Allison as it makes a loud thud when it hits the floor. Luther is not amused one bit by Klaus’ shenanigans, in return for his rudeness, Klaus accidentally lets slip the fact that Luther was nicer before he got laid. Earning wide eyes from Allison and the rest of you, Luther snaps at Klaus to shut up, but he just makes it worse when adding in the part where it was an accident cause Luther was actually high.

Allison face is a mix of amazement and disappointment all in one as she abruptly turns around, walking away from rest of you, while Luther trails behind her trying to explain himself. You let them talk it out, as you sit down in one of the doubled side-by-side plastic chairs, choosing the empty spot next to Diego. Klaus is in front of the both of you, Five in his own seat next to him. Out of nowhere, a random but incredibly bubbly plump lady and her son walk up to you, Diego, Klaus, and Five.

“Excuse me. But it’s my son, Kenny’s birthday today and...um..wouldn’t your son be happier playing with kids his own age?” She says expectantly, with the largest and most annoying of smiles, “Assuming it’s okay with you and your husband.” She asks you sweetly, looking between you, Diego, and Five. Klaus looks to the two of you with raised eyebrows as he covers his mouth to hide a muffled laugh, Diego focuses on her before turning to you with an agitated and puzzled glance.

You give her a tight lipped smile about to say some smart-ass remark when Five beats you to it, “I would rather chew off my own foot.” He growls through clenched teeth. The lady’s face falls as you look over at him with a fake frown, turning to this lady with an equally false beaming smile.

“Maybe some other time, he gets cranky when he doesn’t have his apple juice before 8 o’clock.” She gives you a knowing motherly nod, as she hastily turns around with her son, walking away from all of you.

“Y/N what the hell was that shit.” Snaps Five as Klaus and Diego let out muffled laughter. You turn to him with a smirk, “What? You just missed out on an opportunity to make your first friend in 45 years.” He looks elsewhere with a sigh,”Yeah cause I need friends, you people are enough to handle already.”

Suddenly Five gets distracted by some swishing noise, getting up to check on it elsewhere in the facility. You, Klaus, and Diego don’t care enough to follow.

You slouch back in the small uncomfortable bowling alley seat, Diego leaning in close to your side with a mischievous grin. “If we had a kid, I hope they wouldn’t be like Five.” You look up at him, “If we had a kid like Five we’d have to just throw the whole kid away. And FYI, I just hope they aren’t like you when it comes to stubbornness.” You sass back, he gives you a half offended look. You just smile at him as he looks back adoringly at you, “Well I guess we won’t even need to have a wedding, that lady already confirmed you’re my wife so.” You snort at his remark, “Then if you happen to end up dead somewhere, do I get widow compensation money benefits to go along, cause I would love an apartment overlooking the city.” You ask him, giving him a playful nudge, Diego just shakes his head with a smile. “I’ll get us that apartment someday...its coming I promise.” He assures you, lightly poking your side, you just roll your eyes in reply.

He leans back, throwing an arm over your shoulder as the two of you look around the bowling alley for anything suspicious. You lean yourself closer into his side, enjoying this small moment of silent affection. “Just so the two of you know, I want to be invited to this wedding.” Adds Klaus out of nowhere, you glance over to him with a nod, “You can be the best man.” You tell him, his face instantly lights up, already thinking of some extravagant outfit and speech to have ready. Diego just chuckles at the two of you, thinking his own pleasant thoughts for that day. Hoping that it will eventually come to light, if the apocalypse doesn’t ruin everything first.

“All right, where’s Five?” Wonders Luther, walking back up to the three of you.

“He left.” Says Diego, standing up again, you doing the same.

“Oh, for the love of...where’d he go?”

“Didn’t say.” You add, assuming it must of been important if he just teleported away without saying anything first. Or maybe he had to take a huge shit, but who knows.

“Well, we’re not waiting around for him. The concert starts in 30 minutes.” States Luther.

“All right, so what’s the plan?” Diego asks him, although you’re doubtful it’s going to be a good one. Luther pauses for a moment, “Well, I think that, uh.....we go to the Icarus Theater.” You cut in, “That’s a place....not a plan.” He opens his mouth to say something but decides otherwise.

“What? Is that all you got?” Accuses Diego, walking in closer to Luther, “Look, you wanna be Number One, fine, but you’re gonna have to get us on the same page, because right now, we’re all over the place.” Luther looks at Diego almost bored, clearly getting that he’s right, but never wanting to fully admit it, until now, “You’re right....We need a plan.”

As Luther is finishing up his sentence, your eyes snap up to the scent of ammunition, your nose locating the bullets like a shark smelling a drop of blood in the ocean. Your brows furrow as you squint your eyes to the darkly clad gas masked looking motherfuckers with guns, sneaking their way into the bowling alley. If they were trying to be subtle, mission sorely failed. They don’t look like they’re from around here, and you have a strong hunch they’re not here to bowl. You don’t even have time to warn anyone before these bastards start raining bullets like there’s no tomorrow, and quit literally there might not be one.

You take cover behind the bowling alley tables, these ones conveniently cover all the way to the floor, giving you and the rest of the Hargreeves a place to hide. “Who the hell are these guys?” Shouts Diego wide eyed, he’s sitting to your right, as Luther sits to your left.

“Maybe they’re here for Kenny’s birthday!” Yells Klaus, covering his ears from the intrusive racket. Your own ears are bounding with each gun that goes off, you’re quickly getting pissed. “No, I’m pretty sure they’re here for us!” Answers Luther, as more bullets continue to mercilessly search for their breathing targets. “The fuck do we do now? All I’ve got is my boot knife.” You tell the four of them, suddenly Diego jumps up, throwing a dagger into the chest of one of the weird masked guys. In the process the lights flip to night mode, neon lasers are flashing every which way. Luther stands up, launching a heavy bowling ball into one of them, knocking them out.

You stand up yourself, pulling your pencil-long silver dagger from out of your hidden boot pocket, Diego continues to throw his knives while Luther grabs more bowling balls, chucking them at the shooters. You jump up on the table in front of you, front flipping through the air and gracefully landing in a crouched position as you slash your dagger into the Achilles tendon of the closest masked shooter. Slitting it open in one clean motion, he instantly falls to the floor where you then throw your hands tightly around his neck and snap it with little effort. You dart to the left next, vaulting yourself onto the pool table. Your left hand holds you up as you swing your legs and body over the table, sucker punching your next target in the head with a powerful kick.

He falls to the ugly looking carpet with a thud, you flip backwards avoiding the bullets from his friend who’s to your right. He misses you, shooting his unconscious companion in the back, evidently killing him. That works for you, with no time to spare you launch yourself at him, grabbing his head from behind with your left arm. You roughly tilt it up, bringing your right arm over, slitting his throat wide open. He immediately falls to the floor, holding his opened throat as he gurgles, choking on his own blood.

When you look up again, the Hargreeves are racing down the bowling lanes, miraculously avoiding getting shot at, much to your help. Trying to give them a better chance at not getting holes punched into their sides, you lift up the side of the pool table with both of your hands. Lifting the whole thing up and off of the floor with ease, you then catapult it directly into the four masked assassins, severely injuring most of them. The loud gunfire around you slows a bit, taking the blessed opportunity before you, you race towards your friends in a blur. Sliding underneath the back of the alley like an action hero, and out into the other side.

#the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x you #the umbrella academy x reader #what a time to be alive fic #falcor the luck dragon stories #tua season one #tua #number two

72 notes · View notes

goldeneyedgirl · 4 years

Text

whumptober time

I’ve always been a joiner, so following in @volturialice & @flowerslut’s footsteps (and holy hell, those ladies are bringing it), I figured I’d toss my hat in the ring. Not sure if I’ll get many done, but I can only try! And what better way to try that to start with a spontaneous MCU crossover.

Day 08: Where Did Everybody Go?

“Don’t Say Goodbye” | Abandoned | Isolation

Rating: T for swearing

Words: 2,482

Summary: Twilight X MCU crossover. The Snap doesn’t just kill humans. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Notes: Takes place a couple of weeks after the Eclipse Battle/ at the end of Infinity War. Yup, now Twilight happens in 2018. I should just call this ‘Jar of Hearts’ but that feels a big grisly. Ideally, I’ll be writing three more parts to this for Whumptober or for Jalice Week (depending on prompts).

It was a normal night for them. There was nothing to indicate anything was wrong. The boys had gone hunting together, deep into the Olympic Ranges for predators.

If he had to remember one thing about that hunt, it was how … pleasant it was. They’d all caught what they had hoped for (with a helpful map from Alice). There were no disagreements, no mood-swings, no storming off for hours. And with brothers like his, to avoid all three of those things was a fucking miracle.

When he looks back, he tries to work out when it started. They were running back, mud-splattered and bloody; for once, they weren’t so late they couldn’t clean up before school.

It’s Edward first - just ahead of him to the left. Eddie leaps over a fallen tree and he … stumbles, only just keeping his balance.

“Jasper!”

He’s laughing at Edward’s stumble - perfect balance and all that - but Jasper isn’t. In fact, both Edward and Jasper have this look of increasing horror on their faces, and it’s only when Jasper grabs Edward and Jasper’s hand goes through Edward’s shoulder because Edward is turning into dust and that is not fucking right.

“Emmett.”

He’s never heard Edward sound so much like the seventeen year old boy he was, and he reaches for his oldest - and his youngest - brother, but by the time his hands are grasping out for Edward’s, Edward is gone. There’s nothing left of him, no clothes or cellphone or bones or hair or anything. It’s not even proper ash, but dust that mingles with the dirt on the ground, and there’s nothing. Nothing. He might as well have never been there.

He’s not entirely sure if he’s feeling his own horror, his own terror, and grief, or if Jasper is projecting. Neither of them know what to do, to scoop what is left of Edward into their pockets, and flee home or to get help or to… what.

But then Jasper is running again, and he follows, desperation streaming off Jasper so strongly that Emmett can almost feel his own dead heart pounding.

Is it disease? Are there vampires diseases?

It can’t be age, Jasper and Carlisle are older, the Denali girls older still…

His phone trills in his pocket but he keeps running and Jasper keeps running, and they aren’t getting there fast enough.

Jasper keeps running until he crumples into dust, his golden eyes wide, and the one word on his lips lost as he disintegrates.

Alice.

He backs away from Jasper’s resting place, like the dust is contagious - and maybe it is - maybe whatever happened to Edward spread to Jasper when he touched him.

Instead, he runs. He tears through the forest, a soundless rhythm in his head Rosie-Rosie-Rosie-Rosie and the kind of swirling, twisting worry like human nausea in his stomach as he bursts through trees and underbrush.

He’s ten miles out when he hears the screaming.

It doesn’t stop as he somehow moves faster, and bursts through the property line, to the backdoor of the house, which he half rips off the frame as he charges into the house.

The screaming - the wailing - is Alice, on her hands and knees in the sitting room. There’s dust on her face and hands, and she’s not all there, her eyes wide and glassy, as she rocks back and forth.

There’s a weight in his stomach, one that gets heavier every second Rosalie doesn’t appear, that Esme isn��t trying to calm Alice. Instead, he skids to a stop and drops to his knees in front of her, tugging her into his arms, pointedly ignoring the dust that sticks to his jeans, that he sends floating up into the air.

This is an Alice he doesn’t know, just like he knows a Rose that no one else does. The one that Jasper has alluded to, once or twice, in confidence. That it might have always looked like Alice was the one piecing Jasper back together, pulling him along in her grand plans, but it was never as simple or easy as that. Jasper held her together, she put him together. A balancing act.

Just the way that people assumed that he was the one that healed Rosalie of all her demons, when in truth he was just there, letting her know that whatever ‘okay’ looked like for Rosalie was for her - and only her - to decide. And that he’s always been the luckiest son of a bitch in existence to be apart of her version of ‘okay’.

Rose would have lost it with Alice by now. There’s no way Rosalie would have tolerated this level of noise.

Rose isn’t coming.

He holds his sister tight, and mutters reassurances in her hair. They stay like that for awhile until Alice just lets out a sob, and looks up at him, blinking slowly.

“He said he’d never leave me,” she says in a wobbly voice. “He promised me.”

“It wasn’t by choice,” Emmett rushes to tell her. “You were his last thought; he tried so hard to get home before he…”

Alice wipes her eyes, but she still doesn’t look like Alice. She looks lost and breakable, and she sits back, noticing the pile of dust they’re both sitting amongst.

“She… she was so mad,” Alice babbles suddenly, grabbing his hand. “If anyone could have stopped it, could have reversed it by… by sheer will, it was Rosalie, Em. She didn’t go alone, I had her.”

He’s sitting amongst his wife’s… ashes-dust-remains. It’s on his hands and legs and face, and he can see it clinging to Alice’s hair, and he kind of wants to match her wailing because there has never been an Emmett without a Rosalie, not in any history that counts, and without Rose, he has no plan, no direction, no purpose. The world has tilted off its axis, and he wants to go and bury his face in her clothes upstairs, clothes that smell like roses-lemons-cars until the tearing feeling in his chest just stops.

“Esme came running,” Alice continued, staring off into space. “She didn’t make it down the stairs. She didn’t even notice until she was practically gone.”

They sit in silence for a moment, or maybe longer, until the day has begun. The sky has lightened, and they are still alone in a quiet house. No radio, no conversation, no bickering, nothing.

“Did you see this?” he asks finally, and feels cruel asking.

“No.” She sniffles, and he thinks how cruel it was to take Jasper and leave Alice. “It happened so fast; I saw Edward when Rose started to…” She took a deep breath. “I felt Jasper go.” She shudders and there’s a hitch in her breath, and he really doesn’t want her to start crying again.

“We should call Carlisle,” he says, and she nods but pauses.

“Call his phone, not the hospital. No one will answer,” she whispers, but there’s a look in her eyes he doesn’t like and he doesn’t want to ask, either…

“I can’t see him answering, Em,” she whispers.

He takes a deep breath and dials the number.

It rings.

It keeps ringing.

“Hello?”

It’s a nervous sounding woman’s voice, and for a moment, he can’t find the words.

“I don’t know whose phone this is,” the woman continues, her voice shaking.

“It’s Emmett Cullen. I need to speak to my father - Dr Carlisle Cullen,” he manages, but Alice is already shaking her head.

“Emmett, it’s Nurse Fletcher,” and he has no idea who that is, truly. “Your father… he’s gone, Emmett.” The woman sounds traumatised, and he understands. “Half the hospital just… disappeared, there was nothing anyone could have done…”

He throws his phone against the wall, and it smashes through the drywall as it shatters, and Esme’s not even here to yell at him.

—

Somehow, Alice gets him to his feet, and drags him into Forks. Something about people coming looking for them and they need to go to the school, where everyone who is still here is gathering. They’re both covered in the dust of their family (Edward and Rose, mostly, and he wonders if bringing Alice a handful of her husband’s remains would have been the right thing to do. They’d left Esme where she fell, a waterfall of dirt on the stairs.)

There aren’t many people at the school when they arrive, and people are staring. He gets it; Alice looks like she just crawled out of an empty grave (Rose’s; Rose sticking to her face and hair and hands and knees…) and he’s splattered with mud and probably blood that he didn’t think to clean up before they left but together they are a suitably haunted, stricken pair of siblings.

A couple of Bella’s friends are at the impromptu gathering; the Hispanic girl is clinging to a man who has to be her father, fresh tear tracks on her face. A blonde girl is sitting with a blanket around her, almost bisected perfectly down her body with the dust of someone - a classmate, a family member, a passerby. Just dozens of people standing around, confused and grieving.

But Alice stops when she sees one figure, stooped and already exhausted.

Charlie Swan catches her in a hug as she approaches him a little faster than she should, and he wants to pull her back because now parts of Rosalie are sticking to Charlie’s clothes and from the look on Charlie’s face and on Alice’s, the dust on Charlie belonged to Bella.

He wants to chuckle, at the picture of Rose’s face if she was told her ashes would be mixed up with Bella’s forever now, or at least until Charlie does some laundry.

“She was in bed, sleeping,” Charlie says. “I thought it was a prank, at first.” His eyes are shiny and he takes a shuddering breath and looks closer at the pair of them. “Who…”

Alice seems to shrink into herself, and just shakes her head. “It’s just me and Emmett now,” she mutters. “Jasper’s gone and Rosalie’s gone, and Esme and Carlisle and Edward and now Bella.” There’s a tinge of hysteria to her words, and Emmett pulls his sister closer because he doesn’t want what’s left of Forks to watch if he has to try and calm her down from another round of hysteria.

“It’ll be okay,” he manages. “We’ll call Denali and see how Tanya’s doing. Cousins,” he offers to Charlie, who looks relieved. “We’ll check in on a few people,” he continues, hoping to distract Alice, who keeps repeating their names under her breath. “Peter and Charlotte, Maria, Garrett, Randall…”

“Good. You kids can stay with me while you track down some family if you need to,” Charlie offers but Alice manages to pull herself together.

“No, we’ll be fine,” she assures him. “Emmett’s old enough and … we’ll be fine. We just need to know what happened.”

“We don’t know much yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll call,” Charlie promises. “I’ll put your names on the … Survivors list, you two go on home and take a shower, make sure you’ve got enough food and gas in the car. And you call if you need anything.”

“Carlisle’s phone,” he says immediately. “Nurse Fletcher at the hospital has it, but we … can’t go there.”

Charlie seems to understand by totally misunderstanding why they can’t go to the hospital and promises to see what he can do.

And then there’s nothing else for them to do but go home. Go home and wash off the dust, and scoop what’s left into Esme’s vases (urns, now). Alice folds their dirty clothes and puts them in a box without a word, and he watches her collect dust from the trim on the coffee table, from the gaps between the floorboards, with a tiny paintbrush so that every grain of his beautiful wife is collected.

Then he takes her to where Jasper fell and she doesn’t say anything. There’s no way to tell what dust and dirt is Jasper and what is the forest, and there’s nothing here for her to gather in her hands and hold tight. They sit for awhile, just staring at the spot.

“If Maria survived, it’s going to be bad,” she manages as the light begins to fade. “And if the Volturi…”

They walk home at a human pace, and they both start to notice things that they missed before; the stillness of the forest, suddenly amiss half its animals. The sparseness of the trees, of the ground. As they make it home, the day sinking into night, he notices half of Esme’s gardens just gone, as if waiting for someone to plant them fresh, when they were in full bloom less than a day ago.

There’s a small figure waiting on the back porch, in dirty denim cut-offs. He looks smaller than last time they saw him, only weeks ago.

Seth Clearwater swallows hard when he sees them, and they can tell by the look on his face that whatever, whoever is left on the Res, it certainly isn’t his family and friends, and Emmett is overwhelmingly sad for the kid that had to come to his natural enemies for safe haven.

“The pack,” Seth begins. “It’s only me, and Colin, and Brady left. And at home, it’s only me.”

Alice moves too fast, and pulls him into a tight hug, and Seth hugs her back, despite the stench.

“I figured you might know something about what’s happened,” Seth continues, and he’s trying so hard not to cry, he’s giving Emmett a headache. “I left Colin and Brady back to protect the Res, and came to find help.”

He wants so badly to promise this kid it’s going to fine, that they’ll find a Tardis, a time-turner, a fucking goddess of time and rewind everything to stop this from happening but his wife is nothing but dirt, and his sister looks like a broken marionette, and there’s a wolf pup looking so desperate and hopeful that the words die on his tongue.

Alice smiles at him, kindly, for for a second she looks like herself. That lost, glassy look she’s worn all day has faded back inside her, and he hopes it stays there.

“Come in, Seth,” she says, and motions that they both follow her in through the door he broke that morning. “I think we’ve got food.”

Emmett takes off his boots before he goes inside (just like Esme always nagged for him to and he never remembered), and he wonders if the others are up there, laughing their asses off that the House of Cullen has crumbled and all that’s left is a broken psychic, an underage shapeshifter, and the guy with his wife in a jar.

He thinks it might even be funny to someone.

#will tag tomorrow so tired #my writing: jar of hearts #my fic: jar of hearts #just killing off as many characters as i can #it was super fun #perfect balance doesn't always look perfect especially in small communities and in minorities #imagine the absolute riot maria and/or the volturi would start if 50-60% of their primary food source just vanished

51 notes · View notes

westershiresauce · 4 years

Text

Headcanon: Deus Ex Scuba Gear

Note: Spoilers for Bly Manor.

So, here is my Bly Manor/Supergirl crossover crackfic headcanon where Kara is Dani and her ex Mike gets killed by a truck when he walks into traffic after Kara comes out to him and breaks off their relationship.

“Mike, I think I’m gay,” the blonde whispers, too ashamed to speak any louder. The man next to her tenses slightly before a look of relief washes over him.

“Oh thank God,” he says, and smiles at a confused Kara.

“What? You’re okay with this?” Mike shrugs and shoots the woman his frustratingly disarming grin.

“I mean, am I glad I’m being dumped? No. Am I relieved that the reason is you aren’t into guys? Kind of.” Kara wrinkles her brows in confusion and he continues.

“I mean, I know I’m hot.” Mike grins again and winks at the blonde who purses her lips at his peacocking, “I thought maybe you were just frigid or something.”

“Mike!” Kara looks around to make sure no one is listening. Mike laughs and she shoots him a glare.

“Hey, you’re the one that decided to break my heart at the corner of a major intersection.”

He winks at her and she advances on the man, trying to shut him up. He skips away from her, ignoring the fact that he is now in the crosswalk of the intersection.

“Mike! Stop fooling around!” the blonde pleads but the man ignores her.

“Hey, were you checking out chicks while we were together?” He waggles his eyebrows and Kara balls her fists at her sides. She refuses to take the bait. The man just laughs at her silence. “Dude, you totally did. What’s your type?”

He goes quiet suddenly and his face lights up. Kara shakes her head. It is seldom a good thing when the man gets a light bulb moment.

“Hey Kara,” his face gets lecherous and Kara readies herself for some horrifying comment, “Would you let me watch?”

Kara’s face blooms red with embarrassment and anger. She steps closer to jab her finger against the man’s face and get her point across. However, Mike anticipates this and he takes another step back, grin still in place even as a truck barrels into his body. Kara stares in shock, midstep and with her finger still in the air as Mike is flung at least twenty feet down the street. The smell of burning rubber as the truck attempts to stop and the blaring sound of a horn being pressed much too late fill her senses.

Kara: “No, Mike, not gay as in happy. Good lord, dude!”

Kara is at the hospital when Mike is pronounced dead. Rhea never really liked her so she leaves for her apartment, still shaken but confused about how she feels about what happened. On the one hand she feels responsible for what happened, but on the other hand, she almost feels relieved. Until, that is, she goes to wash her hands in the bathroom and sees Mike standing behind her. She screams and when she turns around, he is gone. It isn’t until a few days later that she hears someone walking around her apartment that she realizes what happened. She grabs her trusty bat and walks out, expecting some coke addict rifling through her bookshelves but instead sees Mike, pawing at her bookcase. He grunts in frustration when his hand goes through a book but cheers when he manages to knock one onto the floor. Kara drops the bat in shock and Mike turns around, grins wide and puts a hand up in a peace sign, just like when he was alive.

Mike: “I’m still here, bro!”

Turns out Mike is tethered to Kara and it is a horrible, cruel curse. He is both the best and worst wingman and Kara is still not convinced he doesn’t try to peek when she is getting dressed or showering but he also helps her learn to be more confident. All his shameless arrogance makes him a great cheerleader, at least once they talk about some ground rules.

1. No creeping on Kara in the bathroom or when she is changing. Mike scoffs at this and mutters about being able to creep on hotter ladies.

2. No unsolicited advice or comments about women that Kara is not interested in pursuing a relationship with. This is added after a week of Mike making comments about women that had Kara blushing constantly, even at work.

3. No watching when Kara has a lady over. She wasn’t sure where Mike disappeared off to when she did manage to have a date come back to her place but he would always leave after shooting Kara another peace sign and telling her to “do the circle thing I showed you.”

It all hits the fan when Rhea gets wind of Kara dating women and she packs up and leaves. She does not want to deal with that fallout and she would rather get a fresh start somewhere else. Where is that where else? London, Bly Manor, American au pair, you know the rest.

Kara: “Yeah, I’m gonna take a one way and gtfo of here.”

Who are our players at Bly?

Our cook Owen Sharma is good old Jack Spheer because sometimes these things write themselves. And who is our beloved Hannah Grose? Why, Lucy Lane. Because she was too good and I always want to see more of her. Plus she can be a stern little spitfire with the kids and ghosties (The kids refer to her to as Major). She takes her fine self and daydreams about the moment that charming Jack came over to get the job as a cook, not dead, just as a useless hetero (is that a thing? It is now...) that can’t fathom for some reason that Jack is totally in love with her.

As for Rebecca Jessel and Peter Quint? Kelly Olsen (the only character with any brain cells half the time) and Andrea Rojas, our muy caliente Scotsman. Is that racist? No, but her horrendous accent might be a crime. This version has none of the controlling assholeroy of Peter and no secretly killing Rebecca. Just good old bad luck in a horror series. Andrea gets drunk and tries to dive into the lake to find the chest of loot she is convinced is down there so her and Kelly can run away to America.

Andrea: “This is a file on all the reasons you should run away from this haunted ass creepy mansion and come with me to America. Also, there is a map I drew of the lake with an X where the loot most definitely is.”

Kelly: “This is just a picture of you in lingerie and a sheet of paper you colored blue with a big red X in the middle.”

Kelly dies trying to save her when Andrea starts to get hypothermia and they both drown in the freezing lake. Because why bury your gays when you can drown them? Amiright? Who finds their bodies the next day? This leads to the following section: Next slide, please!

Who is standing in for Miles and Flora Wingrave? Why, Ruby and a tiny Nia, of course. Nia is a sweet baby angel and I want to meet her as a little sister, totally doted on by her big sister, Ruby. Nia sees Andrea and Kelly arguing like lesbians (so much hand waving and crying and angry whispering) on the far end of the lake while their blue popsicle bodies float around. Ruby and Lucy drag little Nia away from the scene.

Nia: “My giant scarf is perfectly splendid! Also, I am baby.”

Things get really spicy when Kara shows up, ghost!Mike and all. He complains about not being able to haunt the “hot chick from apartment 314” any more, but he perks up at the thought of “British broads.” Kara had hoped he was tethered to National City or something, but it appears he is linked to her. Mike is ecstatic when he finds out Bly is full of ghosts. He is always off somewhere exploring the mansion and only pops in to tell Kara snippets of Bly’s history and its many inhabitants.

Meanwhile, we get to the real star of this indulgent charade. Lena as the wonderfully fit Irish (let her have the accent!) gardener, Jaime. She is convinced Kara is a corn-fed straighty from America until Kara throws herself at her in the greenhouse because flowers turn on lesbians (see Imagine You and Me and Georgia O'Keeffe’s many works. This is sapphic lore, kids.) She opens up about Mike and Lena smooches her so she doesn’t have to listen to the hot blonde’s delusions.

Lena: “What do you mean it is too bright? What book? This is a watering can for my gardening activities. So is my fashionable, appropriately sized hat.”

Kara: *OMG she is so hot and cool, what do I do?* “Hey, do you guys do the circle thing in the UK?”

Meanwhile, things are getting interesting with Mike and the ghosts: Kelly and Andrea, newly minted Bly ghosts, explain that they are stuck on the grounds. Mike, who believes in having the freedom of “you do you,” vows to break the curse. He strikes a heroic pose that makes Andrea roll her eyes but Kelly agrees they need to find out more about the origins of the Bly Manor curse.

Flashback episode in a horrid b/w tone because I want to show this is old, okay. It’s not like we could figure it out by the clothes. Or the set dressing. Or the fact that the one of the characters died of “the lung.”

Anyway, we have our sisters, Viola and the other one. Their names don’t really matter because they are going to be the brunette one and the blonde one, played by the queen of period series: Katie McGrath.

Anger-y brunette Katie, getting her smacking hand ready.

And blonde, sad (but also evil? plot twist!) Katie, lusting after her brother in law.

And they fight over none other than Daddy Cullen, Maxwell Lorde, because look at that hair, look at all those buttons, look at that big hand! Who could resist?

The child is baby Lena being twirled by Anger-y Katie pre-“the lung” because let’s just have this turn into a black hole that destroys itself.

Baby Lena: “Swing me, mummy. Swing me with your good lungs!”

Anger-y Smack-You-Every-Time Katie: “I swung too close to the sky and now this is happening to me.”

So while Kara and Lena are christening all sorts of places at Bly (yes, even the master wing because, of course, the master wing), Mike, Andrea, and Kelly are incepting themselves into all sorts of memories and whatnot. Cue that montage!

404 ERROR. MONTAGE NOT FOUND.

Whoops, looks like we blew our budget on that black and white filter. Sorry about that.

Once the ghost trio realizes the chest in the lake doesn’t in fact hold some dragon’s hoard of gold, but the key to ending this madness, Mike pops in on Lena and Kara to bring them up to speed. Kara screams at him about the third rule while Lena tries to accept the fact that her girlfriend (yes, they are girlfriends by now, keep up) has a ghost for a best friend.

Kara makes Mike look away while her and Lena get dressed and after quite a bit of exposition, they decide to pull the chest up from the lake. Lucy and Jack have been off playing hide the croissant or whatever the straights do during their leisure time, but they quickly hop on the “break the Bly manor curse” train.

There is a fun B (C?) plot where Ruby and Nia steal Jack’s car and drive into town. No one in town cares because they are rich and all the adults at Bly are busy romancing each other and assume the girls are being odd rich kids playing somewhere in the manor.

The adults are planning how to get down to the chest without suffering Andrea and Kelly’s fate, when they find some scuba gear the kids bought on their last trip to town. It is wholly impractical but the adults shrug and accept the plot hole so they can hurry this along.

They draw straws and Kara has to dive down and tie some chains around the sunken chest. Lena jumps in front of limited edition Scuba Gear Kara to stop her but the American has to America so she dives into the freezing lake after a swoon inducing “I’ll be right back” kiss. Like, gifable on tumblr, twitter, and whatever new platform there is a hundred years from now.

Scuba Gear Kara: “Guys, I can’t see anything through this helmet. Guys?“

After a few tense moments where Anger-y Olden Time™ Katie tries to stop Kara, Mike, Andrea, and Kelly step in and use their ghost powers to keep her away from Kara. Jack uses his car to pull up the haunted chest and they pry it open with a crowbar and plenty of moxie. The screams of slap happy Katie of the past ring out around the heroes as the curse is broken. The ghosts cheer, everyone laughs nervously (they know the end is never the end in a horror story) and Kara shivers from the cold until she is next to the fire, dry and cuddled up with Lena.

As her final act of revenge, Anger-y Katie gives Kara the Lung(!) but thanks to the power of Science, our spunky American pulls through after properly completing the full course of treatment and antibiotics. This includes Lena taking sexy care of her girlfriend. *wink*

***** westershiresauce is not a medical professional and their thoughts regarding the health benefits/healing powers of a sexy nurse!Lena are not verified. Don’t take srsly. *****

Cut to, one more garden and I can retire, Lena, sitting next to an immaculate shrub, waiting for her wife Kara to bring out the tea and biscuits.

THE END!

Lena: “I swear to all that is holy, if that tea is shite, I am leaving her. It’s been like thirty years!”

28 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

guilty pleasures | thomas

word count; 7902

summary; thomas is still reeling over his break up, before meeting newt’s new roommate, and his perspective changes entirely.

notes; ha, enjoy. very little plot here. pretty much just an emotional mess for Tommy. bit of an AU because, y’know, why not?

warnings; smut.

He couldn’t help the frown on his features. It had been permanently embedded there for two weeks now. His eyes were still slightly sore from the times he had spent rubbing at them aimlessly as he cried, but today, the frown was more out of anger and confusion.

Anger, irrationally, at Newt for not being at his house when Thomas needed him to be. he knew it was stupid of him to be angry at his friend. He was probably running errands or helping his sister move out and in with her girlfriend, as he had been doing for the past few days, but Thomas hadn’t exactly been in a rational place since Teresa had left him. He was confused because the girl had broken up with him out of nowhere, a three-year relationship thrown away because she had decided she just wasn’t feeling a spark anymore, and she was tired of trying.

She’d packed up all her belongings before Thomas had even gotten home that day, leaving his apartment bare of half the things that were usually in it, and making him feel more alone than ever. She hadn’t spoken to him since that day, and while they hadn’t argued or screamed at each other, a fairly placid break-up, to be fair, she had quickly cut herself off from his life.

Now, however, she was texting him, and telling him she wanted to look through some of the things they had bought together and see if any of them mattered to her. She could have them, for all Thomas cared. He didn’t want to look at them, he didn’t want them anywhere near him. He hated most of the crap that had been boxed up anyway, he’d only bought it to make Teresa happy, but the only problem was, he didn’t have it anymore.

After the breakup, Newt had arrived with a cardboard box and gone through his apartment with a ‘fine-tooth comb’, removing any and everything that might remind him of the girl who had walked out on him. The box was sat at Newt’s house, behind the locked door, and Thomas needed it back, while the anger inside him still gave him the confidence to actually go to her place and face her.

With a sigh, he decided fuck it, he would just let himself in, grab the box real quick, and be on his way. Using his foot to push over the ridiculously ugly gnome that sat by the front door, a small silver key was revealed to him, and he swiped it from its position on the stone quickly. Pushing the metal into the lock, he twisted, the door clicking open for him and he replaced the key under the ceramic figure, standing it back up before entering the house.

Pushing the door shut softly behind himself, he was barely three feet into the home before hushed tinkering in the kitchen sounded out, and his eyebrows furrowed. Newt clearly wasn’t home, his car was gone, and Sonya had been moving in with her girlfriend, most likely was Newt wasn’t here in the first place, and so Thomas had expected it to be empty.

Stepping closer to the source of the sound, he peeked into the kitchen, surprised at your figure occupying the space. His eyebrows remained furrowed as he took you in, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, missed chunks falling around your face and tucked behind your ears. A massively oversized shirt hung from your shoulders, practically falling over the edge of one of them as it almost swamped the shorts you wore underneath it.

Turning to face him, his cheeks reddened as your scream snapped him from his curious staring, his gaze leaving your legs to fly back up to meet your eyes. Your hand was clutched to your chest, dry sticks of pasta from the now half-filled bag of spaghetti in your hands were rolling across the floor from where you had jumped in shock, and the frown that had momentarily disappeared from his lips while looking at you was back, guilt crawling in his stomach.

“Jesus, you scared the life out of me.” You mumbled, placing your spaghetti packet down on the side and using your foot to nudge some of the dropped and useless pieces into a pile on the floor. “Thomas, right?”

“Uh.. yeah?”

“Newt has been telling all about you guys. It wasn’t hard to put it together. Plus, there are pictures of you guys everywhere.” He continued to stare at you sceptically, licking his lips as he took a few steps closer to you. “I’m (Y/N), Newt’s new roommate. Well, housemate.” Leaning over the counter in the middle of the kitchen, you offered your hand to him, and he took it, shaking it gently.

“I’m Thomas, but you already knew that.” Finally, a smile cracked through on his features, only a small one, and it didn’t reach his eyes, which were still full of sadness, but it was something. Placing the spaghetti you still had into the pot of boiling water you had prepared, he watched you silently as you busied yourself around the kitchen. It wasn’t until you’d cleaned up the spilt pasta and disposed of it, while he stood in the same spot without speaking, that you faced him again.

“So, what exactly are you here for? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh! Of course, my bad. Um.. well- my, um.. my ex. There’s a box of things that Newt took from my apartment when she left me, but she keeps texting me, and she wants them.” He ran a hand through his hair, hands coming up to rub at his eyes as he sighed angrily. “Like, I don’t want them! I only bought them to make her happy, but why didn’t she just take them when she left if she wants them that bad? Is she trying to torture me?”

Pulling open the door of the fridge, you plucked two glass bottles from inside, popping the caps off of both of them and placing one down on the counter before the man. Glancing at the beer you had placed out, he let his lips tug up in the smallest of smiles at the notion, taking the cold glass between his fingers and raising it to his lips as he sat down.

The silence hung between you both again, and you stirred at the softening pasta gently, before turning your back to him and leaning against the counter beside you. Glancing up from his perch at the island in the centre of the room, his eyes scanned over you once again, shamelessly, before coming up to meet your eyes.

“You can talk to me if you want. It sorta’ seems like you need to talk it out, for your own sake, to understand it all, and I’m here to listen. If you want me to.” You shrugged off the way his eyebrows rose at the offer, instead choosing to busy yourself with your cooking once again. The second his mouth opened, he couldn’t stop the words that were flowing out. He spoke about her before they were dating when they first met in high school. He told you the story of their relationship, all the times they broke up and got back together a day later, and the way they fought, and all the happy moments that fixed them.

By the time you were placing a plate of pasta out in front of him, his cheeks were wet, eyes red, and he was all talked out. Taking a seat across from him, you merely nodded at his mumbled thank you, as he picked up the fork quickly and began to tuck into the food, clearly hungry. “You want my honest opinion, Thomas?” He looked up at you, nodding and taking a sip of his beer as he did. Twirling your pasta around your work, the metal scraped lightly against the ceramic, before the tips of his fingers brushed the back of your hand gently, stilling your movements entirely.

“I can take it, tell me what you think about it all.”

“I.. I think it was doomed from the beginning. You never had time for one another, and ask yourself honestly, did you ever really connect on anything? Or, perhaps you were just trying to make something work, that only started out based on idle fascination in college.” Your words hung heavily in the air, and he swallowed his food thickly, the only sounds filling the room for a few minutes is that of cutlery scraping against plates, and the occasional clink of beer bottled meeting the marble counter as you took a sip of your drinks. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, don’t be. It was harsh, but it was the truth, and I think I needed it. You were right, and I think I always knew we wouldn’t make it, but it still hurts, you know?”

You did know, you’d had your fair share of bad breakups, unrequited feelings, the whole bunch. He finished his meal, clearing both of your plates away quietly into the dishwasher once you had finished, helping himself to another beer from the fridge as you moved about the kitchen together in easy harmony.

“You know what always makes me feel better?” You eventually filled the quiet, and his eyes found yours curiously, brows raised. “Getting super drunk and playing video games.” As you said that, his face cracked out in a wide grin, eyes lighting up at the thought.

“Now that’s an idea I can get behind.”

With a cheeky grin, you cheered happily, leaning up to the top cabinet and pulling the bottle of amber liquid from the top shelf, shaking the half-full bottle side to side. He held his hand up in the air, palm open to you and you swung your hand up to meet his in a high-five. The sounds echoed around the room loudly as you giggled, skipping through to the living room and dropping yourself down onto the couch.

Unscrewing the cap of the drink, the spicy smell filled the air, and you watched as he darted around the TV in front of you, switching on the console and grabbing two controllers before taking a seat beside you. Holding the bottle out to him, you shook it slightly.

“The broken-hearted can have the first drink.” With a lopsided grin, he took the bottle from you, raising it to his lips. Latching your fingers underneath, you tipped the bottle upwards, a chuckle leaving his lips as a drip of the liquid ran along his chin.

“You’re trying to get me drunk.” He teased, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand and you shrugged, setting up the first game that the two of you would be playing. The rim of the bottle pressed against your lips, and you chuckled, turning to look at him as you parted your lips, letting him tip the bottle back as the spirit burned at your throat. “I refuse to be the only drunk one. You’ll have an edge on me at Mario Kart.”

He winked at you as you shook your head, eyes squeezed shut as your throat burned from the drink. “I’m going to have an edge on you anyway, I’m amazing at this game.” You teased, and he gasped falsely, clutching his chest as he considered your words. Tucking your legs underneath yourself, you ignored the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to the way the large top you wore covered the shorts that had ridden up your thighs, your legs almost entirely exposed to him.

“I’m taking that as a challenge. Loser of each game has to drink.” He offered, and placed the bottle between the two of you on the coffee table sat before you. Holding out his hand, all fingers other than the pink were closed, that lone finger pointing out in your direction.

Locking your own pinkie with his, you shook tightly, a cheeky grin on your lips as you loaded up the first game. “Deal.”

You had lost count of how many games you had each won and lost. The tequila had run out a long time ago, and glass bottles were scattered around the living room. His head was across your lap, your fingers weaved into his hair as you laughed loudly, pure joy filling the room as he recounted many stories that only seemed to get more and more entertaining. His shoulders were light, the weight lifted from them finally as he relaxed into your grip even more.

Your head was tipped back, and you were wheezing, trying to pull breath into your lungs as you could not stop yourself from laughing, his chuckles ringing loudly in your ears as he continued to tell you the story that had you cracking up. He paused, sitting up to simply watch you in all your joy and your hand fell from his hair, a pout forming on his lips.

His fingers wrapped around your hand, your eyes opening to look at him as he pressed a kiss to your open palm, before weaving your fingers back into his hair. You swallowed thickly, your cheeks aching from all the grinning but the tension between the two of you was thicker now.

Your eyes were locked together, the faint music of a Wii console playing in the background and his fingertips dragged along your skin slowly, your hand tightening in his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

He was shuffling closer to you, with every movement, his eyes never leaving yours but you could watch them darken the closer he got. One of his hands was now cupping your cheek, the other squeezing at the bare skin of your thigh roughly, fingers pressing into the skin in a grip that sent shivers along your spine.

Your breaths were mixing now, and when he let his tongue poke out to wet at his lips, the tip licked along your bottom one slowly. Millimetres apart, you could practically taste him already, and your blood was pounding, heart thumping against your ribs. You wanted to close the gap, it was a bad idea, but you were the queen of bad ideas, you were drunk, and it would be such a deliciously guilty pleasure to indulge in.

Before you could allow yourself to make the decision, the house phone hung up on the wall blared loudly through the room, jumping in place, you scrambled to get up, the air around you feeling cold as the close proximity you had held was ripped away by your fleeing. As it reached its fourth ring, you picked it up, shaky hands bring the device to your ear as you cleared your throat.

The voice on the other end began to speak immediately, and you listened carefully to what they were saying, bracing yourself on the wall as you swayed slightly, your mind still fuzzy from all the alcohol you had consumed. Placing the phone back on the wall, you turned to face Thomas, who had stood up from the couch, his eyes fixed on you as he took slow steps in your direction.

“Who was it?”

“It was Newt. He isn’t coming back tonight, he had a few drinks at Sonya and Harriet’s, and he shouldn’t drive. He said he’ll be back tomorrow.” Your words were basically whispered, but he heard them perfectly as he closed in on you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb running over your lips as the other found your hip. Backing you up, your back met the wall, the breath leaving your lungs in a shocked huff, his nose nudging against yours.

“So, you’re saying we’re going to be alone all night?” His face morphed into a sly grin as he backed away, enough to look you in the eyes, and you took your lip between your teeth, his gaze immediately honing in on the action.

“Thomas.. we shouldn’t. You only just got out of a relationship.”

“Three weeks ago.” He murmured, voice low and his body came to rest up against yours, bodies pressed flat together and a low moan slipped from your lips as that comforting heat found your body again, and he let out a deep chuckle at the sound.

“You’ll feel differently in the morning. You’ll regret it. I’m not taking the blame because you needed a rebound fuck, you can’t put that guilt on me.” You whispered, and he nodded slowly, his head dipping down as his lips brushed against yours, barely giving you enough to get even a hint of a taste, and you so craved to know how his mouth tasted.

“I don’t care how I’ll feel tomorrow. I just care how I feel now. And now-” His hand slid down from your hip, gripping at your knee as he pulled one of your legs up to hook around his waist, somehow pulling the two of you closer. “I just want to fuck you until you can’t walk. God, I want to know how you would feel wrapped around my cock, I want to know what my name would sound like when you scream it, I want to know how it would feel as shake and twitch under my fingers. I want to know how it feels when you fall apart under my touch.”

“Screw it.” You closed the gap, a low moan rumbling from his mouth and into yours as your hands came up to wrap around his shoulders, lifting yourself up to kiss him properly. His lips were wet and soft, moving against yours quickly, a delicate kiss that only sent excitement running down your spine.

He sucked on your lower lip, pulling away to nibble on it slightly and you whimpered under him, his grip on your thigh tightening in response. His eyes opened to meet yours once again, and just like that, everything shifted.

He was diving into you again, lips and tongues clashing together, and he sighed into you. His fingers slipped up from your leg to grope at your ass, fingers slipping under the denim of your shorts and nails scraping at your supple skin. His other hand dropped from holding your face, skimming along the back of your other leg as he pinched, your body jumping up with faith, and he caught you securely.

Your heels were digging into his ass, feeling it shift with every step he took until your back was meeting the cushions of the couch, his body centimetres from yours as he held himself up to look at you, fingers weaving through your hair as his hot pants washed over your face. “God, you’re so beautiful.” You smiled slightly, his finger tracing down over your jaw, before tracing over your lips, stopping in the centre. “I can’t wait to see what you look like when you cum for me, kitten.”

“Holy shit..” The words slipped from you by accident, but he took the opportunity of your parted lips to slip two of his fingers into your mouth. You closed your lips around them eagerly, sucking on them and swirling around the digit, soaking them. His jaw was hanging open, eyes hooded with lust as you did so and he retracted them with a pop.

Sitting back, he kneeled over you, fingers swiftly pushing up the shirt you wore to find the button on your jean shorts, popping it slowly and dragging the zipper down. Slipping his fingers under the fabric, they pushed straight past your panties, meeting your wet folds and a loud moan left you at the contact, your hips bucking up into him.

“You’re already soaked, kitten, and we haven’t even started yet. You’re dripping, making such a mess. What a pretty sight it is.” His tone was condescending, and you couldn't help but love it. Arousal was dripping from every word that left his tongue, only flooding you more as heat crawled along your skin, a whine leaving you as he barely brushed his finger against your clit.

“Tommy, do something!” You begged, and he cooed down at you, free hand coming up to palm at your tits through your shirt as a single finger slipped into you, slowly and teasingly until he was buried to the knuckle.

“No bra? I knew it. Your tits have been bouncing about under here with every move you’ve made, I’ve been half-hard just watching you move about since the second I walked in here.” His thoughts were spewing out loud, but the way he was twisting and curling his finger was already building you up, and you were clenching around the slender digit, body begging for something more.

He seemed to hear your plea, another finger pushing into you and a cry of his name left your lips, happiness lacing the sigh you followed it with as pleasure raced through your body, igniting every nerve and cell it met. He scissored the digits, twisting his arm as he picked up speed, easing his fingers in and out of you as he stretched you out until they were slamming into you roughly.

The material of your jeans was burning against his skin as he jolted his wrist at rapid paces, but watching the way you bit down on your lip, the way your head was tipping back and digging into the cushions or the way his name sounded falling from your lips, it made the burn worth it. He could feel your arousal, leaking from you, the way your walls were squeezing his fingers and he could only imagine just how good you would feel clenched around his cock, milking him of everything he had to give.

Slipping his thumb up, he flicked it against your clit, barely pressing down before you called out to him, your fingers digging into the material of the couch, scratching it at as you clawed at it, fisting the material between your fingers as you came. Juices were dripping down his fingers, wet sounds filling the room as he pulled his hands from your shorts, your body still twitching and your chest rising and falling at high speeds as you tried to catch your breath.

He took his fingers into his mouth, licking you clean and moaning at the taste of you, his own eyes sliding shut as he savoured your essence on his tongue. “You taste, incredible. I can’t wait to bury my face between your pretty thighs as they clamp around my head as you shake and moan for me.”

“Maybe later..” Your hand came out, reaching for him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt as you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. Your lips were brushing his tantalisingly, not in a kiss, just enough to tease him, and as he leaned forward to close the gap, you pulled away. “Right now, I just need your cock buried so deep within me that I’m seeing stars.”

A low growl left him as he stood, pulling you to your feet before him and taking your hand in his. The shorts that had been sitting on your waist loosely fell to the ground, and you stepped out of them, flicking them up with your foot and not bothering to check where they landed. He trailed your hand along his chest, and you swallowed thickly at the evidence of a well-toned and defined body beneath the fabric, your fingers twitching to rip the shirt from him so you could see, but he only took your hand lower.

The tips of your fingers met denim, and he lowered your hand over the bulge in his pants, squeezing your hand in his and groaning lowly. “That’s what you do to me, kitten. ‘M gon’ fuck you so good, no guy will ever be able to fuck you the way I do, ever again. You’ll be all mine.”

“Make me yours, Thomas. Show me what you’ve got.” His fingers popped the button on his jeans swiftly, yanking the zip down and his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans and his boxers, pushing them down to his ankles as your hand found his chest, pushing him back until he was sitting on the couch.

Turning your back to him, your own fingers played with the hem of your panties, your ass in his face as you bent over to push them along your legs. His hand wrapped around his cock, tugging and pumping at it with speed as he watched you, hooded eyes focused on your dripping core. With his free hand, he found your hip, pulling backwards until you were sitting in his lap, his cock pressed between your back and his stomach, his hand still working over himself.

Lifting yourself up on shaky legs, he dragged his tips against your folds, swirling in the wetness you had for him before lining the head of his cock up with you, and you sank down onto him, a whine leaving your lips as you did. “You are so god damn tight.” His breath had been forced from his lungs, eyes rolled back in his head as your drenched heat surrounded him, already hugging him tight and you weren’t even moving yet.

Leaning forward, your hands found his legs, locking on for grip as you began to roll your hips back into his, the feeling of your walls moving against every inch of him causing both of you to moan wantonly into the hot and thick air. It was raw and needy, and purely pent up sexual frustration from the second the two of you had laid eyes on one another, but God was it good.

His fingertips were digging into your flesh as he gripped your hips, and you were sure you were going to be covered in fingerprints tomorrow, from the way he held your hips to the way he grasped your thighs, and the thought only excited you more. Circling your hips, he let out a strangled moan as you clenched around him, his fingers flexing on your hip as he bucked up into you slightly.

A small whine left his lips when you slowed the pace to tease him, and he thrust up into you as best he could, a chuckle leaving your lips at his neediness. His hands circled across to the front of your body, sliding up over your stomach to grip at your tits roughly, pawing at the palmfuls in his hands as you mewled loudly at the sensation.

You had stopped moving all together now, your walls clenching around him every time he squeezed at the mounds on your chest, electricity shooting through you as he pulled you into him, your back meeting his chest. “Kitten, I do not like to be teased. Unless you pick up the pace, I will flip you over and fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.” He nipped at your earlobe as he said it, before leaving a wet and sloppy kiss against your jaw, your head tilting to give him more access.

Your hips began to move again, bouncing up and down on his lap, his cock sliding from within you before slamming back in each time, your breathless moans filling the room as he grunted in your ear. “Oh, yeah? What would you do?”

“Firstly, I would bend you over this couch and mark up that pretty little ass of yours. I think it would just look so good, glowing cherry red as my cock was buried in your tight little pussy. Handprints all over your skin, showing everyone exactly who you belong to.” Your eyes rolled back at the simple words, and your head rolled onto his shoulder, your legs growing tired as you shook in his grasp. His fingers slid back long your stomach, one hand guiding your hips in a lazy rhythm as the others came to play with your clit, flicking and pinching the little bundle of nerves.

“W-What else?”

“Hmm, well, I think you’d just look so good covered in lovebites, so I’d mark you up real nice, just for me to see. I’d fuck you ‘til you were screaming and shaking, begging me to stop but also begging me for more, and then, you can get on your knees while I fuck this beautiful mouth of yours until I cum, and you can swallow it all like the good girl I know you are.” His fingers pinched at your clit as he reached the end of his sentence, a cry leaving your lips as you jumped in his grasp.

The muscles in your stomach were tightening, that familiar tingling was crawling from your core and along every muscle in your body. “Please, Tommy..”

“Please, what, kitten?”

“Please fuck me like you said you would.” He seemed to pause for a moment, his nose nuzzling at your shoulder gently as he placed a kiss to your shoulder blade. “Okay.”

The minute he had spoken, you were lifted from him, a displeased whine leaving you as his cock slipped from your wet core, leaving you to clench around nothing as he spun you around. Dropping you over the couch, your knees met the cushions as your arms lay against the back, and you scrabbled to hold yourself up against it as he fingers smoothed over your ass. Pulling his hand back, he brought it down in a harsh slap, your body jolting forwards as a long moan left your lips, the skin stinging as the pain added to the pleasure infinitesimally.

He repeated the action, twice more, until your legs were rubbing together, slickness coating the inside of your thighs as you tried to relieve yourself of some of the aching need. His hands skimmed along your legs as he leaned over you, kissing along your back before prying your legs apart, coolness sweeping over your heat.

He lined himself back up, nudging himself against your clit, just to watch the way you would beg and plead him, before finally, he slammed himself back inside of you, deep and full. His name left your lips in a cry, your bottom lip held prisoner between your teeth as he set a bruising pace, hips slamming in and out of you.

One hand wrapped in your hair, pulling you upwards roughly as his other hand slipped around your waist to hold you up against him tightly. Each thrust was knocking the air from your lungs, your body giving in to him entirely as his mouth found your neck. He was sucking, biting and licking at every bit of skin he could find, your body littered with marks, just for him.

Your hand came up behind you, your fingers lacing into his hair and tightening, the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp had his hips stuttering, faltering in their pace as he groaned, and you tugged, his lips leaving your neck. “‘M so close. Kiss me, Tommy.”

He didn’t make you ask twice, his lips descending on yours, and the messy exchange could barely be described as a kiss. His lips moved fervently against yours, his hands coming up to plays with your tits, fingers tugging at your nipples and you came, your core holding around him so tightly he could barely move as he gasped into your mouth. Your eyes were rolling back, the tip of his cock pressed to your g-spot when he stilled and you spasmed in his arms, body jerking as the most intense orgasm you had ever had torn through your body.

Your head was spinning, and he slowly fucked you through the last seconds of our climax, dragging it out for as long as he could, the sounds of you screaming his name until your throat was raw being the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Finally, he pulled out, and you collapsed onto the couch cushions, body still twitching. He grunted behind you, his hand working over himself rapidly, fingers and cock glistening with your arousal and the sight alone had heat flushing your body.

He was a fucking masterpiece.

Your fingers came out shakily, gripping his wrist to slow his pace to a halt and his eyes opened to see you as you lowered yourself to the ground before him, a hazy smirk on your lips as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Thought you wanted to fuck my ‘beautiful mouth’?” Your wink urged him into action, and he pressed his hard member against your lips, groaning happily when you parted them for him to slip between. His fingers laced into your hair, his hips stuttering as he tested how far he could bury himself.

“H-Holy shit.” You gagged around him as he tapped the back of your throat, and you pushed yourself forward until your nose was brushing against the hairs as the base of his cock, feeling him twitch and throb in your mouth as desperate pleas fell from his lips. Pulling back, he slowly thrust into your mouth, his fingers pulling at your hair, your scalp burning as tears ran down your face and saliva ran down your chin, but the sounds he was making made it all worth it.

Watching him crumble above you, was a sight that you would never forget, your core already begging for more. Coming up to grip at his thighs, your nails scraped at his skin, and he exploded. Reams of hot cum shot from his tip, covering your tongue and the insides of your cheeks as you hummed around him, causing him to release a broken moan as he gave you everything he had.

You swallowed around him happily, licking and sucking him clean as you pulled back until finally, he left your mouth with a quiet ‘pop’. His hand was held out to you lazily, pulling you to your feet and his arms looped around your waist, his nose nuzzling against your temple as he sighed happily. “That was fucking incredible, kitten.”

You merely hummed, anxiety coursing through your body as you were beginning to think a little more clearly, and you pulled away from him, your cheek leaving the soft material of the shirt he’d never even taken off as you stepped back. Looking around yourself, you located your panties on the floor, tugging the lace up your legs and avoiding his eye. Gathering up all the empty bottles you could find, you ignored the rustling of his jeans as he pulled them back up his legs, and instead made your way to the kitchen.

Disposing of the bottles in the bin, you spun around, shocked slightly to find him to have followed you, his body almost pressed up against yours as he looked at you. “Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

You laughed gently at his words, your hands wringing together in front of you. “I don’t normally do this. I’m trying to make it easier for you to leave, so we don’t have to talk about it. Make it weird.”

“Leave? Why would I leave?” He stepped closer, his fingers finding your waist as he pulled you into him, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt and you avoided his eye.

“I figured now that we were done, you’d feel better, and you’d want to leave.”

His fingers found a place under your chin, tipping your face up until you were looking at him and he smiled at your softly, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “I’m not going anywhere. I kinda’ want to cuddle. I’m getting tired.” You smiled, shaking your head at him fondly and his own smile widened when he saw yours. Leaning forward, his lips brushed the shell of your ear, fingers slipping down from your hips to squeeze as your ass. “Besides, you promised me you’d let me bury my head between your thighs, and I haven’t gotten to do that yet.”

“Oh, fuck..” You murmured, and he hummed happily, kissing at your cheek as he pulled away.

“Upstairs, clothes off, on your bed. I’ll come find you, I’ll lock the front door and turn the lights off, m’kay?” You nodded quickly, letting him place a gentle kiss to your lips before you took off up the stairs. You could hear him tinkering about behind you, and you had had barely stripped your shirt from your head when his feet began hitting the stairs.

Pushing your panties back down your legs, you threw them in the vague direction of your laundry hamper, the door pushing open as you turned to face him. He paused, his gaze raking over you slowly and he swallowed thickly at the sight of you. “God, look at you..” His hand ran over his jaw, before he tugged his own shirt up and over his head, throwing it away onto the floor.

Your eyes scanned over his torso, taking in the defined lines of toned muscle, and the dark patches of hair on his chest, and the trail leading down into his undone jeans. Your fingers reached out to him, and he stepped forward to meet you, your touch grazing over his skin so light he could barely feel it.

“I thought I said I wanted you on the bed by the time I got up here?” You had no chance to reply as he leaned down, scooping your legs out from under you and tossing you back into the cushions and quilts on your bed. A squeal left your lips as you landed, and you made to shuffle back up the bed but his hand locked around your ankle, pulling you until your ass was hanging over the edge as he knelt on the floor between your legs.

Kissing his way up to your thigh slowly, you squirmed in his grasp, an unhappy whine leaving your lips as he did so. Biting at the skin gently, he finally reached where you wanted him, and he blew cold air against you, chuckling darkly at the way your hips bucked up, a gasp sounding from you.

Without warning, his arms wrapped around the outside of your thighs, tongue swiping through your folds to suck at the wetness that was already building and you moaned, hips jumping as your hands came down to thread into the dark, fluffy hair on his head. His nose nudges against your clit before he moved up to suck the swollen bud between his lips harshly. His name echoed from the walls of the room as you moaned it wantonly, the feeling of his mouth swirling and sucking at your wetness had you landing on cloud nine.

You rolled your chips upwards, grinding your hips into his face and he released something between a growl and hum against you, the feeling shooting along your body and setting your nerves alight. You were covered in goosebumps, body jumping and writhing wildly in his grasp as he pinned your hips to the bed.

Circling your entrance with his tongue, he pushed the muscle into you just slightly, letting you clench around it before he retracted it, teasing you mercilessly as you whimpered and begged for him. Finally, he gave into to you cries, plunging his tongue into you and your back arched up, leaving the bed as your fingers pulled at his hair. The sounds you were making only spurred him on, his mouth moving against you like you were his last meal as he hungered for everything you were giving him, licking you clean and moaning into your core as he went.

Your climax was building rapidly, and one of the hands holding your waist slipped down, fingers pinching at your clit and rolling it between the pads, the stimulation throwing you into another orgasm. You jerked in his grasp as you came, letting him lick you clean until the feeling of his mouth on your centre was too much, and you were pushing yourself backwards up the bed and away from his touch.

He looked up at you as you sighed happily, thoroughly spent and fucked out as you lay among the blankets, and he stood up, dropping his jeans to join the pile on the floor before crawling up the bed, collapsing next to you lazily with an arm slung over your waist. You were too tired to even pull the blankets over yourself, never mind get dressed, and you let him pull you back into his chest.

He did the work, tugging the sheets up and over our bodies as you settled into his warmth, his lips pressing occasional kisses to the back of your neck as your eyes drooped. Whatever you had to deal with tomorrow sounded like a bridge you’d cross when you reached it, but right now, you were happy just falling asleep in his arms as he held you.

You awoke with a sudden start, your eyes snapping open and you became vaguely aware of the unusual but comfortable warmth around you. Twisting slowly under the arm that was around your waist, you turned to face the man sleeping beside you, his features softened and at ease as he slept peacefully beside you.

His lips were pouted slightly in his sleep, eyebrows raised, and you traced your finger along the bridge of his nose carefully, lightly enough not to wake him before lifting his arm from your waist, rolling from the bed quietly and replacing your form with a pillow. Tugging a fresh pair of pantied up your legs and a fresh shirt over your head, you ran your fingers through your hair to tame it, before making your way down the stairs quietly.

You had set off the bacon, sausages keeping warm on plates as the toast cooked, and you tapped an egg against the side of the pan, cracking it before releasing the contents into the hot oil to sizzle. Hands found your waist, circling to rest on your stomach as you were pulled back into a warm chest. “Good morning, beautiful.”

He’d pulled his own shirt on, leaving his jeans on the floor as he’d made his way downstairs, and he pressed a kiss to the back of your head before making his way over to the fridge.

Pulling a carton of fruit juice from inside, he held it up to you for approval before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet beside your head and pouring you both a glass, setting them out on the island before making his way back to you. His knuckles ran over your arm as he leaned against his hip on the counter, watching you as you watched the food, not looking up to him. “You’re being all quiet and anxious again. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just figured you would be running as fast as you could right now when you sobered up and realised what you did.” Yu eventually spoke to him, and his touch on your arm stilled for a second before his fingers dropped to find yours, lacing them together gently.

“When I woke up this morning, I was happier than I had been in a long time. The only thing that would’ve made it better is if you would have been there with me, still in my arms.” You turned to look at him, giving him a sceptical look as you turned the hob off, reaching for a set of plates before he stopped you, turning you to face him fully. “I think I connected with you more in one drunken night - before we fucked - than I ever did with Teresa, and that’s the truth. I don’t want to rush into anything, but for now, I’d really like if we could have breakfast, and just be happy.”

You weren’t sure what to say, your lips parted as you jaw hung loose slightly and a hopeful smile flicked at his features as he watched you. Leaning in, the breath between you both shared as his nose bumped against yours, waiting for your permission before you closed the gap, a soft sigh leaving him as you did. He moved his lips against your own slowly, smiling into the kiss as he pulled away, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

The sound of keys in the front door had both of your eyes widening, and as the sound of the lock opening startled you more, you backed away from one another, your cheeks flushing as you turned back to the stove, Thomas standing awkwardly in the kitchen, unable to move before Newt approached the doorway, looking through the letters in his hands.

“Hey, you got some-” He paused as he finally looked up, eyes narrowing as he took in Thomas standing in the middle of the room, your back to him as you searched the cupboards for plates. “Tommy, hey.”

“Hey, Newt..”

“Where are your pants, mate?” Thomas’ head dropped to look at his boxer clad legs before back up to his friend, and you snickered into the cupboard, pulling out three plates and laying them on the counter before you, deciding you were clearly going to have to split the food three ways now.

“He came over to see you yesterday, but you weren’t here, so he stayed for a few drinks and didn’t want to drive home drunk.” You shrugged, and Newt hummed, pouring his own glass of juice before taking a seat at the counter. Thomas sat opposite him, cheeks still flaming red. “That doesn’t explain why you have no pants on. Why are you chasing my housemate around in your underwear?” He was teasing now, and you cleared your throat, placing a plate of food down in front of him to distract him and it seemed to work as he tucked in hungrily. You served yourself and Thomas up some breakfast as well, taking a seat and trying to avoid the tension in the air. Newt wasn’t even looking up when he next spoke, but it caught you off guard; “Nice hickies, Tommy.”

Your eyes looked to the boy’s neck, brows furrowed as his skin sat clean and Thomas lifted the salt shaker from the middle of the counter up, using it’s slightly distorted reflection to look at his neck. “I don’t have any hickies?”

“No, but (Y/N) does.” Your hands flew up to your neck as Thomas looked over, wide-eyed, before his face just cracked into a smirk, a chuckle leaving his lips and Newt proudly ate his food, looking between the two of you. “Your shorts are still hanging off the back of the couch love. Saw ‘me when I came in.”

Your head dropped into your hands in embarrassment, both of the boys laughing lowly as you cursed, whining at their continued amusement. When you finally looked back up, Newt was just shaking his head as he ate his food, and Thomas winked at you, pushing a forkful of bacon into his mouth.

“At least I don’t have to set you up on that blind date, now. Seems you found her all by yourself.”

Thomas’ eyes found yours again, and this time they were filled with something more, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at you, swallowing his food thickly before turning back to his friend.

“Yeah, I did. She’s perfect for me.”

485 notes · View notes

sherrybaby14 · 5 years

Text

Eternity

This is my entry for Darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s challenge. Congrats lady!

Prompt: “Shh, it’s okay. It’ll only hurt a little.” And I combined it with this request: I absolutely loved your Sannr Ast series😍😍 I can picture a dark! Steve/ Bucky/ Tony in a medieval AU where you are forced to be the new queen and they want to consummate their marriage but she doesn't want to 😏💕💕

Warnings: Dub-con, smut, angst, virgin reader

Summary: Princess AU. Your life gets turned upside down after a royal decree.

Pairings: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader (not a cheating fic).

A/N: I might have some wrong medieval terminology, please don’t shoot me. Also..because of passage of time your age changes through out the story, which might make it a bit off putting at first.

The bump of the road made you fold your arms and stick your tongue out.

“That’s not how a lady behaves.” Your nursemaid glared at you. “We’re almost there. Aren’t you excited to meet your future husband?”

“No.” You looked out the window, longing to escape to the forest and climb the trees, maybe find a lake. “I am never getting married.”

“Do not be ridiculous. Your father has secured a wonderful match for you.” She sighed. “This arrangement will allow the two of you to learn about one another long before the wedding bells.”

“I don’t care. I won’t like him. He will not like me.” You slouched in the seat. “I have no desire for a husband.”

“He is best friends with the Prince. You will attend court, lavish parties, eat fine foods. Your life is set.”

You ignored your maid as the castle came into view. It looked more like a prison than a palace. Maybe the boy would hate you as much as you hated him. Hate was a strong word. Maybe the two of you could have been friends, but knowing he was your fiancé made the situation too peculiar.

“Straighten your dress.” The nurse leaned forward and started poking at your hair, fluffing and changing the style. “You want to make a good first impression.”

“Do I?” Even as you asked the question you did as you were told and smoothed out your skirt. “We’ve been on the road for over a week. We look traveled and weary.”

“It will be a short introduction, then we will retire to your rooms, possibly sleep.” The nurse smiled.

“I’m to stay the entire summer? What if it is awful? Can’t we leave? I want to go home.” You felt tears form at the corner of your eyes. “I’m too young. I don’t want a husband.”

“This is the first of many summers.” Your nurse tucked a hair behind your ear. “Eventually, when you wed, this will be your home year round. Now smile.”

The carriage came to a stop. The dread in your stomach went into overdrive. You knew the greeting, the formal line of receiving, the proper behavior. As the footman opened the door and offered his hand your reluctance came forward.

“I am certain the young man is as nervous as you are dear.” Your maid took your hand and moved it to the foot man’s. “Let’s not delay any further.”

You rose from the carriage, feeling out of sorts, as if your brain was not in control of your body. There was the line of people to greet you. You scanned them and stopped upon a boy with dark hair and bright eyes. That was him.

Your heart fluttered at his good looks, but before you could stare you moved to the next and your jaw dropped at the blonde next to him. It was Prince Steven, you recognized the portraits. Your betrothed really was the Prince’s best friend.

When your feet hit the ground, the Prince snickered and nudged James Barnes forward. He scowled as he walked up to meet you.

“You are a little girl.” His eyes looked you up and down. “Is this a joke?”

He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than you and you scoffed at the suggestion.

“I am thirteen years old.” You clenched your fists. “Hardly a child.”

“Do I really have to spend all summer with her?” James turned to look at his parents.

You saw the anger on their faces, but noticed the grin the Prince wore. As far as introductions went this was the opposite of what you were expecting, but were relieved. Manners didn’t seem to matter here.

“James!” His mother chastised him. “Remember what we discussed.”

“Lady Y/L/N, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Welcome to our kingdom.” He didn’t hide the sneer in his voice.

“Master Barnes, I am not pleased to make your acquaintance. I do not want to marry you and I hope to spend my summer avoiding you at all costs.” You held your chin high.

“Y/N.” Your nurse gasped. “Please excuse us. It has been a long journey. I believe the lady is tired.”

“Of course.” Lady Barnes gave a sad smile. “Let us show you to your rooms.”

As your trunks were unloaded you followed with a new goal for the summer: make yourself scarce or scary. If he objected enough maybe you could get out of this arrangement after all.

~~ You were giddy when your estate came into view. Home after a terrible long summer. You stuck your head out the window and waved to your parents. Too eager for the carriage to stop you flung open the door and jumped out.

“Stop!” Your nurse cried out, but it was too late.

You ran to your parents and through yourself into their arms.

“How was it? We missed you dear.” Your mother held you tight.

“It was terrible.” Your nurse was right behind you, breathing heavily. “They spent the entire summer bickering at each other, if they even spent any time together at all. I swear she forgot all of her lessons on decorum.”

“What was the Prince like?” Your little sister chimed in.

“Quiet.” You pulled away from the hug. “What the Nurse said was right. It is not a good match.”

“If you spent the summer fighting, sounds like a perfect match.” Your father laughed and shook his head. “Time will tell.”

You scowled, but your sister grabbed your hand and tugged you inside. And you were eager to hear how her months had been. ~~

The next summer was worse. They forced you to spend time together.

“I bet you don’t know how to shoot one of these.” James pulled out an arrow and aimed for the bullseye. “Too busy reading or learning cross-stitch.”

He fired the arrow, barely making it on to the target. Prince Steve seemed to be the only exception to your private time, as he was always glued to James’ side, rarely speaking.

You rolled your eyes and took the bow, lining up an arrow.

“My father has no sons.” You let the quiver go, unsurprised when it hit the center. “He insists on a well rounded education.”

Steve started to laugh as James’ face fell.

“I would offer to teach you, but I do not think your brain is capable of handling the lesson.” You dropped the bow. “I suppose that is enough for today.”

You walked off the yard, head held high, dreading the next time they forced the two of you together.

Summer number three was more entertaining. You had made a friend with one of the guards and each night awaited your little chats. It made your forced time with James easier, since you had something to look forward to.

“How is your boyfriend?” James asked as he walked into the library.

“Excuse me?” You lowered your book.

“You shouldn’t be flirting like that.” He sat down next to you.

“Are you jealous?” Your eyes went wide.

“No.” He sneered, but a smile crept on your face. “What are you reading?”

“You care?” You knew he was sent here, not by choice.

“No.” He relaxed his features. “But if we have to spend time together, may as well make it interesting. Tell me the story?”

Prince Steve stepped forward and began scanning the walls, looking for a book and ignoring you. You wondered why he wasn’t courting his own future princess.

“Alright.” You started filling James in, there were worse ways to pass the time.

Summer number four came and your flirting friend disappeared from the castle. You weren’t as upset as you thought.

It was more of the same, only now you were old enough to attend some of the nighttime events.

“May I have this dance?” James offered you his hand.

The looks from his parents told you it was an order, but he did look handsome in his dress and you placed your hand in his as he led you to the dance floor.

“You look lovely.” He glanced at the floor as he spoke.

“That sounded genuine.” You were shocked. “Where is the snarl afterward?”

“No snarl.” James looked up at you. “I mean it. You look lovely Lady.”

A smile crept on your face as he spun you around. He was handsome. Something in your stomach fluttered, and for the first time, it wasn’t a feeling of dread.

The fifth summer you were almost excited when you arrived. James stepped forward from the receiving line and took your hand.

“Welcome Lady Y/L/N.” He placed a small kiss. “I am happy for your safe travels.”

“The long journey is worth the destination.” You smiled.

The forced spending time together stopped. You found yourself seeking out James’ company. He was always with the Prince, who continued his indifference toward you. But the three of you took walks, went for rides on the horses, even took turns choosing books to read together. It was more fun than you’d imagined.

The final night of your stay was another ball. You’d spent the summer dancing away in James’ arms and tonight you were sad it was the last time. When the song stopped he did not drop your hand, instead he led you out to the balcony to look at the castle grounds.

“I will miss you.” He leaned over the railing. “May I write to you?”

“I would like that.” You gave a coy smile, trying hard to fight the instinct to babble away to him. “And I will miss you too.”

“Next summer, its our wedding.” There was a nervousness to his voice. “Does that please you?”

“I suppose.” You bit back the urge to tell him you were thrilled with the prospect.

“It pleases me.” He stood straight up and turnt toward you. “Very much.”

You thought you were going to melt. Then his hand reached out and tucked a lock of your hair back, his fingertips dragging across your skin. His heavenly blue eyes focused on yours as his face dipped down.

Your first kiss. You’d wanted this all summer. Your lips began to pucker, eager to feel his touch them. He was moments away when a loud crunching sound made both of your necks turn.

Prince Steve stood at the doorway. His face was red with embarrassment.

“Apologies.” He spun on his heel and walked inside.

You looked back at James, but he kept his eyes on his friend.

“I should go see what that was about.” He moved to follow, leaving you alone on the balcony.

You were bitter over the lack of lips, but also tingly at the thought of what was to come. One year from now you would be a married woman, with the love of your life. ~~

The letters were poetic and beautiful. You spent the entire trip reading them over and over, focusing on the last line of the latest one:

I love you.

It was so simple, but so intoxicating. James loved you and you were about to become Lady Barnes. You could not wait to start your life.

“Are we there yet?” Your sister yawned.

This trip was different. This was your wedding. There would be no end to your stay and your entire family came along.

“Yes.” You smiled as the castle came into view, sticking your head out the window.

“Stop that.” Your mother touched your thigh. “We all now how eager you are, but you must behave like a lady.”

“Three days.” You leaned back in your seat. “Three days. It feels like an eternity.”

“After you will have eternity together.” Your mother smiled. “You can wait three days.”

When your carriage came to a stop you waited for the footman, wishing you could throw the rules out the window and dive out, running into James’ arms.

The door opened and a hand was offered. Your mother went first and it seemed like she was taking her time. Such a contrast to that first summer six years ago.

It was your turn and you were grinning so large your face hurt. When you stepped out you scanned the receiving line and your smile began to fade. Where was James?

“Oh my.” Your mother bowed. “Your majesties.”

It dawned on you who was there. The king, the queen, and Prince Steve. Why would the royal family be here to greet you? You expected Steve at the wedding, but didn’t think his parents would attend.

“Please stand.” The king stepped forward. “May I have a word with you Lord?”

“Of course.” Your father went to meet the king and your mother followed with the queen.

You looked at Steve with shock as he came forward.

“What is happening? Where is James?” You feared the worst. “Is he sick or injured? His letters mentioned nothing.”

“I don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “I was told to come meet you and that my parents were attending. I expected him to arrive as well. I saw him last night and all was well.”

“Do you suppose he changed his mind about me? Is the engagement off?” You walked next to Steve.

“You’re wonderful Lady.” Steve offered you his arm. “He would be a fool to do so.”

Your brain wracked with worry and fear you didn’t speak as Steve led you to your room. Where was James?

You paced, knowing exactly where James’ quarters were. Should you go there and pound on his door? It would scandalous, but you were to be married in three days. Those would become your quarters as well then.

The waiting was killing you. You went to the door ready to storm the halls, but it opened before you got to the handle. Your parents walked in, beaming.

“What has happened? Where is James? Is he alright?” Your fear contrasted their glee.

“The most wonderful situation.” Your mother took your hands as your father placed his on your shoulder.

“Has the wedding been moved up?” Maybe that’s why he wasn’t there. He was busy preparing.

“Yes. Tomorrow.” Your mother wiped a tear. “But that is not the most glorious part.”

“Tell me.” Your patience was running out.

“You’re to become the queen.” Your father squeezed your shoulder. “A match I never would have dreamed of.”

“Queen?” You dropped your mother’s hand and stepped out of your father’s touch. “Was there a royal decree? Is James now a prince?”

“James is no longer the groom.” Your father’s smile did not falter. “You have made quite an impression the past few summers and the king and queen believe you will make the perfect daughter-in-law.”

“What?” All feeling from your body dropped. “Steve? I’m to marry Steve?”

Images of your time together flashed before your eyes, the way he was so quiet, lurking in the background. His eyes on you as your danced with James, the crunch that broke your kiss.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t love him. I want James.”

The joy on your father’s face turned to anger. Your mother put a hand on his chest.

“I am sure what she means is that the news is stunning, but she is thrilled with the development.” Your mother calmed your father. “What a way to honor your family and your kingdom. A crown. You will be a fine queen.”

“Does Steve know?” You thought back to your earlier conversation with him.

“Already so informal.” Your father’s smile returned. “What a match.”

Your mother began discussing changes to the wedding and the dress that was being delivered, but you zoned out wondering two things: how could this be happening and where was James?

You were under strict orders not to leave your room until it was time for the wedding. There would be no speaking to Steve or finding James. In order to appease your parents, you agreed, but when bedtime approached and sleep never came you rolled out of bed and made your way into the halls.

Familiar enough to not need a light to guide you while you crept to James’ rooms. When you arrived you debated on knocking, but didn’t want to risk drawing attention.

When you pushed open the door you noticed a lit fire. James rose from his seat, his hair longer and blue eyes illuminated by the flames. Your heart felt like it was drawn towards him, tugging at your chest.

“James!” All your fears fell away when you rushed to him, throwing you arms around his neck. “They say I’m to marry Steve. I don’t understand. It’s all happening so fast and I’ve missed you. And I love you.”

He smiled at you, but there was pity on his face. He reached behind and grabbed your wrists pulling them off and in front of his chest.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He shook his head. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

“You don’t care?” This was not the response you were expecting. “But you’re my betrothed, I love you.”

“A part of me will always love you too.” He let go of your hands. “You’re to be queen. I am happy for you, and for Steve.”

“I don’t want the crown. I want you.” You pressed your hands to his chest. “Let’s run away. Steal horses and flee. We can live a simple life.”

“I am getting my own castle in the south.” James smiled at you. “I will be the leader of the region. I’ve been made a duke.”

You studied his face, unsure how he could be serious. Your hands on his chest felt foolish as you took a step back.

“This is for the best.” James gave a half smile. “Return to your room and get some sleep. There is no finer person fit for the crown. I will see you at the wedding. I am sure you will look lovely.”

Your world was spinning out of control. Tears on the verge of breaking through. You would not let him see you cry. You turned away and went for the door, heaving yourself into the hallway before a sob broke loose. How could this be happening?

When you turned to your room you hit something hard and bounced back, almost hitting the floor when strong arms grabbed you. You were found out of your room, but you didn’t care. Whatever punishment coming could not be worse than the broken heart you were feeling.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice brought you no comfort. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you know?” You tried to hide the shake in your voice.

“No.” Steve’s hands steadied you. “I was a surprised as you were. I came here to talk to James, try and find a solution.”

“He doesn’t love me.” You let the sob come out and fell forward. “It was all a lie.”

“That’s not true.” Steve touched your back as you sobbed against his chest. “That would make him a fool.”

“I was supposed to marry him. My entire life, I don’t understand.” You cried into Steve. “We have to stop this. I can’t be with you. I don’t love you.”

“We will figure out a way.” Steve continued to comfort you. “I promise.”

The tension in your shoulders rolled out. Steve was on the same page as you, at least that was a relief.

“How?” You wiped your eyes and looked up. “The wedding is tomorrow.”

“And we will wed.” Steve wiped a tear away. “Worry about the rest later.”

“Promise?” At least part of your broken heart had some stability.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” Steve put his arm around your shoulder. “Everything will work out. I promise.”

You believed him. All James needed was time. Steve seemed to respect your decision. You would go through the wedding for appearances and find a way to sneak off with James. The life you dreamt of was still possible.

In the morning your nerves were in over drive to the point you couldn’t focus on anything. The maids came and dressed you, doing you hair and make up as well. The black and silver gown your father paid for was disregarded as the Royals provided you with a red and blue one, the color of their own house over that of the Barnes.

“You look so beautiful.” Your mother brought her hand to her mouth as her eyes welled.

You hadn’t thought much about appearances, but when you were spun to see the mirror the image staring back at you was that of a stranger. Perfect complexion, perfect hair, and the gown accentuated your body like it was made for you, of course it was made for you.

Go through with the wedding for appearances. Then Steve would find a way to help you out of this. He promised. You shut your eyes and repeated the thought in your head, over and over.

A knock came on the door, snapping you back to reality.

“It’s time.” Your mother grabbed your hand and gave one final squeeze.

Your father was on the other side, offering you his arm. He beamed at you and guilt set in. He shouldn’t be so proud. Once the night was over you were going to bring shame on your entire family. James was worth it.

The walk through the palace was silent. Every soul was in the main chapel for your wedding. You neared the doors and felt a shiver run through you. This was all for show. You reminded yourself of that as the doors pulled open.

Everyone rose, their eyes on you. Some gasped at the sight. It was undeserved attention. Your eyes scanned the crowd, but stopped at the top of the alter. There was Steven, you had seem him in finery, but never like this.

You had never paid much attention to his looks, always distracted by James, but there was no doubt he was equal in attractiveness if not more so. You shook away the thought. What did it matter? James was your love.

As you walked down the aisle you tried to focus on Steve, knowing that scanning the crowd would draw suspicion and also terrified that one look at James would break your spirit. He said he was here. Was he smiling? Happy for you? Was there no love left in his heart? Tears started to form.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the world.” Steve kissed your cheek and shook hands with your father. “I am a lucky man.”

His word choice was odd, but you assumed it was for the benefit of your father. Before you had time to ponder it, the ceremony began. It was one ritual after the next, repeating words in a language you did not understand.

At one point your hands were bound together, another a beautiful diamond crown placed on your head. The officiant continued with his strange words and you repeated them. Finally he went to prepare something and you whispered to Steve:

“What did I just say?” You gave him a stolen glance.

“That you bound your soul to mine for all eternity.” His eyes narrowed on you with a flash of possession.

It made a small whimper escape your throat, but before you could follow up the officiant returned.

“From this day forward you are one. The Prince and Princess Rogers, until the day you are King and Queen Rogers.” He put a hand on both your shoulders and spun you to face one another. “Seal this union.”

Steve put his hands on your waist and pulled you tight to him. His head dropped and he kissed you with a fever. His lips hard on your own as he urged you to part. This was your first and you didn’t know how to respond, so you followed his lead as his tongue slid into your mouth.

The congregation roared with applause and Steve’s kiss departed. He pulled away and looked at you with a devilish grin. You didn’t think you’d ever seen this level of emotion on his face before. He grabbed your hand and gave it a kiss before turning and waving.

The stun of his actions wore off as you saw the joy in the crowd. Your heart broke a little more that this was all a show. They seemed to like you, but you would never be their Queen.

Right away the festivities started. People arriving to give you gifts, dancing, eating, and drinking. Your eyes always searching for James, but never seeing him. Steve was too busy receiving congratulations to have a real conversation with you. He did ask if you were alright and remind you to smile several times, but this was not the place to discuss your plans.

You were lost in the whirl of it all. The colors, the joy. A stark contrast to your own nerves and worries. A deep thought had taken hold over the disappoint you were about to bring.

“Congratulations to the happy couple.” The voice shook you.

“James.” You started to stand, but Steve held your hand.

“Thank you, Duke Barnes.” Steve smiled. “When will you be leaving us for your new home?”

“In the morning.” James smiled. “I will be back to visit in a year. Maybe there will be a niece or nephew to play with by then?”

James playfully punched at Steve, who stood from the chair and gave his friend a giant hug.

“I will miss you.” Steve pulled away.

Both of them looked at each other with sheer joy. Did James already know of the plan? Were you to sneak away with him? It was confusing, this attitude.

“Now that you have a wife, I don’t think you will have time to miss me.” James dropped the embrace. “And you, what a lovely Queen the kingdom will have.”

“Thank you…” You looked between the two of them, unsure if this was a ruse.

“The evening is about to come to an end.” James looked back to Steve. “I suppose for the two of you it’s only getting started.”

“You always were a boar.” Steve nudged James.

“Better a boar than a bore.” He winked. “I wish nothing but the best for both of you. Congratulations.”

James shook Steve’s hand and gave you a bow. The tears started to form again. You bit back every urge to throw yourself at him, tell him how much you loved him, how you needed him, how you would be following soon. He must have known that. It was the only explanation.

“Breathe my love.” Steve leaned over and grabbed your chin, turning your attention to him. “Breathe.”

“What was that?” Why was he calling you his love? “You promised. That you would help me get back to James?”

“No.”Steve slid his hand down your cheek. “I promised that we would find a way. For you to love me.”

Your eyes went wide with horror as you replayed the situation in your head. It went further back, all the days you spent with them, the way Steve’s eyes were on you, always lurking, never talking. Never leaving you alone with James.

“You set this up. You tricked me.” What were the words. Bound your soul to his for all eternity. “Why?”

“Because I love you.” Steve’s brow furrowed. “Because I loved you since the moment you stepped out of that wagon.”

“But I love James.” You thought about the letters. “And he loves me too.”

“Oh, you are so innocent my Love.” Steve caressed your cheek. “James loves anyone that can stand on two legs. You would struggle to find a woman, and some men, in attendance he hasn’t spent time between their thighs.”

A lump in your throat formed.

“You’re lying.” You blinked away the tears. “We belong together.”

“Me on the other hand, I’ve had a tryst or two, but only when I am imaging your face.” A hunger came over him as he took you in. “I worship you. I would die for you. Give you a kingdom. If my parent’s wouldn’t have agreed to the union I would have denounced my thrown and ran away with you.”

“But I don’t want to run away with you.” You started to shake. “I never had.”

The pressure of his hand on your face increased as his blue eyes grew darker.

“I wouldn’t have asked permission.” His pupils grew larger. “Don’t for a second think you ever had a life with another. I would have taken you, shown you how to love me. All the months you returned to your home, to you know the agony is caused me? Now we will never be apart.”

“I…I…,” you didn’t get the words out before a bell started to ring.

“Thank you all for the wonderful gifts, attention, and pleasure of your company.” The King rose. “Please stay until the wine goes dry, but I fear my son and his beautiful wife do not have that privilege.”

A sound of ooooos came from the crowd. Before you knew what was happening your chair was hoisted into the air. A roaring applause came as Steve’s was as well.

“Wait…STOP…” Nobody could hear you over the applause as the group of men carrying your seats moved to exit.

You thought about how you’d jumped out of the carriage after your first summer, eager to be back with your family. You wanted to jump out now, run to them for safety. But then you looked down and noticed one of the people holding Steve’s chair. James.

There was nothing but pure joy on his face. He was happy for you. Truly. Were you fooled? Was his love false? How could he have loved you and take you to bed for another? Steve was telling the truth. It was all a lie. Your heart broke all over again.

Everything was happening too fast for your brain to comprehend. To make matters worse, when you were dropped off in Steve’s suite the room was breath-taking. Gigantic, decorated in bright blues and deep reds. The bed was larger than you thought possible.

“I know you’re scared Princess.” Steve was in front of you, he started to take off his jacket. “But we are man and wife. You will learn to love me. That I did promise.”

You were still focusing on James’ betrayal. It wasn’t until you looked up to see Steve peel off his shirt you realized you had other things to worry about. You spun to look away, but the image of his torso was glued to your mind.

“Please. I can’t. Too much has happened.” You wrapped your hand around your mid section and braced yourself against a love seat. “Not tonight.”

Steve approached you, his hands went to the bindings on your gown. They started to loosen and you held yourself tighter.

“I’ve never been kissed before today…I couldn’t…please…if you love me you will wait.” The tears started to fall.

“That fact brings me more joy than you could comprehend.” Steve pushed your dress down, leaving your shoulders bare. “All mine. For all eternity.”

You sniffled as his lips met your bare back. If you dropped your arm you would be nude for him.

“Please no.” The beg came out like a squeak. “This is not right. I am not ready.”

His mouth vanished, but before you felt any relief he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you to his chest as he went to the bed. You knew the tradition and saw the white sheets exposed.

“I’ve felt enough pain the last two days. My heart cannot handle any more.” You tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he was too strong.

“Shhhh…it’s okay. It’ll only hurt a little.” Steve sat down on the bed, still cradling you. “I promise, once the pain subsides I will bring you much pleasure.”

“If you really love me, you won’t do this.” You looked up at him with glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“It is because I love you that I must.” He kissed your forehead. “If I don’t consummate, they will take you away from me. And nobody will take you from me. Ever.”

His eyes flashed with evil lust again as his words worked their way through your body. You had to stop this.

“I don’t love you.” You shook your head.

“Then let me teach you.” His head dipped.

You quaked as his lips met yours and he laid you down, spinning his body so it was on top of you. In a moment of confusion you moved your arms to his chest and he lifted himself, pulling down your gown.

A yelp left your mouth, stifled by his as he pulled the garment down, leaving the two of you naked against each other.

You tried to squirm back, but he moved with you, peeling the dress even further. The room felt like water and you were drowning in him as his tongue moved against yours, his cock pressed against your sex.

His mouth moved away and you twisted your head to the side, trapped below him.

“I don’t want this.” It was the truth.

Then you felt a sensation like no other as his hand moved between your legs, fingers gliding up your sex. Steve held them in front of your face. You noticed the glistening slick.

“Your body does.” His lips kissed your neck, biting and pulling at your skin. “No one is every going to love you as much as I do.”

He moved his hand back between your body and you felt another piece of his body coat itself in your juices.

“Let me love you.” He stopped, his cock at your entrance.

You braced yourself for the pain, but it didn’t come as his body stilled. You opened your eyes and looked up at him. Worry was plastered all over his face.

“Please? Can I love you?” All of his features were alive.

You felt yourself crumple underneath him. You wanted to scream no, shove him off, but the look on his face, the patience. You had no response. His hand came up and he brought his thumb to his mouth, licking the digit before moving it between you.

“What are you…”. You didn’t get the question out before your body was met with pleasure.

He found some spot and pressed his thumb to it. Your back had arched and a moan left you as he rubbed, sending a strange sensation through you.

“Stop…” It came out like a whimper.

“Shhhh Princess. Let me love you. Please?” His mouth was on your neck again.

Whatever Steve was doing your chest started to heave. He was igniting something inside of you, something you’d only dreamt of. You stopped biting back the moans and let them come forward, almost forgetting that his shaft was close to spearing your innocence.

Your hands went from fisting the sheets to squeezing his arms as he worked you, stroking and rubbing. Putting pressure in circles.

“Please…” it came out as a whisper.

“What was that?” Steve raised his head. “Say it again?”

“Please.” Your body had taken complete control.

A shriek and shake left you as he pushed inside, his thumb distracting you from the stretch and burn his cock caused. You tried to twist your body away, feeling like you couldn’t handle his love. You didn’t know if you meant mentally or physically. Probably both.

“I can’t.” You went for his shoulders and dug your nails in. “It hurts.”

Steve pushed down harder with his thumb and your legs relaxed as you squeaked, coming undone for him.

“Shhhh.” He pushed forward more, sliding through your resistance.

He came to a settle and his thumb disappeared. He flexed his body down and you realized his pelvis had taken it’s place.

“You’ve done so well.” He peppered your shoulder with kisses. “I’m all the way inside.”

That was it. Your virginity was over. Bound to him for eternity.

“You’ve ruined me.” You didn’t pull away, but rocked your body against his, wanting the friction back.

“You ruined me the moment we met.” He kissed your lips. “It’s only fair I return the favor.”

He ground his body against yours, making you ache for more of him. Then he started pulling out, you whined when his body left yours and purred when it returned. Who were you? What was this? Did you care?

“For all eternity.” Steve grunted with his thrusts. “An endless lifetime together.”

Your mind was gone, your brain fogged over. You reached up and grabbed his chin.

“I promise.” You lifted your head as you rocked your hips. “Eternity.”

Steve let out an animalistic noise and stopped holding back. The burn subsided with need and you kissed him with instinct, not training. The pressure in your core went to overload, unable to handle the way he filled and touched you.

Was it him? Was it always him? Tears stung your eyes for different reasons as you worked together. A loud moan left your mouth as your toes curled, euphoria spreading through your entire being. A feeling you never knew possible.

Your vision blackened and your body convulsed. What was this magic? Was he more than a prince? Soon he stilled inside of you, causing a strange vibration. He was laying his seed, truly owning you.

Instead of fighting back or resisting you welcomed it.

Once he left your body consciousness had vanished. It felt like you were floating as he rolled you away, your eyes fluttering to see the blood and fluid on the sheets he was required to hang outside the room.

This was your life. Your strange Prince, who would love you until the end of time.

#steve rogers x reader #stever rogers au #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #princess #medeival #captain america #Bucky Barnes

2K notes · View notes

blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Worth It- Pt. 2

Read Part 1

Summary: The reader has a brief encounter with Sean.

Characters: Marcel x black!reader, OMC x black!reader, Klaus x black!reader????

A/N: This part was really fun to write. I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I did to write it. Also, your girl is feeling a bit confident writing for Klaus so more fics with him might be coming soon. Happy holidays!

“Listen just tell momma and daddy that they either need the get with the program or get left. Because a man as fine as Marcel Gerard is mmph!” Your sister, Bianca emphasized with a chef’s kiss. She was probably the only one in your family, who approved of your relationship with Marcel. Bianca always said love is love and anyone who tries to stop it is just bitter.

“But I do say, you should get a little taste of Sean. Marcel is a refined gentleman, but Sean is hoodnificent! Let him crack that back at least once.”

You stopped gathering the herbs around your shop, to pinch Bianca’s arm for suggesting something so outrageous. “Girl, are you crazy? Marcel will have the boy’s head on a stick, and I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“FIONNNE!” Bianca commented.

Both of you were too busy arguing with each other to hear the door chimes, but the voice that spoke got your attention. “Indeed, Marcellus would have the boy’s head on a stick. I taught him well.”

“Klaus, what are you doing here?”

He lingered around the shop, touching little trinkets, trying his best to intimidate you. “Imagine my surprise when I walk downstairs to see Diego and Thierry knocked out and you missing.” Now he was dangerously close, whispering into your ear, wrapping one your curls around his finger. “I do believe Marcel instructed you that you couldn’t leave the house without supervision.”

“Girl, add him to the list too. I bet he does all types of nasty things in the bed.” Bianca whispered into your other ear.

Klaus maneuvered his head around you to look at Bianca. He was giving her that famous smirk of his. “Would you like to find out?”

You moved in front of your sister to block her view of Klaus, because she would definitely take him up on his offer. “Nuh uh. None of that, you hear me?” You pointed at the two. “Anyway, the reason I ditched the bodyguards is that I have a business to run. A business that is frequented by witches. Witches hate vampires. So, don’t you think two vampire bodyguards, especially two that are Marcel’s best friends are bad for business?”

“Ok, then I’ll stay. I don’t need to suffer through Marcel’s groaning about how you were left unsupervised.”

“Oh no, you’re not! The witches hate you even more!” Your protest went unanswered as Bianca asked about his baby and he proceeded to show her pictures. Both ignored you, so you just went about your business as usual.

Customers would walk in and do a double take once they saw Klaus. Some would try to leave, but Klaus told them to ignore him and some would get over it and listen to him, but with others Klaus had to calmly threaten to remove their head from their shoulders for them to continue to shop. You didn’t know if you should be mad or grateful, but at the end of the day you were still making money.

It was getting close to closing time when a last-minute customer walked in. You were busy stocking the shelves, so you didn’t have a chance to see who it was. “Welcome, we’re about to close in ten minutes, but I can help you with whatever you need.”

You felt a tap on your thigh, and you looked down to see probably one of the most beautiful chocolate men you’ve ever seen. “I need you to get down, cher before you hurt yourself,” said the stranger. Before you could reprimand him for touching you, he put his hands on your hips and pulled you from the shelf.

“Who the hell do you think you are putting your hands on me?” Klaus watched the scene closely but didn’t intervene. He knew you could hold your own and would only get involved if necessary.

“I’m your fiancé,” he smiled, revealing a bottom row of a gold grill. Bianca was right Sean is hoodnificent. His attire was all black accented by gold jewelry. He had on a turtleneck and a gold chain and the Lord knows you’re a sucker for that combo.

(Sean’s face claim)

You just noticed he had two other witches with him when Marcel, Thierry, and Diego burst through the doors. Sean lifted your hand to his lips, “Until we meet again, chérie.” With a blink of an eye him and the other witches disappear.

“Search the whole damn Quarter! I want him found!” Marcel ordered Diego and Thierry. When his eyes met yours, you knew you were in deep shit. He was at the level of pissed off that he didn’t even acknowledge Bianca or Klaus. He just grabbed your hand, shoved you into the car, and drove to the Mikaelson’s.

“Are you going to talk to me or continue to give me the silent treatment?” You were back at the manor, sitting at the dining table watching Marcel pace back and forth. He hadn’t said a word to you since you were in the car.

Nodding to yourself, you got up to leave. “Ok, the silent treatment. Let me take my black ass home then.”

Marcel moved in front of you and back you into your seat. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Oh, ladies and gentlemen he talks!”

“Stop fucking trying me, Y/N.” Marcel warned you.

“Stop treating me like a fucking child then, Marcel!” Granted, you didn’t listen to his instructions, but you really tried. You lasted 3 days before you started getting antsy and tired of constantly being followed. Today was the sixth day when you made your escape and you felt that you could finally breath. “I can’t do it Marcel. I’m not meant to be locked up like some criminal.”

“You think that’s what I’m doing? All I’m trying do is save our relationship!”

“Like you do with New Orleans? Trying to stifle me and make me follow your rules? You know why my parents hate the idea of me dating you? Its because you ran the wolves out the quarter and forbade any witch from doing magic! You can’t control people like that. Its not right!”

“And your parents making you marry someone against your will is not the same?” He asked, getting closer to you.

Sneering your face, you replied, “Well, if you weren’t such a power-hungry asshole, they wouldn’t be making me.”

Marcel rolled his tongue around his mouth. “That’s how you really feel, huh? After knowing why, I forbade the witches from using magic?”

You cupped his cheeks, showing the first sign of affection since the incident at your shop. “I get why. You did it to save Davina but know she’s safe and you’re still trying to control everyone. New Orleans does not solely belong to just the vampires, or just the wolves, or just the witches. It belongs to everyone. But everyone is too damn selfish to see that. But hey, do what you gotta do. I’m gonna go to bed if that’s alright with you.”

Before you walked off, Marcel gave you a soft peck to your lips and murmured good night against your lips. No matter how pissed off he was at you, he couldn’t go without telling or showing you that he loved you.

“Now that’s the Queen of the Quarter,” Marcel heard Vincent say. Him and Klaus were standing next to each other, smirking at Marcel.

“How long have you two been listening?”

“Long enough to know that you better smarten up or you’ll lose the lovely Y/N to that witch or to someone more dashing.” Klaus informed him.

He ran up to Klaus and punched him in his jaw. “I’m not in the mood, Klaus.” Klaus got up and chuckle at him, not even mad that Marcel punched him.

“I can’t help it if your girlfriend is so charming.” Klaus teased some more.

Vincent shook his head and got in between the two vamps, before a real fight broke out. “Can you not antagonize him, man? Dude’s already on edge.”

Klaus sidestepped Vincent to get to Marcel. “Nope. Not until he tells us the real reason, he’s so mad.” Klaus circled Marcel, trying to gauge his reaction.

“He’s pissed because Y/N left, plain and simple.”

Raising a finger and ticking his head no, Klaus replied, “No, that’s not it. We all expected Y/N to break out. A woman like that, you can’t keep caged in.” Klaus stopped circling Marcel and stood in front of him, staring him down with a condescending smirk. “I wager the King of the Quarter was upset of the sight he saw tonight. It was but for a fleeting moment, but there, nonetheless. Y/N was intrigued by her witchy suitor. Before he thought of the witch as an annoyance, but tonight proved he might be more competition than he hoped for. Am I right?”

His nostrils flared as Marcel listened to Klaus correctly pinpoint his anger. When Marcel saw Sean’s hands on you and you not being immediately turned off made him worry. Sean was obviously closer to you in age and you both had similar upbringings. But the thing that worried Marcel the most was the one thing Sean could give you that he couldn’t, a baby.

“If I’m not back by the time Y/N wakes up, tell her I’m out doing business.” Marcel informed Klaus. He had to find and kill Sean before he could steal you away from him.

Tags: @twistedcharismaaa @l-auteuse @thickemadame @artsninspo @titty-teetee @cocooned-butterfly @dannixchristian

#marcel #marcel gerard #marcel x reader #marcel x black!reader #marcel gerard fanfiction #marcel gerard x black!reader #marcel gerard x reader #the originals fanfic #the originals fanfiction #the originals #black!reader #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #klaus mikaleson #klaus mikaleson x black!reader

216 notes · View notes

thegildedlady · 3 years

Text

The Banewood

Her feet couldn’t carry her fast enough. The whoops and cries of eager Hopebreakers beginning their hunt sent a chilling ripple through Ciaragan’s body as she flew through the Banewood. Clumps of magenta grass and black earth were kicked free as she stumbled down the steep, sloping hills and made her way towards the center of the cursed valley with nothing but her wits to protect her. Ciaragan could picture the smug, sneering face of Nimena perfectly in her mind- what a cruel joke this was. To be hunted down like an animal was humiliating to the prideful priestess, but she had little choice in whether or not she ran. A pack of gargons were hot on the trail of the unfortunate souls chosen as this evening’s prey, ensuring that all participated. The fear of what happened to those who were caught was enough to keep Ciaragan’s legs in perpetual motion. She dipped below a layer of fog hanging above the bottom of the mire, her foot missing a step and slipping out from under her. She slid the rest of the way down until she finally tumbled into a mucky puddle at the base of the hill.

Ciaragan was covered in fresh scrapes, mud, and grass but could afford little time to clean herself up. She rose from the forest floor and rolled back into a steady running pace. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for any signs of danger- the Venthyr weren’t the only beasts roaming these woods- but found little besides a blur of a treescape before her. A flash of blue would occasionally catch her eye, another prideful soul running the gauntlet. She watched from the corner of her vision as one iridescent wisp was ripped back into the disappearing darkness, but couldn’t spare them a second glance.

The others be damned, she thought as her chest began to tighten, I can’t let them catch me. I won’t let them catch me.

Minutes passed with nothing but the heavy huff of her breath and the crunch of debris underfoot having made a sound. Ciaragan thought for a moment that she may have actually outran the bunch and allowed herself to feel the tiniest tinge of satisfaction. She hooked around the trunk of a great tree to rest just a moment, her hand reaching out to lean on the twisted bark. Suddenly, enshrouded in mist, two figures emerged from behind another oak. Ciaragan pressed her body against the tree, trying to appear as small as possible. Maybe they had not spotted her. There was only one way to be certain…

A single gold eye peeked out from behind the trunk, cutting through the hazy darkness. Her vision landed on the couple again, who had come closer into view. Even in this place of gloom and dread, Ciaragan had no trouble recognizing the face of her twin. Faervell was there, just beyond her reach. She had to slap her hand over her own mouth to stop from crying out for him. Whoever was with him remained partially hidden behind Faervell’s large form, but from her hiding space Ciaragan could tell it was not Esme (her orange flame of hair would stick out like a sore thumb here). A quick glance over each shoulder to ensure they were alone, and Ciaragan pulled her hand away to uncover her mouth. Her voice scratched raw against her throat, no more than a strained whisper.

“Faer! Over here! It’s me!”

He did not respond. Whoever the smaller figure was had him enraptured in conversation. Ciaragan squinted to stretch her vision. Who was this creature? What could be more important than the impending doom hunting them down? She shimmied around the tree trunk, exposing her hiding place to them in the hopes that he might actually hear her this time.

“Faervell! It’s your sister! Let’s go!”

Faervell’s eyes flickered upward from the conversation to land on his sister’s frantic expression. The gentle smile that graced his lips had fallen away when their eyes made contact and he just...stared at her. Ciaragan’s brow furrowed in frustration. Before she could call out to him again, the tiny figure stepped to the forefront and revealed herself. She was human, that was obvious. Her skin was pale and shone like the moon against the deep blue forest. Her hair was dark, nearly black. She was beautiful, in a frail, human sort of way. Despite the unfamiliar environment, it took no deliberation on Ciaragan’s part. She knew this woman intimately well.

“Vinessa…”

Her name slid through Ciaragan’s clenched teeth. The realization hit her in continuous waves of anger and shame. All thoughts of the encroaching hunt were lost to Ciaragan now. She could focus on nothing but the scene playing out in front of her- one that had played before in her darkest moments.

Vinessa seemed to be aware of the fate Ciaragan had cooked up for her and clung to Faervell’s arm with well-deserved fear. This only enraged the onlooker further. Ciaragan wanted to spit at the sight of it- such weakness is what disgusted her about the human in the first place. A parasite clinging to her brother, her only family, that would suck the life from him for a hundred years, then leave him heartbroken and devastated. She had to do something. It was her duty as a sister…

“Vinessa and I will be happy together, Ci. Why can’t you be happy for us?”

“Because she… she can’t be here! She’s alive, she isn’t dead. At least, she wasn’t…”

Faervell cut her off by raising his hand, gesturing for her to stop. Ciaragan felt a lump forming in her throat.

“We’re leaving. You will make it on your own, I’m sure of it.” He gave her no chance to argue, taking Vinessa by the arm and turning to disappear deeper into the Banewood.

Ciaragan shoved herself off the tree and followed them blindly into the dark, arm outstretched for her brother.

“Wait! I don’t want to be alone, please, come back! Don’t leave me, Faer!”

The forest grew thicker and thicker the further she delved in after them. Mist pooled at her feet, covering any tracks they may have left in the dirt for her to follow. Ciaragan’s breath was ragged, mixed with strained sobs for her brother to wait for her. Despite her pleas, he and Vinessa grew smaller in the distance until Ciaragan could see no more of them. This would not slow her pursuit. She trampled forward with no concern for the amount of noise she was rustling up, her only thoughts focused on what she might say to change his mind.

Soon she was surrounded on all sides by dense woods, unable to see much past her own reach. A glimpse of black hair caught her eye just as it slipped behind a tree. She ran towards it, but found nothing. As she turned back, another echo of her brother appeared in the distance. She switched paths once more, desperately trying to reach him before he was inevitably gone again. Everywhere she looked Ciaragan was faced with the image of her brother turning his back on her, just as he had done all those years ago. Her chest felt so tight she feared she might crack in two. It was all too much for her to bear. She slumped down against the rough bark and buried her head in her knees, sick to her stomach with dread.

“Ciara… I have something to tell you.”

Eyes wet with fresh tears, her face whipped up at the sound of Faervell’s voice.

“Brother?”

His gloved hand reached down to pull her up onto her feet. She threw her arms around his neck, wrapping him in an embrace so tight she might never let go.

“Ci...Esme and I have been talking…”

“No.” She muttered into his shoulder.

“...We are ready to start our lives together...Start a family together.”

She felt her grip on him loosen. “No.” Her jaw clenched. “You already have a family.”

“Children, Ciara. I want children with Esme.”

Ciaragan’s skin was crawling as her brother delivered blow after blow to her already fragile ego. She pushed him out of her arms and away from her.

“You already HAVE children, Faer. You’ve got countless bastards all over Quel’Thalas. Why don’t you dote on one of them instead of your whore of the week?”

“Why don’t you? You claim to love your family more than anything, but reject those babies because they aren’t legitimate. Is your heart truly that black, Ciaragan? You, who so desperately wanted a child of your own but could never have one. I suppose the gods were being merciful when they made you barren…”

Her blood ran cold as the words escaped his lips. It was his voice, but the words coming from her brother’s mouth were crueler than any he ever dared utter to her face.

“...No one deserves to have you as a mother, Ciaragan. You are a monster.”

He turned without another word and slipped back into the shadows. The world felt watery around her, as if reality were about to melt down and wash her down the drain with it. She tried to take a step after him, but this time her feet would not obey. Her body was sinking into the red grass- feet already submerged under the earth. Ciaragan fell to her knees and clawed at the ground, her nails digging tracks along the dirt as she attempted to pull herself free. It was no use, for the earth seemed determined to swallow her whole. She felt her legs begin to disappear, her feet swinging freely in open air under the crust. The pit would have her, no matter how hard she struggled. One last gulp of air entered her lungs before her neck and head went under. From there, she was in freefall.

Ciaragan landed on something soft, but whatever it was was writhing underneath her like waves on the ocean. It was pitch black save for the sea of faintly glowing, icy blue lights bobbing to and fro in the darkness. She tried to stand but could not find her footing. As she reached out to find something to steady herself, she was met with that same softness which broke her fall. Only this time, her mind was able to place the sensation. Though it pained her to admit, it could be nothing else but skin. Her heartbeat slammed against the walls of her chest cavity as her eyes began to adjust to the dark. What once were shimmering lights on an open sea readily morphed into pairs of eyes moving in her direction. She screamed when something like a tiny hand took hold of her ankle and crawled its way up her person. Ciaragan put out her one remaining hand to stop the creature from progressing any further and found its skull fit perfectly in her palm. These weren’t just creatures, she realized, but babies. She was drowning in an ever churning mass of fleshy infants, each one cursed with haunting blue eyes and drooling, gaping mouths. Ciaragan couldn’t hold herself up any longer. She let exhaustion, fear, and dread overtake her as she released hold of the baby’s head and allowed them to drag her down, down, down into nothingness.

When Nimena found the twitching, hapless body of her charge lying paralyzed on the forest floor, she couldn’t help but let out a dark, hearty chuckle. Ciaragan had fallen into a fear trap fairly early on into the hunt and had been running in circles ever since. She was easy to track, given the amount of noise she was making. The Venthyr fixed Ciaragan’s chains back around her wrists and slung her over the saddle of her Gargon. It wasn’t a far ride back to the Grove of Terror. From there, Ciaragan’s atonement could finally begin in earnest.

@pyrar and @jessipalooza for character mentions

#a scene #ciaragan #faervell bael'nar

2 notes · View notes

lostonrevenge · 4 years

Text

The Cove

Summary: If being condemned to living her life of the Isle of the Lost, CJ Hook struggles with being blamed for her mother’s death.

Warning: Attempted Suicide – even if you aren’t sure whether this will be a trigger for you, please don’t read this.

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

Her hand hovered nervously at the frame of the door. It was the dead of night and the waves gently rocked the ship under CJ’s feet as she stood outside her brother’s room. She would find it peaceful if it weren’t for the thoughts in her mind.

She swallowed nervously as she stared at the cracked door, through it she could see Harry in his bed sound asleep. In her mind she debated whether she should wake him up or if this time she could handle it on her own. Her weight shifted between her feet while her brain tried to decide if she would turn around.

With a deep intake of breath, she musters up her courage and knocks.

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

Harry was disturbed out of sleep by a soft wrapping sound. His initial thought of something falling from his desk was halted when he sees his sister standing nervously in his doorway.

“What’s wrong?” he knows to ask immediately. His voice gravely from sleep.

“I-I had another nightmare” CJ’s small voice only just reaches his ears over the sound of the waves.

Harry sighs as he pushes himself up in bed. “Dad again?”

CJ nods and her lip starts to quiver.

“Come ‘ere” Harry nods his head gesturing for her to come to him.

Immediately she detaches herself from the doorway and rushes over to Harry, coming to sit in front of him on the bed. After tucking her legs up onto the mattress, she feels Harry’s arms wrap around her. At his touch her breath shudders as she begins to shake with emotion. Behind her eyes burn with the desire to cry and she tries to resist - this is the Isle and there is no place for it. But she fails as a tear rolls down her cheek and onto Harry’s shoulder.

Initially she can’t speak, not being able to form words while her lungs heave for breath. But eventually she gains enough control to choke a few out, “I killed mum.”

At her words Harry straightens up, pulling her closer to him. “You didn’t” was all he could bring himself to say. He was tired of all the lies his father feed her about the death of their mother, he didn’t want to entertain them if he could help it.

“How do you not hate me?” CJ sobs, her mind telling her that she doesn’t want to hear his answer.

“I can’t hate you” Harry grips her tighter, more for his comfort than her own.

“But you knew her, and I killed her” CJ buries her head further into his chest in shame.

CJ feels Harry sigh deeply against her. “You’re right, I did know her” Harry acknowledges. “And I also know that she knew the risk of having children here.”

CJ sniffs, seeming to be calming down at Harry’s words.

“It’s no one’s fault and you know that” Harry says before he looks down to plant a kiss on her head.

“Dad doesn’t” she mumbles.

“He does” Harry grits his teeth at the thought. “He just needs someone to blame, and I’m sorry that that person is you. You know that I would change that if I could.”

Harry’s words hang in the air as he holds her for a while in the silence. There was something special about the moment – one shared with affection that they couldn’t show in the daylight. The Isle didn’t allow for comfort to be shown between anyone, even family – even when someone really needed it.

“I hate living here” CJ whispers, not caring whether Harry hears it or not.

“That, I believe, is the point” Harry says in the lightest tone he can muster. But there isn’t much happiness to find in the situation.

“No one asks to be alive” CJ sobs again. “We’re just expected to take it and deal with it.”

Harry says nothing. He can’t because those thoughts are also his own.

“Why did we have to be born here? Why not be born to people that actually care for us?”

Part of Harry hates himself for saying this, but he knew it needed to be said, “if mum were alive, she would.”

“Would she?” CJ asks, a mix of hope and longing in her small voice.

Harry nods, and he smiles slightly as he thinks of the life that could have been theirs.

“Do you think she hates me?” CJ wonders.

“No” Harry shakes his head. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so confident of an answer in his life.

“I wish she was here.”

“She is” Harry looks down at his sister, who pulls away to look up at him. “Down by the cove with the caves where we sent her off. Where you stand on the face of the rocks and look out to the water.” He smiles picturing the bluest water in all of the Isle, the secluded landscape where there are no makeshift shacks or shipwrecks in sight – if you had a good enough imagination, you might just think you were somewhere else. “Her spirit is there.”

“When I die, I wanna go there too” CJ’s words slur as tiredness overtakes her, emotion having taken its toll.

Sensing his sister was about to nod off, Harry lies back down gesturing for CJ to do the same. As she settles down instead of turning away from him, she faces towards him and curls herself up into his chest. Finally relaxing as he pulls the blankets over them both and places his arm over her shoulders.

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

Harry was glad for the distraction of stacking trays and dishes in the Chip Shop, it helped take his mind off the events of that morning. Means to say, when Captain Hook found out that his youngest daughter had spent the night in her brother’s room for the sake of a nightmare, he was none to pleased. Weakness of such would not be tolerated within his family.

For minutes on end Harry and Harriet were forced to listen to their father yell abuse at CJ, trading solemn looks with each other from across the kitchen, knowing that they could do nothing until it stopped. They averted their eyes unable to look at their sister as she cowered, backed up against a wall tears threatening to spill down her face, while their father’s hateful words shook the ship. At last when it finally ceased, CJ disappeared out the door without a word.

Her older siblings had made to follow her but their father held them back, lecturing them that providing comfort was also something not to be tolerated. By the time it was over and they had gone to find her, she was long gone.

Placing down yet another tray, Harry hears a gasp of commotion as the saloon doors burst open. Purely out of habit, he looks up to see Gil standing breathlessly in front the doors still swinging. It takes no genius to know that something is terribly wrong. Gil’s chest heaves for breath and he shakes with adrenaline, his eyes frantically searching for someone.

“Harry!” he yells when he spots him.

Confused Harry places the trays down on a table as he walks toward him. At the same moment Uma comes out of the kitchen, drying her hands with a tea towel, eyeing the situation carefully.

“It’s CJ! Harriet’s not far behind” he explains panting as he closes the gap between him and Harry. He had seen Harriet in the street and run ahead, knowing that he’d be faster.

At Gil’s words the picture of the situation crashed into Harry so fast that he felt like he’d physically been hit. Without a word or a second’s delay he was running out the door with Gil and Uma following behind.

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

They almost collided with Harriet on the wharf just coming up to the door of the shop. She was breathless with tears running down her face. Unable to form any words to explain, she hands Harry the note she’d been holding in her hand.

It was doubtful that Harry even read the note. Having a note was pretty self-explanatory, and there was no time – if they even had any left. His face was pale and he visibly shook as he held it. Uma was about to put a hand on his arm just to let him know she was there, but he suddenly sparked into action.

“The cove” was all he said in a voice so fragile that it couldn’t possibly belong to him. Remembering back to the night before when CJ had told him where she wanted to go when she died.

Within an instant of his words registering, it was like they were never there on the wharf, having speed off to the cove.

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

Without consulting they all spread out when they reached the sandy shore. Harry’s boots pounded into the sand and up rocks as he climbed them, searching for any sign of his sister. Below him Uma searched around the caves made by fallen rocks. Behind them Harriet ran across the beach looking out into the water.

At the sound of Gil’s shout, Harry skidded down the rocks and ran over to the sound of his voice. After weaving his way through path of fallen boulders and splashing through a stream, Harry saw him up ahead, standing before a flat face of rocks. Further along he could make out the silhouette of his younger sister standing at the edge of the rock face, spray from the waves faintly splashing up around her.

He didn’t slow his pace as he ran to her, placing his hands on Gil’s shoulders to keep him out of the way as he sprinted past. Behind them the rest of the group closed in as Harry reached CJ just as she jumped.

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

The waves below were so beautiful as she looked down upon them. Foam made swirling patterns in white, hypnotising her to fall into them.

Wind blew around her whipping her hair into her face where it stuck to her drying tears. It encompassed her to a feeling where she felt safe as it wrapped around her like an embrace. Gently it pushed her closer to the edge, leading her steps along. It would guide her down to the water waiting for her.

It wouldn’t matter what would happen now, she would be safe and away in another world far from this own. Closing her eyes, she took her last breath and prepared for the wind to ascend her. She could feel it surging behind her and she felt peace that her time was up.

As one of her feet lifted from the rock, allowing her to begin her fall, she felt a different embrace latch onto her.

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

As soon as Harry’s arms closed around her, he pulled her away from the edge. Holding on to her he knew he could only walk so far before his legs gave out, so he sunk down to the rock pulling CJ onto his crossed legs.

“Don’t do this – don’t do this to me” he begs her as tears fall freely from his eyes. He buries his face in her hair as Harriet reaches them, skidding down to the ground beside them.

“I can’t do this anymore” CJ voice is monotonous and clear as she speaks above the wind, like she’s lost all emotion.

From where Uma stands next to Gil, she can’t make out Harriet’s words but she can tell her tone is gentle. It’s like time is frozen as she stands there, watching on helplessly. She feels like she should go over to them but she can’t will herself to move.

“We should leave them be” Gil’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts.

Uma looks up at him, lost on what to do. But the look in his eyes convinces her that this is a family matter. She draws in a breath, looking back at the group of siblings on the rocks before she hesitantly lets Gil take her hand and pull her away.

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

It was early in the Chip Shop as Uma swept the floors before the patrons came in. Her only focus was not stepping in the dust pile at her feet until the sound of swinging doors caught her attention.

Looking up towards the sound she expects to see the first of the customers filing in but is surprised when she sees Harry instead. It’s obvious that he hasn’t slept, having grey lines under his eyes that no amount of charcoal can hide.

“How is she?” Uma asks as she leans the broom against a table and opens her arms out for him to walk into.

“She’s asleep and Harriet’s with her. But I have no idea” he tells her as he walks into her arms, his voice sounding strained. He doesn’t move his arms to return her embrace, like he can’t summon up the energy to lift them.

Though Uma doesn’t mind – moments like this were special because they so rarely got to share them. She only pulls him closer so she can lean her head onto his chest, more for her own comfort than his. The day before was the only time she’d seen Harry cry, and she never wanted to again. To see someone so strong break was scary for her, because if they were broken what would that mean for her?

“Go be with her” Uma instructs as she pulls away.

Harry remains still and looks hesitant to leave.

“She needs you right now” Uma tells him in the gentlest Captain’s voice she has.

She never thought it would bring her peace to see her first mate leave her and watch the doors swing shut behind him. But that day, it did.

#disney #disney descendants #disney descendants fanfiction #cj hook #harry hook #uma #harriet hook #gil #isle of the lost

11 notes · View notes