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yeehawbvby · 1 year

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 30

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: What you feared would be, comes to fruition

Author’s Note: I’d love to hear your thoughts on plot twist #2 (Although, I guess it’s more so confirmed here than it is revealed. The last chapter probably did that ^^” My request for input still stands though)

I hope you enjoy this one, take care x

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

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“Merrrp.”

I groan. Feeling something fluffy tickle my nose, I crinkle it and reach to the source.

Opening my groggy eyes, I’m met by Cannoli sniffing around in front of my face. I stretch my arms up a bit, then snuggle the cat close to me, closing my eyes again as he situates himself as my little spoon.

A few heartbeats go by before my eyes snap back open.

This isn’t my bed.

This is Magnus’ bed.

This isn’t my bed and Cannoli is in it with me.

Why would Magnus have grabbed Cannoli and brought him here… unless he heard everything I was thinking—

Oh fuck.

With Cannoli still in my arms, I sit up, situating him onto my lap. We both do a quick scan around the room. We’re alone. My phone is next to me, and the little window behind me is dark. It’s been fairly dim all day, with this strangely timed autumn storm going on, but it’s dark now. Must be nighttime.

I do a double take at the nightstand when I notice more than just the purple lamp on it. The dim light source is now accompanied by a small piece of paper and a glass of water. I shimmy over to reach them — this bed is so big oh my lord — and pick up the water, taking a sip while I grab the note too.

In Magnus’ typically neat cursive and black ink, it reads:

“Good morning(?), (y/n).

I’ve gone to the basement to work. I apologize for not waking you, but I did not want to disturb your slumber. You seemed in dire need of it.

You’ve likely figured out by now, as your little friend is somewhere in my quarters with you, that I heard some of your anxious thoughts this afternoon. As I’ve said in the past; sometimes they’re too loud for me not to hear. I truly do my best to refrain from psychic intrusion, alas… shit happens, as you might say. :) I hope I did not overstep by retrieving him for you.”

I hate how, despite the dread brewing in me, my lips curl up softly.

“I couldn’t keep this information to myself in good conscience, given the contents of your mind, and assumed the best way to make it up to you — for now, at least — would be to abide by your earlier wants. I only pray he doesn’t excrete in any way during his visit…”

I look at the gray feline in my lap, and he looks up at me.

He meows.

…Can’t promise anything. Sorry, wiz.

“Whenever you’re ready, feel free to either come see me or head home. I could teleport you to your farm as well, if that would be more apt. If you choose to stay, we need not discuss anything you don’t want to.

Please take all the time you need up there. Your comfort is my greatest desire at the moment.”

My tummy does a flip at Magnus’ concern.

Almost immediately after, I feel sick.

He didn’t deny any of my worries. I wonder if I was right, if we are soulmates, but he just didn’t want to tell me because of how I reacted to the information. Can’t exactly blame the dude for that. Could never imagine how it feels to be alive for centuries, searching for “the one,” and finding her only once – possibly twice, now – in all that time, just for neither instance to work out.

At least… not yet? I don’t know what to do with this info.

Polyamory seemed to be at least somewhat on the table for Seb, and the more I think about what’s going on – about Magnus himself – I kinda feel warmer to it. But, having the spirits fucking around with it will put a huge wrench in things, if I had to guess.

Likewise, I love Seb with all my heart. I don’t want to or have intentions to leave him, at least in the near future.

But if I’m falling this hard, this fast, for someone who the universe is maybe quite literally shoving me to, I don’t know how much of a choice I’ll have in the matter… Especially given what Magnus said, about the spirits trying harder each time and with growing proximity.

At this point, keeping things totally platonic only seems less doable.

…Which means my only options would be to completely avoid Magnus until further notice, which I don’t want to do, or possibly leave Seb, which I also don’t want to do, obviously. Neither option is fair for anyone involved, either.

I keep having to remind myself that I don’t even fucking know if this Big Theory of mine is true or not… not like doing that eases my anxiety about it at all.

Without noticing, I’d started crying all over Cannoli; he’s rubbing his little head on my sweater, trying to get the tears off his fur. I lay down again, pulling him close to my belly. Then I pick up my phone. The only notification is for some texts from Seb:

Sebastian > i drank water with my coffee and got food from Gus

Sebastian > praise me

Through sniffles, I laugh out loud at his blunt message and reply:

< LETS FUCKING GOOOO YOU DID SO GOOD BABY

< sorry i didn’t see this sooner

< rough day

Almost immediately, Seb answers back.

Sebastian > you alright?

< no lol

< pls don’t worry about it though. I promise i’ll fill you in some other time

Sebastian > already worried, but i gotcha

Sebastian > got some more work to do, but call me if you need anything 🖤

< thank u, will do 🖤

I feel like a wretched beast right now. A creature who doesn’t deserve any of the love or care I’m receiving from anyone. I’m caught in the middle of a weird situation and I don’t like it.

After drinking some more water, I creep across the hallway to borrow Magnus’ bathroom. Similarly to my own, his doesn’t really match the rest of the house. There are hints at his aesthetic — such as a small hanging plant in the shower — but nothing major.

Tiles resembling those that are in the displayed grimoire room make up the floor, while similarly crystalline white tiles line the walls. His crinkled, half-opened shower curtain appears to be a plain sky blue. The bath mat is white and seems to be very soft from the looks of it.

If I had to guess based on its color and shape, the bar of soap that sits on Magnus’ porcelain sink is homemade. I pick it up to take a curious sniff. Very citrusy and a tad earthy... For some reason I thought Magnus would be more into floral scents, but this makes more sense, given how he himself tends to smell.

Now that I’m done investigating, I splash some cold water on my face. Wanna get the puffiness from sleep and crying outta my eyes, and hopefully rid myself of this groggy post-nap breath while I’m at it. I peek at my disheveled appearance in the mirror before me. My mascara is looking real crunchy... It’s waterproof, but it isn’t immune to being rubbed around a bunch, that’s for sure.

Cannoli joins me while I’m trying to at least fix my hair a little bit and begins peeing in the bathtub. Great. At least I can easily wash that away.

“If you shit here, I’ll be so upset with you,” I grumble.

Cannoli meows at me as he continues his piss, staring me in the eyes the entire time.

After he hops out, I quickly spray down the afflicted area with the shower head and pick the cat up. Hugging him close and peppering the space between his ears with kisses, I bravely make my way downstairs.

I wanna get the little guy home before he causes any more trouble, so I’ve decided to take up Magnus’ offer to teleport me. Dunno if I trust Cannoli to stay in my arms the whole way on foot. Assuming the wizard teleported to my house and back to grab the cat, I hope the lil’ guy can handle more arcane travel.

I tread quietly down to the basement, not wanting to interrupt any important spells or whatever. Ignoring the fact that he might have already sensed that I’m awake, maybe even heard me spiraling some more from down here. If that didn’t give me away, a hearty meow from Cannoli just as I enter the doorframe to the basement sure does.

“Shut up, oh my god,” I whisper to the little man.

When I look up, Magnus is at the far end of the hallway. There’s a book open in his hand, but he’s looking at me, shock clear on his face before he beams one of his award-winning grins.

I wonder if he was expecting me to just leave without a word… I feel my shoulders drop at the thought, but I mentally shake it from my head.

When I get closer, I offer a weak smile, and an even weaker “Hey.” Magnus parrots me. I furrow my brows. “Sounds weird hearing you say ‘Hey,’ instead of ‘Hello,’ or ‘Greetings, weak mortal,’ or something.”

He chuckles, closing his book and returning it to the shelf. “In what situation have I said the latter in your presence?”

“Never,” I shrug, “But you probably think it a lot.”

“Ah, yes. How could I have forgotten how lowly I think your people are?” Magnus glares down at me with a cheeky smugness, arms crossed and everything… Makes me feel funny.

I look at the cat in my arms with tingly pink cheeks and hold him closer to my face. When he looks back, I start mumbling, “You heard the mean man, right Cannoli?”

My fuzzy court witness.

From my lowered head, and while Cannoli chirps in response, I playfully glare up at the wizard. Earns me more of a giggle than his usual proper laughs.

“He understands what you say, you know.”

Scratching beneath Cannoli’s chin and bringing my head upright again, I tilt it in confusion. “What?”

“That potion – the one you had, er… an adverse reaction to – may have granted you the ability to communicate with other beings, to an extent.”

“No fucking way.” I look at the cat. “Meow twice if you understand me.” Cannoli meows once. I stare (e/c) daggers at The Liar again. “You scoundrel.”

“‘Scoundrel?’ You’re beginning to sound like me.”

Repositioning the cat in my arms a bit, I lean on the bookshelf next to me. “Yeah, don’t get used to it,” I roll my eyes through a grin.

A short silence passes before either of us speak up. We both try to in unison. “Sorry,” we, again, say simultaneously.

“You go ahead,” Magnus mutters softly.

“Um… I was hoping you could maybe teleport Cannoli and I home?” Noticing periwinkle-colored worry in the wizard’s eyes, I continue. “I do want to talk about… y’know.” I sigh deeply. “Get another existential conversation out of the way.” I lower my gaze to the cat. “He’s getting antsy, though. Peed in your bathtub.”

Magnus looks relieved by my answer, but then realization sets in. “Shit.”

I briefly take note of how, in the short few weeks I’ve known him, Magnus went from hardly cursing around me at all to saying a swear at least once a day (around me, at least). I wonder if I did that to him.

“I washed it away, and I don’t think he did it anywhere else,” I reassure him. “I just don’t want him to do any more than that.” I wince this time.

With a soft smile at the creature in my arms, Magnus nods. “Fair enough. Come on,” he invites me, holding out his palm.

Before taking it, I reposition Cannoli so he’s safely cradled in one arm. Magnus places a gentle hand on the cat’s head. Once we’re situated, the elemental offers me a quiet “Ready?”

I nod, look down, and clench my eyes shut while he brings us to my house. I know I don’t need to shut them every time, but I feel like I’d be too freaked by whatever teleporting looks like.

Magnus gives my hand a squeeze to indicate that we’ve arrived, and I shoot him a thankful smile. When Cannoli decides not to scurry away, I keep him held close to me for comfort.

“Um…” I look around, feeling sheepish about how shabby and vaguely mismatched my home is. “We could stay here, if you want. I know my house kinda blows, but, uh…” I trail off.

Shaking his head, Magnus comforts me with a laugh. “Your home is lovely, (y/n).” He looks around a little and adds, “In fact, I quite like what you’ve done with it.”

What? I haven’t changed anything about it in the past, like, two days since he was last here.

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, that has yet to come up, I suppose,” he murmurs more to himself than to me. “Your grandfather was a dear friend of mine. I had spent plenty of time on this farm over the span of his late life.”

My brows raise and eyes widen. “Whoa, seriously?”

“Indeed,” he nods. He looks proud of himself. “He had a great connection to the valley and the arcane, just as you do.”

That’s so cool to think about. Just Grandpa and Magnus shootin’ the shit at that rickety little table in the corner. Maybe discussing magic and farming and junimos and whatever. After a sec, though, a creepy thought invades me.

“Wait. We didn’t, like, meet when I was a kid, did we?”

“No,” Magnus’ eyes widen before his cheeks and eyes flush. “No,” he shakes his head, repeating himself. “He was very secretive of our friendship, just as I’d requested. I barely knew a soul in town then, aside from himself, Marlon and Linus.”

“Thank god,” I mumble under my breath, looking down at Cannoli.

My feelings would have been made a lot more complicated if I’d been pining for somebody who knew me when I was that young. Super gross.

Realizing we’re still just standing in the middle of the room, I ask Magnus if he wants anything to drink, or whatever. “I’ve got tea, coffee, water,” I think about the fact that there are some taller cabinets here I’ve never opened, even while climbing, because… short. “Um, I’ve probably got some old wine or something hidden in there somewhere,” I add, nodding towards the kitchen.

“I’m alright, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Sick, no problem.” I feel sooo fuckin’ awkward. “Uh, we can sit at the table, or my bed, or, like, outside…? Wait, no. Not there.” It’s raining you dumbass, I think to myself. I add on in a whisper, “I’m not sure why this feels so formal but I don’t know what to do and I am so sorry.”

Laughing, Magnus puts a hand on my head. I look down at Cannoli, feeling my face turn crimson. “Relax, my dear,” he whispers.

His voice was low, and there was something silky about the way he spoke. And, like… suddenly, I am relaxed.

He just soothed my nerves with a head pat and three dumb words.

“The fuck did you just do?” I prod, assuming he casted a spell on me or some shit.

Genuinely confused, the tall man tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“I…” I scan his face for a second.

Oh.

He’s serious.

So he actually just has that effect on me, I guess.

Cool. Great.

COOL.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, shaking my head. Using Cannoli as a stim, I play with the fur behind his ears.

Taking initiative, since I fuckin’ can’t apparently, Magnus moves to sit at the table. I follow suit, and somehow Cannoli is still content in my hug. He must sense how much I need him.

I pull my chair over a bit so it’s closer to my guest’s before popping a squat. Neither of us say anything for a moment. I purse my lips, avoiding Magnus’ eyes. Fuck. I’m nervous again.

“I… I believe you may have been correct. Let’s start there.”

Magnus doesn’t say what I might’ve been right about, but I know exactly what he means as my heart drops to my stomach.

“There’s no way of knowing for certain, but just as I was nearly positive about my bind with Marie…” I’m assuming that’s the last soulma— a previous version of me that he met, oh my god??? “...I’m even more so sure that I’ve the same connection with you.”

I nod, slow. Exhaling, also slow. My head is spinning and my heart is racing and thoughts of both Magnus and Seb are flooding my head and I don’t like this. I thought I just had a stupid schoolgirl-ass crush on this guy, and it turns out we’re legitimately made for each other?

“I’m so, so sorry, (y/n). I’m aware that isn’t what you wanted to hear.”

Something in my heart breaks hearing the earnesty in Magnus’ whispers. My head snaps towards him, my brows upturned. He’s not looking at me, but his irises are a deep blue.

“Magnus,” I sigh, and take a second to gather my thoughts. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything. I can’t imagine this being any less hard or strange for you than it is for me.” My eyes zigzag his face before I continue. “S’probably worse for you actually, considering how long you’ve been looking for… uh…” I swallow harshly. “For me...” The last two words come out as a meek whisper.

Magnus sighs, meeting my eyes. As he begins explaining more, he sounds solemn.

“I had always been rather adverse to romance. For a long, long time, I’ve found it difficult to commune with potential partners in that way. Many had become disinterested once they learned of my dedication to my work, while others simply used me for petty means,” he says matter-of-factly. “My services, such as potions and teleportation. Protection from other elemental beings. Sex.”

I blush at the last part. I wonder how many partners he’s had, aside from his ex-wife and Caroline. Dude’s probably a pro by now…

“What I am trying to tell you is that I’m more than familiar with solitude. By no means do I want to put pressure on you to have any association with me, if that isn’t what you desire, (y/n).” His eyes shift to their natural, red wine-esque color, as he becomes more determined to say what he needs to. “But… even then, I cannot help but feel hopeful.”

At a loss for words, I bring my feet onto the chair below me and tuck my knees to myself, strategically avoiding squishing Cannoli. Trying to find solace via curling into a ball where I sit.

“Oh! Um.” Magnus clears his throat. “Y-your skirt, my dear…”

…Juuust perfect.

After my brain buffers for a solid few seconds, I put my legs back down at the speed of fucking light. My eyes are bulging as I stare blankly ahead. Cannoli, annoyed with the frequently changing terrain, ditches me, so I move on to fiddle with the hem of my skirt in place of his fur.

“Magnus I am so sorry.”

He exhales a breathy laugh. “It’s… y-you’re fine.” Then, his chuckles turn heartier.

It’s contagious. I’m still terrified of the situation at hand, and mortified that I just flashed him by accident after he essentially confessed that he’s falling for me in the same weird and almost nonconsensual way I am for him. But the timing of that could not have been any worse and it’s somehow hilarious.

I bury my face in my hands and lean my elbows to my knees, muffling the sounds escaping me.

“God fucking damnit,” I whine through my fingers.

My face is just as red as the wizard’s, and we’re both in a fit of giggles now. The fact that we’re laughing so hard over something so fucking stupid, during such a genuinely serious and life-changing discussion, is at least pretty comforting in its own way.

Cheeks and abs on fire, I stand up and walk to the dresser. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna change,” I announce to him through near-tears.

“Right there?” he teases.

I lean my head on the wardrobe for support as my chest shakes from flustered laughter. “No yeah, totally!” I sarcastically proclaim, “After nearly dying on the spot because I bared my whole ass to you, I’m gonna strip too. No better timing!”

After I grab the first pair of pants I see — my gray sweats are the lucky winner — I scurry off to the bathroom and quickly swap out my bottoms.

Before I come back, I grab some water for us both. I know Magnus said he didn’t want anything, but like, just in case he changes his mind he’ll have the option now. When I enter the main room again, Magnus is leaning on the table, his forehead in his hands.

As I sit down, I less promiscuously hug my knees to myself. I slide Magnus’ emergency-water near him while sipping from mine. When he lifts his vision to look at the cup, and then at me, I choke on my drink, cutting off his ‘thank you.’

Why are his eyes the horny red again?!

“Are you alright?” he asks tentatively, his irises fading back to normal.

“Y-your eyes,” I stop to clear my throat, but don’t bother continuing. He probably knows what I’m talking about.

Taking a minute to answer, Magnus sighs, and finally, carefully defends himself. “Please forgive me.” His eyes flutter shut. “I am very tired, and today has been a fucking whirlwind of emotions.” If he weren’t smiling and blushing a bit, it would sound like he’s mad at me for all this.

“Gotcha,” I grin. A little proud that I’ve accidentally made him all red-eyed again. Soon after, my mood dampens. “Sorry.”

“For what? Need I remind you what you walked in on, when you came into my home this morning?”

“Well, everything. Like obviously for today, but not just today.”

Picking at my nail polish, a minute or so of silence goes by before I air my dirty laundry.

“I just don’t know what to do about all this, Magnus. Sebastian and I literally had a conversation about us,” I gesture between my guest and I, “the other night because he picked up on my feelings while we were all together.”

When I peer over at Magnus, his cheeks and eyes match. Can’t tell if he’s embarrassed that we spoke about him, or if he legitimately didn’t know that I… kinda like him. A lot. Kinda. I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought ‘til now that all I feel is attraction, seeing as it’s something I’m not even used to admitting to myself yet.

“He said he’s fine with me taking interest, but being a little frazzled around you and being soulmates are two completely separate things.” Feeling selfish and crappy, my eyes start to tear up. “I don’t want to hurt either of you, but no matter what, I’m gonna have to.”

My voice broke a little during my last statement. Fuck, seriously? I was keeling over from laughter a minute ago, and now this is happening.

“Neither of you deserve to be in this situation,” I continue. “You deserve to be happy with your soulmate, but she’s me and I’m in a relationship with someone I really love and he doesn’t even fucking know the severity of this yet!”

I have to stop to sniffle a bit. Afterwards, I lament, “As far as Seb’s aware, I just have a stupid crush on you, which is already bringing him a bit of insecurity. And as far as we know, I might not even be what you want, and you could just not seek anything with me, which I wouldn’t blame you for. I mean, my heart is in a billion places at once, I’m—”

I wipe my face with my sleeve and pause to try and calm down. Before I can fully, Magnus gets up and kneels in front of me.

He pulls my hands from my face. Fixes my hair out of my vision, as he does now, apparently. And at last, he gently weaves my fingers into his larger ones, tracing the back of my palm with his thumb. Can’t tell at this point if Magnus knows the slight movements are meant to be comforting, or if it’s a fidget of his.

His eyes are glossed over, and they’re bluer than sapphires. Was he crying too?

“It’ll be alright,” he murmurs. “I completely understand your stress and frustration, and while I was delighted at the prospect of having finally found you, I’ve no wish to break up a happy relationship.”

Before I can realize what the fuck I’m even saying, I reply, with full, unanticipated sincerity:

“But I want to be with you.”

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retroness-is-fabulous · 3 years

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

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Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 7- Touch Me Under The Stars

Bucky Barnes x reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: Now that Bucky is finally out of Cryo, the two of you adjust to life in Wakanda.

Warning: fluff, smut (it gets spicy), Bucky being soft

Masterlist

Life in Wakanda was something you could never have ever dreamed of, they literally had everything here. The buildings were huge, the people so interesting and lively, the scenery absolutely breathtaking, and the tech? Out of this fucking world to put it bluntly. Tony Stark who?

Though you’d be a lying fool if you claimed to be fully satisfied with your new corner of the globe, you had a place to exist and feel comfortable in, even a nice apartment overlooking the city that’s attached to where Bucky is currently being held in.

Right. Bucky.

He’s been on your mind as of late, well in actuality he’s been consuming most of your brain processing for the past couple weeks since you and him arrived here with T’Challa and Steve after the mess in Siberia.

Another painful memory added to the already long list of traumatic experiences endured by you throughout these past sixty or so years. But you’re surviving, well enough for the most part that is; you see Steve left soon after Bucky went into the Cryo chamber. Leaving yourself all on your lonesome in a strange new country with no friends but T’Challa.

If you could even consider him a friend.

Who by the way, makes you still feel pretty uncomfortable around considering all the times you beat the shit out of each other in the past, and he thought you and Bucky killed his dad, so it’s been light treading even if he insists it’s all in the past.

On a lighter note you met his little sister Shuri, who upon discovering who you were and what you can do, immediately began marveling at the fact that you have Adamantium claws in your forearms. She was thoroughly impressed and asked for you to cut a lot of random expensive looking objects for scientific purposes only.

Well that’s what she claimed at least. Other then then those two, you’ve been pretty solitary for the most part. Which has really started getting to you recently, something that T’Challa has begun to notice.

That man is too observant for his own good.

Wind rustles the jungle trees from outside this large glass window in the lounging area of King T’Challa’s extravagant home. They sway freely in the open sun as they stretch their great green leaves to the beautiful sky above. But no bout of joy resides in your heart this day, no matter how enticing the weather may appear.

Soon a new presence is felt in the room, though it’s nothing to be alarmed about as he walks to your side, a thoughtful yet concerned expression crossing over his kingly features, “Are you finding your stay here welcoming Y/N?” Wonders T’Challa softy as you slowly blink.

“I am.”

He frowns, you’ve been quit talkative before, but now you barely even speak to anyone, “My friend I know you are not alright. Please tell me what troubles your heart.”

Dammit he’s good.

Sighing, you hug your sides as he patiently awaits an honest answer, frowning, you reluctantly begin, “I thought I would be fine....I’ve always been alone for most of my life anyways. Never counted on anyone but myself. Never needed anyone but myself. That’s how I survived. It’s just now.....I have Bucky. And I care about him more then anything in the world, but he’s gone.......well not really but, you know.” You whisper before turning your head towards some tall trees so that the king cannot see the way that your eyes brim with unshed tears. God the ache you feel for him is almost unbearable.

Understanding your deep sorrow from your lovers absence, T’Challa slowly nods, “I cannot fully express an understanding of your pain, as I have never felt it like the way that you have now. Nor have I lived the life of your own.” He admits as you turn your head to catch him in your peripheral vision, not quit ready to meet his unthreatening gaze.

He swallows before continuing, “But this I do know, you are a warrior if I’ve ever known one, and I know many.” Chuckles the king, “You fight fiercely and love deeply, Bucky should be proud to have you by his side. I may envy that kind of love, though I should not say it, it is true.”

A stray tear slides down your cheek as you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand, “Love.” You whisper softly in thought, “I do love him, yes....very much. I’ve been withdrawn lately, because well, I guess I miss him more then I’d realize I would. I hope your people help him. That’s all I ask for, I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“You might not be waiting quit that long actually.” Reveals Shuri as her familiar footsteps wander into the large sun-lite room overlooking the jungle, “My team just needs a couple more days with him and he’ll be good to go for the most part. Though the process of fully becoming free from the trigger words may take a little longer....his mind will still need time to heal.” Explains Shuri as she moves to stand on your left, opposite of her half-brother.

At this your heart speeds up with excitement, eyes turning to face the smiling princess , “I don’t want to threaten royalty, but I might break a couple of your lounge chairs if you’re lying to me. I’m not joking.” You add half jokingly as T’Challa lightly chuckles.

“Now I do not doubt that.”

——

Today you’ve been summoned into the lab in preparation for Bucky’s defrosting, claiming that having a familiar face as the first thing he sees was probably the best for when he wakes up again, at least that’s what the doctors told you.

And of course you didn’t even hesitate to say yes. So now here you are in their cleaner then a soap bottle lab, standing nervously a couple feet away from the Cryo chamber as some scientists go about their duties to his left. It’s strange, he looks relatively peaceful and serene, like he’s having a nice little nap while standing upright and covered in frost.

Nonetheless Bucky looks handsome as always, soon a tiny subconscious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you await the aftermath of the defrosting process. A button is hit and the familiar whoosh of the air chamber fills your ears as bouts of warm white steam push up into the air from the bottom and sides of his chamber.

The inside goes foggy before one of the scientists flicks a switch and the glass door pops open to emit a plethora of tiny clouds that float up and dissipate just as quickly. In the aftermath, your eyes search for Bucky, he’s still sleeping and is covered in a couple specks of blue frost, his hair undoubtedly wet from the chamber’s atmosphere.

“Give him a moment, he may be slightly disoriented as the body wakes up again.” Explains Shuri from the doorway as you bite your bottom lip anxiously in anticipation for when he’s finally conscious.

“Right.” You nod in understanding, “Not like this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him this way.” You mutter with a depressing chuckle.

A second later you’re alerted to the sound of someone sucking in a deep breath, immediately your head snaps over to witness as Bucky stirs, his fingers curl back to life as his lips part. Then soon after his two icy blue pools slowly reveal themselves to the rest of the lab as he takes a look around.

Your fists grip tightly onto the fabric of your jacket as Bucky swallows before blinking back the slight blur of waking up from a couple weeks of hibernation. The scientists, Shuri, and you study his movements as Bucky’s brow raises in thought, his eyes only on you.

“How longs it been?” He wonders before taking a step to get out of the Cryo chamber.

“Exactly a month and a half Mr. Barnes.” Chirps Shuri enthusiastically as he nods in understanding before she gives a glance between the two of you, “Alright, I’ll give you and Miss. Valerious some time to catch up while we check your vitals.” Adds the princess before exiting out the door, the other scientists following suit.

Now it’s just you and your Bucky; glancing at the floor, the two of you wander into a semi-awkward silence before he finally breaks the ice, “You look good.” He mutters softly, a small reassuring smile on his pink lips as your eyes trail up to meet his.

Revealing a breathy laugh, you shrug, “Hardly. But you on the other hand, white, I like it. It’s a good color on you.”

His stubbled cheeks flush pink as he smiles brightly, “I think I remember you telling me the exact same thing before I went under.”

“Well I just told you again, because I mean it.”

“Well I like the new style..” Points Bucky to your outfit, “it’s Wakandian but very Y/N.....I like it.”

Shaking your head you begin giggling at his adorable compliment, “Barnes you’re too much....but seriously, how do you feel? Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Thirsty?”

He smiles, “No, uh....I actually feel pretty good honestly. I could go for something to eat though, I’m starving.”

Walking over you gently take his hand in yours, “Say no more. T’Challa’s got everything here.”

——

After Bucky got readjusted and evaluated by Shuri’s team of incredible scientists and brilliant doctors, Bucky was well on his way to a full recovery from the years of mental torture given to him by Hydra. The words didn’t affect him anymore, the anxiety surrounding the very thought of breaking and turning on everyone again was a thing of the past.

He was your Bucky, completely.

In the following days after, T’Challa found a nice place on the outskirts of the grand city where you and Bucky could lay low and recover for some time as needed. Not wanting to over due your stay in his lavish home, and also wanting to feel the breeze again, you both agreed to live in a little village on the edge of a large pond.

All of it was Wakanda, so neither you nor Bucky stressed any worry that the Romanian and German authorities would come bursting through the front gates to whisk you away for your crimes. Or Tony Stark for that matter, he definitely hates you guys without a doubt in your mind.

Definitly with good reason, but that doesn’t mean you’d ever dare give Bucky up.

But on to greener pastures, it’s truly a possible thing that you’ve never seen Bucky in colors besides black or faded red shirts. But now? He wanders around in the brilliantly beautiful colors of Wakanda and her people with a brighter smile on his lips and lack of one arm for the time being.

Ah yes, the arm.

For the most part he’s been fine about it, though he needs your assistance when getting dressed or when attempting to wash the grime from his growing mane. Although, and fortunately for you, he’s still quit proficient in the area of love making with no decline in performance with lack of one arm, much to your satisfaction and his.

Besides that, it’s amusing, since you’ve been staying in this little friendly village, the kids have begun calling him the White Wolf when they want his attention. Which in turn earns a small smile upon his lips, one because he knows you usually hear it and think it’s adorable, and two it’s probably the first honestly kind thing anyone has ever placed on him, ever.

Walking across the villages center area, past huts and ladies washing some of their tunics, you follow the excited rambling of one of the village children as she talks a mile a minute about how you just have to see this really cool thing right now without exception. So of course you have to see this really cool thing, right now.

“Y/N! Y/N! Come! Faster you’re going to miss it, hurry you’re being slow.” Urges Ryn’a with a wave of her hand as she beckons you to starts running with her.

Heeding to her urgent request, you give her aunt a pursed lip grind before racing after the sprinting child, “This better be very interesting, or I’ll throw you into the water again!” You playfully threaten as she giggles across the grassy field.

Soon you’re crouching behind a rock as she peeks over the stony edge, ducking back down, she gives you a mischievous grin, “The White Wolf doesn’t see us.”

Raising a brow you nod, “This is what you wanted me to see? Him?”

Shaking her head she rolls her dark eyes in amusement, “No. We’re hunting.” She smirks in excitement as your brows furrow in confusion. Huh?

“Uh.....what?” Suddenly you connect the dots, “Are we hunting the White Wolf?” You ask, pretty damn positive that’s where this little adventure is going.

Shaking your shoulder excitedly she squeaks with joy before instantly catching herself and quieting down real quick, “He’s just over this rock. Chopping wood for the fire tonight....we need to hit him with a stick okay, then we run.”

Slowly nodding, your eyes trail over her excited face, “Hmm, okay. But I gotta ask, did Kova put you up to this and I’m now an accomplice?”

Biting her bottom lip, she diverts her gaze to the bushes behind you before mumbling out, “He might have......and if I was to hit the White Wolf on his head without getting caught. I’d get to play the drums for the fire tonight.” She whispers almost embarrassed.

Giving her a kind smile, you gently touch her shoulder in reassurance as she looks to you now, “Well then. Looks like we’re on a wolf hunt today, huh. Lucky for you, I’m great at throwing sticks.”

Immediately she squeals in joy before standing as still as stone, “Sorry.”

“No worries. I don’t think he heard a sound.” You reply, snatching a ruler sized stick from the ground before peeking over the grey sun kissed rock.

There he is, in his red tunic completely oblivious, using a Vibranium axe to chop away at the wood for tonight’s fire dance. Sitting back down, you press your back against the stone as Ryn’a clenches her fists in excited anticipation, “Ready, Y/N?” You nod as she smiles.

“Okay good....don’t miss.” She warns.

“I never miss.” You muse before turning back around, your eyes peek up over the edge and watch as Bucky sets another log on the flat rock, he hauls the axe down, splitting the wood in two.

Setting the axe down again, he walks over to the small log pile before selecting one and setting it back on the flat rock, bending down to grab the axe and when he stands to his full height again...

Smack!

Instantly the dry weather worn stick flies from the back of his head to the ground below as he throws a wary look in your direction. Though he sees absolutely nothing but a big grey rock and some bushes. Touching the back of his head, he looks down and swiftly picks up the relatively unthreatening piece of dried wood.

Studying it like it’s the holy grail and will give him all the answers to eternal life and whatnot, he throws it to the ground before continuing with his duties as you turn back to Ryn’a. “That was a good hit.....can you do it again? Please?” Mutters the little beast as you settle down from that adrenaline rush of perfectly nailing Bucky in the back of his head without getting caught.

Let’s not forget you were one of Hydra’s most deadliest assassins.

Her dark chocolate eyes stare pleadingly and puppy-like as she fake pouts, “Please Y/N? I won’t ever leave another turtle in your house ever again....promise. I promise, please?” She quietly begs as you contain your laughter.

“Yeah alright. But you’re gonna have to run cause he’s probably gonna figure out where the second one came from.” You add with a smirk, “I’ll deal with the wolf after. I can take him.”

“Yes!” She squeaks, “Oh, sorry I mean....yes.” She whispers quietly as you search for a new stick to throw.

Soon enough you find another and cautiously look around the side of the rock this time, there’s Bucky, setting another log on the flat rock before slicing it in half. Instantly the biggest grin pulls your lips into a Cheshire Cat smile as he turns to grab another log.

Smack!

“Hey! Who was that?!” He shouts in confusion as Ryn’a bursts with laughter before booking it back to the safety of the village while you crouch there behind a rock cackling like a child.

God that was such an accurate hit too. And he didn’t even see it coming.

Suddenly you hear the sounds of feet running against the earth, when Bucky makes it to the back of the large rock you’re nowhere to be found. Brows furrowing, he looks at the bushes and then over to the nearby village before shaking his head and turning around to walk back over to his usual duties for the day.

Only now he’s confronted by the casually innocent face of you who’s standing there with the axe slung over your shoulder, “Something scare you Barnes?” You muse with a small laugh before nodding towards the wood, “I mean these logs can be pretty scary I won’t hold it against you. You might have seen a snake, who knows.”

Sauntering back over to you he stands there for a moment just observing your casually calm self, “Why do I have a suspicion you just hit me with a stick. Twice.”

Shrugging, you slam the axe into the dirt before rising up to meet his humored gaze, “Maybe it was a Rhino, maybe it was a little nine year old who needed me to win her a drum. Guess you’ll never know.”

Glancing from the ground then back up to you again, Bucky shakes his head at your theatrical antics, warm smile ghosting across his lips, “Well just so you know it didn’t hurt.” Assures your big tough man with a nod.

“I’ll use a bigger stick next time.” You quip as he takes a step closer to you.

Handsome face breaking out into a beaming grin, “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I’m tired of chopping wood.” He says as his fingers ghost against the bare skin of your sleeveless shoulders, “I just want to be with you.”

Touching the side of of his stubbly cheek affectionately, you smile, “Where too? By the pond?” Which causes him to snort a breathy laugh.

“No, I don’t trust you by open water.”

You shrug in agreement, remembering the first time you both arrived here and the children brought you into a splashing fight where you got Bucky’s hair all wet, “Yeah that’s fair.”

——

After enjoying a pleasant evening walk together, eating a delicious traditional Wakandian meal, and watching the performers for the celebration dance and beat on their drums for hours into the night. You and Bucky decided to steal away from the festivities and have a little moment together under the stars, just you and him, nothing and no one else.

“That was nice wasn’t it.” You mutter as he lays on his back next to you, “I like these people. They’re kind.”

Turning his head to meet your shadowed face, he smiles adoringly as you keep a steady gaze set on the stars above, “Well, no ones trying to kill us so I’d say we’re doing alright.”

“We are, aren’t we. Who would have thought that shit huh? Two ex-assassins, two fucked up people like us laying like sappy teenagers under the stars. This almost feels like some stupid romantic film.”

Bucky lets out a proper laugh this time as you send him a humored look, “What? I’m being honest!”

Quickly he rolls onto his side to face you, a new sultry flicker flashing through his dark gaze, “Maybe I like being sappy with you.” He mutters lovingly before trailing a finger across your jaw as you study his face.

“Sappy with me? Why Mr. Barnes are you flirting with me this fine evening?” You muse with a breathy chuckle as he smiles brightly down at you.

“I was hoping you’d notice, is it working?” He asks, a hopeful look in his dark blue eyes.

Leaning closer, he’s pleasantly surprised when you gently press your lips to his, “My God James you’re making me swoon.” You jest before snickering at your shitty old-timey accent replacing the Eastern European one, “Why I’ve never met such a character, now tell me Mr. Barnes, are you a single man?”

Holding in his laughter, he takes a breath before answering, “Doll, I’m taken.”

Gasping in mock surprise, you quickly sit up before pushing him onto his back by both shoulders, your legs to either side of his torso as your faces keep mere inches apart, “Well, well, well how about that.” You slyly tisk, your natural accent dripping heavily as it sends a thrill through Bucky, “Lucky woman indeed. But I can guarantee you, I’m much more enticing.”

Bucky shivers as you lean your body closer to his, your silky hands to either side of his flushed face as you smile a devilish grin in the darkness, “I don’t doubt it.” He rasps, voice just barley above a whisper, lips so close to yours now you could almost taste him.

“I just realized something.” You suddenly mumble against his plush inviting lips.

Bucky hums in reply, to completely and utterly enthralled by your seductive charm to even form a coherent sentence, you smirk before rising to properly sit up against him, “Bucky, you look better in the dark.”

His stomach rises with a deep laugh that rubs pleasingly against your growing warmness as he gently squeezes a hand on your right thigh, “You’re gonna get it for that one.” He muses, appearing like he’s about to flip you over but you’re not having any of that.

Pressing a hand against his firm chest, you suddenly grind your clothed nether regions slowly and meticulously against his lower stomach. He quickly lets out a low guttural moan as you lean down to press a chaste kiss against his lips.

Pulling away, you rest one hand on the thin Wakandian blanket that’s keeping you two from the dirty ground below, your other hand gently trailing down the side of his stubbly face, “Just let me make love to you okay? If you want that i...”

“Yes!” Interrupts Bucky with a great bout of enthusiasm before catching himself, “I mean....uh, yes please.” He mutters, failing to regain his composure as you circle your hips against his fiery skin. Oh, you are certainly enjoying yourself.

Smiling into the half moonlight, your eyes trail cautiously over to the burning village bond-fire a small trek away, seeing everyone laughing and minding their sweet business you then immediately pull your shirt off, your bra following right after just as quickly. Laying discarded on the nearby grass for later; Bucky’s eyes go wide with lust as the outline of your curves and protruding breasts flash like gold in the moonlight.

God you’re so beautiful, he thinks, and all mine.

The smile that Bucky gives you could just about light up a room on the darkest of nights, he wants you, he needs to be consumed by you, to feel you for all that you are. You can see it by the way that he rubs your partially exposed thigh, by the way his eyes never leave yours and when they do it’s to wander around your divine vessel.

He’s never been more in love then in this very moment, if that’s even possible; he’s never really spoken too deeply about it, his time with Hydra. But he’s undoubtedly glad that you found him when you did, he was in a dark place then. Lost and alone, on the run and keeping to the shadows as best he could from the rest of the hungry eyes of the world.

Then one day out of the blue you showed up with nothing but your wits and a kind smile to show you meant no harm, all you wanted was to see him again after all that time apart from your escape and his imprisonment with Hydra. He was sent to kill you, but you came back to him anyways.

He didn’t understand it at first, when he began to realize what falling in love truly felt like, but with time it came to him. At first sight wasn’t something that happened by any means, he was nervous to see you, standing there so innocently in his apartment in Bucharest. He thought he was being careful, he thought he was safe.

But then Hydra’s most prized weapon and most difficult one at that, you, had shown up to make sure he was okay. He couldn’t believe it, but what scared him the most as he let you stay with him, he was slowly but surly beginning to fall in love with you.

Now that was a new feeling he hadn’t felt in decades, you intrigued him, made him laugh with the simplest of offhanded side comments, made him try to be a better person. And most of all you made him feel wanted and loved, and that is something he will always hold dearly to his very heart and soul.

Because as you’ve said to him, you’re his ride or die no exception, you’ll always be there to throw a punch for him or to gather himself in your arms when the darkness threatens to consume him for all he’s worth.

You’re not afraid of him like so many are, you don’t run from danger, oh no, when Bucky’s concerned. You’re ass will fight to exhaustion to keep him safe and alive. Which so far has proved a very useful state of mind in consideration to the past events that have currently led you two on this ever changing roller coaster.

From Bucharest to Berlin, a flight to Siberia and a long skip down to Wakanda; you two will be by each other’s side no matter the distance. Because to put it bluntly, you’re all Bucky has left in the world and Bucky is all you have either, one without the other would be a dreadful existence.

Luckily for you, Bucky’s incredibly alive and doing pretty damn alright all things considered. Also for the current moment, he’s becoming an undone mess underneath you. Which is just what you’ve wanted, he deserves it.

Trailing a fiery pathway of butterfly kisses from his collarbone all the way up to his neck and jawline, Bucky emits a deep groan of pleasure as you palm him through his baggy pants that have started to tent with the pull of his growing hardness.

His lower half is still clothed while your whole body is free for the shimmering stars to bear witness to, and Bucky of course. “Y/N. Please.” He rasps as you feel up his clothed manhood while you grind tirelessly against his bare stomach, the sensation no doubt drawing you into a blissful rising climax to follow.

Stopping your pleasurable attack to his hardened member, you swiftly roll off of him as you decide it’s time to get things rolling, “Alright hot stuff get that shit off, I need you inside me right the fuck now.”

“Give me a sec...” Grunts Bucky as he kicks off his pants into the grass before you help him prepare to slip off his underwear, holding the top rim of the fabric, you generously pull it to his ankles before he kicks them off completely.

He chuckles as your face flashes with delight once all the goods are finally shown at long last, “See something you like?” Quips your man as your head snaps up to meet his amused gaze, huh were you staring?

A hot second later you’re hovering directly above his heated body as he strains from grabbing your soft hips and pushing your slick entrance into him. He wants you to enjoy yourself more then anything in the world, so instead does he pull you in for a heated kiss.

“I see many things that I like.” You whisper against his soft lips before slowly sinking down onto him, the sensation of his fullness and girth pulling you into a world of bliss.

Your smile is almost provocative as he moans, the sounds of his pleasure sending sparks of electricity into your system, “God Buck, you feel so fucking good.” You praise, rolling your hips back and forth against him shamelessly, God he loves it when you sweet talk him

He smirks against the corner of your lips before kissing your cheek, “You.....to-too.” Stutters Bucky while you continue to relentlessly ride him like a wild bull, the rocking of your hips causing him to forget how to properly speak.

He looks absolutely angelic, dark locks spread out upon the Wakandian blanket, shirtless, and face smiling with great happiness and joy that he’s been so terribly deprived of for such a long time. Not anymore. Not if you can help it.

Biting your lip when his member twitches inside you, you’re helpless to stop as a soft voluptuous whimper leaves your parted lips unexpectedly when he bucks his hips into you for some more friction. Noticing how well this new action is being received by you, Bucky does it over and over again until you’re nothing but a moaning mess above him.

Dammit he knows how to make you feel good.

Your body falling fully onto him as he makes you cum hard, “F-fuck.....oh God Buck, fuck me.” You mumble against his lips as he thrusts up into you over and over until he finally spills inside you with a concentrated grunt.

“oh.” You gasp breathlessly as Bucky flips you onto your back in one skilled motion, still deep within your wet warmness as his whole body presses you wonderfully into the soft blanket, “I hope they can’t see us.” You point out as Bucky chuckles before kissing your jawline, strong hips pushing against yours as he parts your legs further with his large body.

“It’s dark out.” Mutters Bucky in reply as he pulls another moan from your sweet lips, “They’re dancing.....and we’re....oh fuck....uhh....yes...” He can’t even finish his sentence as you suddenly squeeze your walls tightly around his cock as a second orgasm hits you, “Dear God Y/N.” Moans Bucky while you trail pink fiery lines down his muscular back.

Smiling against his lips, you fully enjoy the sensation of his thick member sliding in and out of you at a blissfully rapid pace as he continues to make a mess down there with his pleasure inducing actions. You’re incredibly grateful for the fire dance celebration happening a little ways away and all the loud pounding of the tribal drums that masks over the sounds of yours and Bucky’s intense love making on the Wakandian savanna.

Biting your lip, you can’t help when more whiney moans slip from your mouth, he’s a relentless force of lust and love that’s on a mission to see you filled to the brim with pleasure once more. He needs you, he wants every single inch of your heated vessel, he needs you to come for him just one last time.

“Y/N.” Mumbles Bucky against your parted lips as you slowly nod in acknowledgment, too fucked out to think. He smirks, “Cum for me, last time okay.” Says your lover sweetly as his hips roll against your sweaty skin, sending waves of building pleasure on a crash course for your hot core that’s pulsating in delight.

Digging your nails into the slick muscle of his broad back, you suck in a breath while his hard member slides in and out of you with ease. You’re about to come undone right under him yet again, the power of this man you could just about die happy, “Fuck,” You whimper helplessly as he kisses your cheek, “oh God Buck I’m close.”

He smiles proudly as his hips thrust forward, cock sliding deep within your warm walls as his manhood presses on the brim of your entrance, working absolute wonders on your over-stimulated clit.

Soon enough, the tight coil bursts open, sending shock waves of absolute radiant bliss that causes your muscles to tighten and shake reflexively. A sudden wetness slips out around his cock and onto the Wakandian blanket that’s definitely going to need a deep cleaning tomorrow.

The new liquid slides down your inner thighs as your body slowly yet surly comes down from your salaciously erotic climax; head unclouding the thick fog away, you take a deep breath only for yourself to realize you just squirted for the first time ever.

And it appears Bucky has just come to this thrilling realization too, locking eyes with him, you’re greeted with a sly smirk, “Did I just make you squirt?” Muses Bucky in underlying excitement as you simply roll your eyes.

“Well, it’s not like I can deny it considering it’s all over the blanket, among other places.” You sass back, still aware of how he’s still buried deep inside you, “Proud of yourself?” You add with a small laugh.

Kissing your lips in reply, he pushes himself up by his one arm to gently slip out of you before laying in an exhausted heap at your side, “Actually. Yes, I am very proud of myself thanks for asking.” Quips Bucky while his hand trails down your bare rib cage before a huge grin reveals itself in the darkness, “I just made my girlfriend squirt!” Shouts Bucky without a care in the whole goddamn world.

Smacking his arm, you quickly sit up and look around, though it appears no one even knows you two are out here, “Will you shut up!” You whisper yell down at Bucky who’s giving you the biggest white toothed smile ever, “Stop smiling it wasn’t that impressive.”

Faking a half offended look, he pats your leg affectionately, “It was! And you seemed to be enjoying it so just accept that I’ve gotten better at this.”

You scoff, “I never said you weren’t. It’s just we’ve been together for almost three years and that’s the first time I’ve ever done.....that. So..”

“And it just happened so therefore I am amazing and you’re just going to have to accept how hot I am Y/N.”

“Buc..”

“I was getting you all hot and bothered doll.” Winks Bucky seductively as you shake your head at him, a reluctant smile creeping onto your beautiful features anyway.

“God you’re so old.”

Bucky snorts, “And aren’t you 65 or something? Sleeping with a 90 year old man....Y/N you’re getting out of hand.”

Shoving his hand off of your leg, you swiftly fall into his side as his arm curls up to wrap protectively against your waist, “Bucky shut your ass up.” You snicker, “I liked you better when I was on top. All you did was give me that “oh god Y/N oh fuck me ohhh I’m gonna I’m gonna...”

Bucky squeezes your side, “Okay. Okay. I get it you little asshole....let’s just, let’s just rest a moment yeah?”

You hum, shifting yourself so that you can lay against his chest, “Getting mushy on me now Barnes?” You whisper softly with a playful smirk.

A small smile pulls at the corners of his plush lips while he glances down at you, “A little.”

For about twenty minutes the two of you keep silent, just listing to the yelps and thunderous pounding of the drums from farther away. There is no reason to leave, no reason to move, no reason to speak. Just you two, laying wrapped up together in each others loving embrace, taking in the moment for as long as you can. The future is always uncertain, so every single second with Bucky is a blessing to be cherished and consumed for all you can take.

His breaths are slow and steady as you feel the soft rise and fall of his muscular chest that’s pressed against your breasts and face. His fingers run gentle line up and down your naked skin as you hug him close.

“Do you remember when we first saw one another?” Asks Bucky, his voice almost startling you. Lips just barley brush against your naked shoulder as he holds you close, your face nuzzled comfortably against his dark hair.

You pause, eyes blinking as they shift over to Bucky while he awaits an answer, “It was a long time ago Buck.”

“I know. But do you remember?”

Shrugging, you shift a bit to have a better look at his face, “I do. But you were the Winter Soldier and I was.....something I never want to be ever again.” You mutter, the sadness and regret deep in your soft voice.

All goes silent for the next couple minutes before Bucky suddenly kisses your shoulder, “I thought you were beautiful.”

Yours brows raise as you pull from his right grasp to sit up on one elbow while you look down at him, a lump forming in the back of your throat as you hold back tears. You didn’t expect to get this emotional but here you are naked and bare for him, “You did?”

Bucky nods in the darkness, heart hurting when your voice cracks, he’s never told you a word about how he felt when he was a weapon, “And every day after that.”

“oh.”

“I didn’t want them to.....well, you know.....I didn’t want to forget you.” Confesses Bucky, “I’m so fucking glad I didn’t. Thank you for finding me Y/N....I owe you my life.”

Biting the bottom of your quivering lip, he smiles adoringly up at you, “Bucky....shut up you’re going to make me cry you bastard.” He laughs as you indeed shed a couple stray tears in this soft moment of vulnerability with your sweet man as he holds you protectively in his arm.

“I mean it...every single word, you mean so much to me Y/N. The world would be a darker place without you in it...”

You lower your head in shame, all those buried memories piling up all at once, “No. No it wouldn’t be....I’m part of the darkness Bucky...you know that..”

“Y/N, look at me, please.” Begs Bucky as you begrudgingly lift your head for him to meet your tearfully sad eyes, “Don’t let them win. What they did to us, what they made us do....you’re so much better then all of that. We’ve changed Y/N, for the better and you know it...the words can’t break me anymore and you, you’re free.”

“Okay.” Is all you’re able to rasp out before more tears fall willingly from your eyes, tiny water droplets of grief and remorse pattering against his bare chest, Bucky’s heart breaks for your pain and loss, and everything those fuckers at Hydra put you through before your escape to freedom.

He knows how much you hate yourself for all the innocent people you killed, granted not many were adherently innocent, but there where many that died by your hand because wrong place wrong time or by Hydra manipulation. Selling you false secrets that painted some people who were indeed good, as the enemy equal to the worst kinds of humans.

He knows, and he refuses to let you fall into this dark pit of despair, “I love you...okay, Y/N I love you so fucking much.” His words are well heard and received as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

There he holds you tightly, there he will protect you with his life, and there he will stay with you under the stars until dawn breaks out over the horizon.

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94 @iamasimpingh0e

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel #tfatws #the avengers imagine #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x you #james buchanan barnes

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Go the Distance

Prompt: Hello, I absolutely adore your work 🥺😍🥺 your Sanders Sides angst is just so goooood!!! If you're up to it, I'd love to request a fic <3 Virgil has noticed [side(s?) of your choice; they're all good choices, I can't decide ;-;] has been distant and avoiding him and he just can't figure out what he did wrong but it's actually because [side] loves him and are trying to take some time to 'get rid of/push down their feelings' The angster the better but don't push yourself ^ Feel free to add or change whatever Have a great day and no worries if you don't do this 💜💜💜~@im-an-anxious-wreck 💜🖤

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re the best

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, some lite™ angst

Pairings: prinxiety, background platonic dlampr because found family dynamics motherfuckers

Word Count: 4191

Virgil and Roman's relationship hasn't always been, well, great. But it's been getting better!

Or, at least, it was.

Listen, Virgil knows he and Roman haven’t exactly had the most…painless history. Virgil’s introduction to the series was Thomas telling Roman his dream was to get rid of him and, well, Roman was first and foremost loyal to Thomas. Then the whole…insult thing, ducking out, and the absolute mess of the callback wedding debacle, it’s not exactly been smooth sailing.

But—okay, and maybe they’d been a little harsher about things than absolutely necessary, and maybe Roman got hit with the consequences of their fights more than Virgil, and maybe Virgil hadn’t exactly been…overwhelmingly accepting of all of Princey’s little ticks.

But they’d still been talking!

After the wedding, no one was on good terms with anyone save Patton and Janus—and wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime—and Remus and Virgil. Because they made the smart choice and decided ‘nope, fuck that, I’m out.’

It was a good choice. You have any idea how high their scores are in GTFO now? The first rundown’s a fucking cakewalk.

Anyway.

They’d been talking! Virgil still doesn’t know exactly what happened right after—he saw the video, of course he saw the video, but Roman sunk right to his room and there’s a good twelve hours between that and the next time Virgil saw him—but Roman had come out and approached him!

Probably because he was still hurt by the end of the video—which oof, Virgil does not blame him for, that was harsh—and his only options were Logan, Virgil, and Remus and Logan, um, didn’t want to see anyone for a while and Remus is Remus.

Side note: those two have been getting on better. Something about their twin Creativity thing meant Remus knew that Roman was hurting bad before even Thomas did.

But Roman did seek him out, asking him quietly if he had a moment, just a moment, to sit together. Virgil had shrugged and passed it off as nothing only for Princey to literally sit on the floor and not make a fucking noise. He’d frowned and poked his shoulder, asking if he was alright.

“Perfectly fine, Dark and Stormy,” Roman had said lightly, “and I’ll leave you in a moment.”

“But you’re…” Virgil had waved to his silent form. “…not acting like you normally do.”

Roman had laughed. “And here I thought I’d never hear you say you missed me being loud.”

“Now let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Sure enough, a few more seconds had passed and Roman had gotten up, quietly bid Virgil good day, thanked him, and left.

You bet your ass Virgil sunk straight into Patton’s room to ask hey what the fuck did you do to Roman.

Patton had sighed and said that they’re not sure what to do now—‘they’ being Janus and Patton. Virgil, still recovering from the whiplash of those two being close had shaken his head and told them to get it the fuck together.

If he sunk into Remus’s room to ask how to take care of Roman, that’s his business. It’s also his business if he tackled Princey in a hug two minutes later.

So. Talking.

Roman, for all he talks, doesn’t really say much. The few things he does say are easily passed off as jokes, off-handed comments that no one really pays much attention to.

Not that anyone pays nearly enough attention to Roman, come on, guys, he makes it easy.

But Roman talked to Virgil. He’d come in and sit and Virgil would sit next to him, trying to make sure his arm didn’t burst into flames from where it was pressed against Princey—the dude’s a fucking space heater, okay?—just to listen. Some of the time it was Disney rants—okay, most of the time it was Disney rants—but some of the time…

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Roman looked down at his costume. Today was repair day, unofficially called when Virgil’s hoodie ripped during the night and Roman’s sword cut through his sleeve. Virgil looked up from his own mass of fabric, needle stuck in carefully so he wouldn’t prick himself. He frowned at the look on Roman’s face.

“What’s up, Princey?”

“Do you think my logo looks bad?”

Virgil blinked in shock. Roman didn’t look up and see the surprise on his face, instead running his thumb slowly over the patch on the costume.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Princey?”

“It’s so complicated,” Roman said, still looking down, “Logan and Patton have really simple ones. You have a pretty simple one.”

“Janus doesn’t. Remus doesn’t.”

“Yeah, but they’re…”

Virgil frowned deeper, putting his hoodie on the ground and shifting closer to Roman. The prince didn’t even look up, still clutching his logo in his hands.

“They’re what, Roman?”

Roman swallowed. “…allowed.”

A growl sounded from Virgil’s throat before he knew what was happening.

“And you’re not?”

“Hmm?”

“And you’re not allowed, Roman?” Virgil gripped his shoulder. “Look at me, Princey.”

Roman looked up. Virgil swallowed another growl at the despondent look on the prince’s face. Instead, he gripped Roman’s shoulder tighter.

“No one,” he said firmly, “is allowed to tell you your logo is bad. You hear me?”

Roman blinked.

“I mean it, Roman,” he said, softening his voice a little, “it’s you. It’s yours, no one’s allowed to tell you it’s wrong.”

“So that’s…okay?”

“Yeah, Princey, it’s okay.”

“Oh.” Roman looked back down at his costume. “Okay. Thank you, Virgil.”

“Anytime.”

Virgil would come to be astounded at how much he means that.

Because, really, now that Roman’s talking? Virgil’s fucking shocked that they didn’t realize how much Roman actually has to offer.

First off, Princey’s smart as hell. Sure, L’s the resident braincell but you can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time.

If Logan tries to tell you he’s not a dumbass sometimes he is wrong.

Roman can puzzle solve with the best of them. Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to write a story? A script? Understand how all those moving parts fit together and make sense as a whole? Virgil sure as hell didn’t. He spent one afternoon trying to help Roman only for it to end up as Roman explaining what he was doing and Virgil frantically trying to keep up. Don’t even get him started on how impressive the Imagination stuff is.

“It’s my job, Fall Out Brood,” Roman laughs every single time Virgil expresses how fucking cool this is, “have to be good at something.”

And Roman is. He’s good.

Second: Patton may be the heart, Logan may be the brains, but no one is as good at reassuring him as Roman. Probably has something to do with the Creativity gig. Roman had asked, politely, if Virgil would be comfortable telling him what to do when he gets really anxious, whether to leave him alone, get him somewhere safe, get him things, what have you. Virgil had told him, bemused, only to be shuttled into somewhere that screamed safewarmcomfortableeverythingisokay the next time he had a panic attack. Roman, with the lack of shame truly becoming of a theatre kid, had no problems cheering him up by loudly declaring he would fight whatever shadowy figures plagued his little nightmare, swatting at the air with his sword until Virgil’s sobs had turned into giggles. He never made Virgil talk about anything if he didn’t want to, didn’t try to sit and work through things if they weren’t ready, and never touched him unless he’d gotten the okay. The first time Virgil told him he’d be fine with receiving hugs in the aftermath was the warmest he’d felt in years.

Princey gives really good hugs.

Third: Roman’s fucking funny.

Remember the whole ‘smart as hell’ thing? Know how Logan’s funny as fuck too when he lets himself be?

Virgil’s lost count of how many times he’s had to gasp out for Roman to shut the fuck up because his sides hurt too much from laughing. He ends up sprawled across the fucking floor or the couch or Princey’s bed, dying very happily but painfully because Roman won’t stop making him laugh.

Most of the time it’s due to something they’re watching and Roman’ll notice some detail that he picks apart until they’re both howling or Virgil will make one sarcastic comment that turns into a full fucking bit for like…ten minutes. Roman will just keep riffing off of the smallest thing until he’s laughing too hard to keep going—not very likely—or Virgil will flail out desperately and smack him—much more likely.

Princey said he makes fun of the things he loves.

…maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Virgil anymore.

Virgil curls tighter around the pillow, clutching it to his chest. As he rubs his cheek against it, he grimaces. It’s too rough. It’s not warm enough. It doesn’t smell right.

They’d been talking. It had been good.

But that was before.

Before Roman had cautiously approached Logan with an apology, the offering of a new planner for him, the promise to listen to him, hear him out, give him space to speak. Logan had accepted.

Before Roman had opened the border between his and Remus’s side of the Imagination, sending a little puppy scuttling over to his brother’s castle with a note, a dagger, and a vial of acid. It returned as a kitten with a beautifully poisonous rose.

Before Roman had finally, finally, after days of trying, opened the door when Patton knocked, letting him come inside so they could talk, about everything that happened since…well, ever. They hadn’t stopped hugging long enough to walk down the stairs.

Before Roman had let Janus, Janus, take care of him.

And now…

Now Roman didn’t want to be in the same room as him.

It feels as if they’re walking on eggshells around each other again, Virgil appearing in a room only for Roman to completely disappear, getting up and leaving a conversation entirely just to avoid him, Virgil knocking on Roman’s door only for Roman to shout that he’s busy, not to come inside, Virgil, trying, trying to figure out where Roman’s gone, what’s happened, only to receive the cold shoulder.

A problem none of the other Sides seemed to be having.

He clutches the pillow to his chest.

Did he—did he do something wrong?

Does Roman—does Roman not like him anymore?

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard about talking to the others. Roman needed space, needed time, he didn’t need someone else breathing down his neck. He should’ve let Roman set the pace, listened more, been kinder to him when he needed reassurance.

Maybe he shouldn’t have made Roman think it was his fault that the others were taking so long, or suggested that if he wanted things to get better he should try talking first. Roman had been taught by everyone else that things were his fault already, Virgil didn’t need to jump on that train too.

Maybe he should’ve been kinder to Roman, less focused on making the others understand that they hurt Roman. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Roman was hurt, Virgil should’ve helped fix that, taken care of Roman, not pushed the blame onto everyone else.

Maybe Roman didn’t like what he had to say about Disney films. They were Roman’s comfort watches, the last thing he needed was for someone to cruelly rip away his enjoyment of one of the few things he could enjoy.

Maybe Roman didn’t like Virgil’s way of taking care of him. Virgil never pushed, never did Roman the courtesy of asking, like Roman did with him, just assumed he knew best how to comfort someone and left it there. Roman might’ve needed more hugs, more time, less distraction, just something other than what Virgil gave him.

Maybe Roman didn’t like how much Virgil ended up hoarding him to himself. Not letting him go to the others for comfort, just to work things out. Maybe he thought Virgil was just keeping him upset so he could hang out with him more.

Or maybe…

Virgil muffles his sob in the pillow.

Maybe Roman needed or wanted him anyway.

Maybe Roman was just waiting until he could get the comfort he actually wanted. Maybe he waited until the others were easier to talk to so he could go back to what he really needed. Maybe Virgil was just a placeholder until Roman could get hugs from Patton and Remus, talk with Logan and Janus, not him. Never him.

Maybe that’s…okay.

It’s not, it won’t be fucking okay for a long time, but one day, it will be okay.

Virgil curses and throttles the pillow in his arms, wishing for it to be real, to be warm, to be a chest of white and gold and a splash of red, for it to wraps its arms around him and say it’s okay, shadow-ling, I’m here, I won’t leave you, shh.

But it’s just a pillow.

Has his room always been this cold?

Have Disney movies always looked this flat?

Has music always sounded this gray?

Has Virgil always been this alone?

He can hear them in the living room below him. He can hear Roman and Logan throwing quips back and forth, can hear Remus tackling his brother into the wall, and Roman protesting. He can hear Janus scolding Remus and checking to make sure Roman’s not injured, can hear Roman wave him off gently and go right back to verbally sparring with Logan. He can hear Patton laughing too hard, falling off the couch and begging the two of them to let up, let him breathe, can hear Roman coo and call him sweet, adorable, in that soft voice he only uses when he’s talking to someone he cares about.

Can’t hear any of them worrying about where he is.

Maybe it’s better this way.

He got greedy, took too much of what was never his to take, what wasn’t given to him freely. He latched onto the first thing he thought was for him and didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t. He may think he’s been included in the famILY but he knows he’s still an outsider.

He may be Virgil now but deep down he’ll always be Anxiety.

So here he will stay, in the cold of his room, in the dark of his face smushed into a pillow that will never be real. He will stay and he will be happy.

But not today.

He sniffles and smears his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, not bothering to pull away from the pillow long enough to wipe tears properly. His limbs start to protest as he hugs it tighter, tighter, tighter, but it’s no use. He can feel his own arms through the pillow. There isn’t enough—there’s too much give in the pillow. It’s just a fucking pillow but it’s not enough.

Another laugh from downstairs and Virgil growls, burying his head in the pillow until he can’t hear himself think.

Can’t hear anything but his own muffled sobs ringing in his ears.

Can’t hear anything other than the thought swirling around and around his head that he’ll never be enough, that he’ll never be wanted, that he’ll never be anything other than Anxiety.

Can’t hear the soft knock at the door.

“Virgil?”

The voices in his head must be getting pretty powerful because he’s certain he can hear Roman calling for him. He buries deeper in the pillow.

“Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?”

Yes, he thinks, yes, I can hear you, which means I’m not crying hard enough.

“Can I come in, shadow-ling?”

Yes, he thinks, come in and make me forget that you don’t need me anymore.

He must really be losing it because he thinks he can hear the door open and close again with a soft click, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a soft coo.

“Oh, shadow-ling,” the imaginary Roman murmurs, “come here, little Stormcloud.”

Oh, his imagination is being cruel to him right now because the sensation of warm arms around his waist and shoulders fucking burns. He buries his face in the pillow until he can’t tell which way is up anymore, not sure how he’s tricked himself into imagining Roman’s cradling him but too unwilling to let the illusion go.

“That’s right, Stormcloud, relax for me, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh, you’re alright,” the imaginary Roman keeps whispering in that cruelly soft voice, “you’re doing great, shadow-ling.”

Virgil wants him to be real. So bad he aches from it. But he knows he’s not.

What happens next breaks his fucking heart.

The imaginary Roman kisses him.

It’s chaste, a barely-there brush of his lips against his forehead but it tears a whine out of Virgil’s throat before he can stop it. The imaginary Roman hushes him gently, pressing another kiss to the part of his cheek not buried in the pillow and it taunts him with how real it feels. The slightly chapped lips, the warm rush of air as Roman breathes, the light brush of his nose as he pulls away.

It’s too much.

It’s too much and he wants it to be real so badly but he knows the instant he pulls away it will vanish and that might just break him.

Then he realizes the imaginary Roman is talking to him.

“Breathe, Stormcloud, you’ve got to breathe,” he coaxes, “I know it’s tempting to stay buried in a pillow all day, but you can’t breathe properly like that, sweetheart.”

No, no, don’t call me sweetheart, I’ll break.

“Shadow-ling, Stormcloud, my darling,” the imaginary Roman says instead, “come on…”

Well, now he’s disappointing imaginary Roman too. Figures. He can’t do anything right.

“Of course you can,” the imaginary Roman pleads, “just breathe for me, shadow-ling, I’m right here, I’ve got you, you can keep your eyes closed if you need to, just breathe.”

Another whine. Another kiss pressed against his head. The whine grows louder.

“Shh, shh, my darling,” imaginary Roman murmurs, “breathe, come on, just—trust me, okay? Can I ask that of you, Stormcloud?”

And goddamnit, this is why Virgil can’t do anything.

Virgil trusts him.

So he prepares himself for heartbreak and lifts his head.

“Thank you, shadow-ling,” imaginary Roman—wait, he’s still here?—murmurs, rubbing his back, “there you go, now just breathe—oh! Oh, come here, lean on me, I’ve got you.”

Having listed to the side horribly, Virgil lands against a solidwarmsafereal chest and—and—

“R-Roman?”

“Yes, my darling,” not imaginary Roman says, still kissing Virgil’s forehead, “I’m here, I’m here.”

White-hot rage burns Virgil’s tears.

He lets out a yell and shoves, not caring that it throws them both horribly off-balance, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor. He hears Roman cry out, trying to keep ahold of him, but he scrabbles and gets his hands around the bedpost and pulls.

“Virgil—Virgil stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

“Why do you care?” The rage coats his tongue. “You fucking left, you—you—you fucking didn’t care about me anymore, you decided you didn’t want me anymore and you fucking left so don’t try and care now!”

“Virgil—sweetheart, I—“

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He keeps his eyes squeezed tight. “You didn’t give a fuck about me when you left, when you got your fucking family back, you think—you think you can just waltz back in like you didn’t abandon me?”

“Virgil—“

“Because you did, Roman!” Virgil blindly shoves at where the prince was before, knocking him into the wall. “You fucking left me as soon as you got the others back like I—like I never did anything for you and now you—now you can’t even look at me.”

“I’m looking at you now.”

Virgil laughs.

He throws his head back and howls until his chest and throat ache.

“You didn’t give a shit when the others started talking to you. You just fucking up and abandoned me like you never cared about me in the first place. You replaced me with them or—or abandoned me as your placeholder and I’m fucking hurt, Roman.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Silence.

Virgil’s heart stops.

No.

No, no, no, no—

He fucked up.

He fucked up so bad.

Roman left.

Roman’s not here anymore.

Roman left again, he made Roman leave, he—he fucked up so bad, he shouldn’t have yelled, he’s fucked up, he hurt Roman, no, no, no, no—

On instinct, his hands hook into claws.

Only to be caught by warmsolidreal hands and brought to something soft.

“Don’t,” comes Roman’s softsaferealhurt voice, murmuring in his ear as he holds him still, “don’t scratch, sweetheart.”

“Don’t—“

“I know, I know,” Roman says immediately, “you said not to call you that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

…what?

“I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” comes the voice again, “that’s no excuse, I know, but please, Virgil, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to abandon you.”

Virgil swallows. “What the fuck do you call it then?”

“I didn’t want to push my luck.”

What?

“You were being so good to me, Virgil,” Roman murmurs, oblivious to the internal struggle Virgil’s currently facing, “so kind, so supportive, that I…I realized I wanted to ask more from you. Things I had no business asking. And the longer you kept on being you, the harder it was to resist the urge to push and risk shattering everything you’d let me build with you.”

“What—“ Virgil swallows— “what the fuck did you want?”

Roman stills in front of him. With his eyes still shut, he can’t tell what’s going on, but when Roman speaks next his voice is hoarse.

“Before I ask,” comes the whisper, “I want you to know that you have every right to say no. You can push me away, shove me out of your room, stay angry at me for as long as you want. I’ve hurt you, badly, and I have no right to ask this of you. I want you to know that. That I’m okay with you asserting that right.”

Fuck, Princey.

“…what do you want?”

A pause. Then a soft rush of air, right on his face.

“May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“R-Roman?”

“That’s it,” Roman murmurs and oh, his mouth is right next to Virgil’s, “that’s what I want, shadow-ling.”

He shifts a little until Virgil can feel Roman’s warmth.

“That and everything that goes with it.”

“Why—why did you leave? I-if that’s what you wanted?”

“Because that would mean to push,” Roman says immediately, “and the last thing I wanted was to push you away. I thought if I could…rein it in, control it, I could…I wouldn’t hurt you.”

A soft chuckle.

“Look how well that turned out.”

“But the others—“

“I needed Remus to tell me what was going on,” Roman says wryly, “Janus to point out that I was okay in wanting something, Patton to help me figure it out, and Logan to kick my ass into doing it.”

“To…to ask me?”

“Yes, Stormcloud,” comes the whisper, “to ask you.”

“And if I say yes?”

He can feel Roman’s lips turn up.

“…then I’ll kiss you, Stormcloud.”

“Are you really here?”

The question bursts out of him before he can stop it, immediately biting his lip in reprimand for letting it.

“Open your eyes, Virgil,” Roman says softly, “look at me.”

He shakes his head, not wanting it to be imaginary. Not now, not after this. Roman squeezes his hands.

“Look at me, Stormcloud,” he whispers, “look at me.”

Fuck it.

Roman smiles at him, real and warm and soft and here. He squeezes Virgil’s hands again and takes the smallest step closer.

“I’m here,” he says, wrapping Virgil’s arms around his neck, “I’m right here, shadow-ling.”

He’s here.

This won’t fix everything. But it’s one hell of a start.

“Ask me again.”

“May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

Virgil shakes his head. “Not like that. Ask me properly.”

Confusion dances on Roman’s face before realization hits. His smile widens and he brings a hand to Virgil’s head. Virgil clutches Roman tight as he gets dipped into the prince’s arms. Roman leans forward until his mouth almost catches Virgil’s.

“May I kiss you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

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thebiscuiteternal · 3 years

Text

I had an evil thought on twitter and way too many people encouraged it, SO-

“Collecting the Pieces”

Mild Horror, Family Secrets, Mental Instability, Magical Fuckups, Sangyao-lite, Nie Huaisang Doesn’t Know Yet, Jin Guangyao Is About To Know More Than He Ever Wanted To

__________

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang.

It manifests in small signs at first.

Little things like how he would look at a person, but not at them, green eyes dull as if he wasn’t actually seeing who he was talking to. The unnaturally pale tint to his skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. The fact that his robes had gotten heavier over thr last several months, trying to hide that he was getting thinner.

The incident where he had lost consciousness in the middle of a discussion with Ouyang-furen and had only been saved from cracking his skull against the floor by the reflexes of his head disciple was… concerning. But like all of the other symptoms, it could easily be tallied up as exhaustion from lingering grief and having so much responsibility dumped onto an unprepared back.

But then...

Then there are the conversations none of them can hear. Those moments where he sits with his head slightly bowed, staring at nothing and lips moving silently.

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang, and for those not of his sect, his presence has gone from mildly concerning to downright unnerving.

Jin Guangyao has to point out to his father more than once that they have only just averted the conflict with the previous sect leader; to bar the new one from the discussion conferences just because he seems strange would be an insult tantamount to inviting war, even if Nie Hengbai does seem to be doing all the talking for the Nie at the moment, his sect leader a quiet little shadow at his side.

He finds it a unique opportunity to observe, in fact. Everyone is so unsettled by the mere fact that Nie Huaisang converses with empty air that no one has apparently thought to find out what he is saying when he does .

The seating arrangement isn’t ideal. The only person besides his own disciples who doesn’t seem to be scared off by Nie Huaisang’s unnatural behavior is Jiang-zongzhu, who pointedly settles himself on the opposite side from Nie Hengbai and scowls at all gossipers, their host included. His height half-blocks Nie Huaisang from view.

But still, Jin Guangyao can see.

And as he watches the words fall unheard from Nie Huaisang’s mouth, he feels a chill slowly creep up his spine.

‘Da-ge, come back. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll behave. I'll be good. Please come back. Please, Da-ge…’

He is glad that his sleeves hide the involuntary clenching of his hands.

While he knows better than to completely dismiss a possibility, no matter how small the odds, his mind nonetheless rebels at the first idea to enter it. It cannot actually be Nie Mingjue's resentful ghost haunting his little brother. Even if it had been whole, if he and Xue Yang had not scattered it with the man's physical pieces, it is decidedly not Nie Huaisang that the man would be tormenting with his presence if he were capable.

Isn't it?

And yet, he cannot shake the cold in his bones.

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang, and he will seek out the source.

---

"San-ge?"

Nie Huaisang blinks at him, eyes glassy and confused. He tilts his head questioningly like the birds he is so fond of, then slowly regains awareness of his surroundings and smiles, looking more like himself.

Jin Guangyao forcibly clamps down on a shudder. "It's good to see you, Sang-er," he says, allowing himself to adopt the regional address since they are nowhere near the judging eyes of Koi Tower. He reaches out and sweeps the younger man's hair out of his eyes, then tuts in concern. "Are you still not sleeping well?"

"Ah-" Nie Huaisang flinches and looks embarrassed at the gentle chiding. "It's… nothing, really. Busy times and too much paperwork, that's all. Can I get you anything?"

"I just need to look over some map records, if you don't mind. A handful of small sects have brought a problem to my father, and I'm afraid our own records are… a bit lacking."

The younger man simply nods, accepting the excuse at face value, and Jin Guangyao isn't sure if that says something about Nie Huaisang's state of mind, or the Jin sect's reputation for ignoring anything that isn't expenditures or debts to be collected. Either way, when Nie Huaisang reaches out to tug his sleeve, he goes willingly and tries to ignore the slightly unsteady sway to his friend's pace.

Even though the poor end to his relationship with Nie Mingjue had been loud and public enough that the whole of the Unclean Realms knew about it before the day had even ended, he is apparently still a familiar enough face that barely anyone pays him mind.

Indeed, most of their worried glances are directed towards their sect leader.

He refuses to examine the possible reasons why that might be settling sour in his stomach.

They are still a few halls and turns away from the library when Nie Huaisang lets go of his sleeve and puts a hand to his head, looking even more pale than before. Jin Guangyao catches him before he can topple into the wall and then bites his tongue when green eyes slide over him, gaze unseeing.

“Sang-er?” he asks cautiously.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes don’t clear, but he seems to still be at least halfway lucid. “I’m sorry… I don’t feel well. I think I need to stay here. You remember the rest of the way, don’t you?”

“I do, but this is no proper place for you to rest.” He leans around the corner and waves over a passing servant. “Would you assist Nie-zongzhu to his room, please?”

“Of course, of course,” the woman says in a tone that conveys she is apparently -unfortunately- used to this. “Come along,” she says, taking hold of Nie Huaisang’s hand and wrapping a steadying arm around his waist, as if guiding a lost child, and he follows her lead without complaint.

Jin Guangyao watches them go and squashes that sour feeling when it threatens to churn.

Answers.

Answers first.

---

The library he needs, he has decided, is not the primary library, the one that Nie Huaisang had been taking him to. No, he seeks out the room buried so deep in the Unclean Realms that no daylight reaches it, that he had only stumbled upon by accident back when he had been employed here.

Lighting the only lantern in the room with a flame talisman, he finds that nothing has changed since the last time he was here other than a thickening of the layer of dust.

Swallowing hard, he straightens his back and starts with the family records.

---

‘After much deliberation and testimony from the physicians and healers involved in the care of the first young master, it is the advice of the sect elders that- ’

He has relit the lantern twice, and he’s fairly sure it’s long past dinner when he sinks into a chair and slaps the open scroll down onto the table, feeling lightheaded and shaky.

A spirit-tethering.

Until he had seen the books Lan Xichen carried from the library of the Cloud Recesses, such a thing had been the stuff of fantasy stories. Even in the vaunted Lan texts, it was only described in abstract theory.

And yet there was apparently enough foundation to it that a serious proposal had been made to cast such a thing between a pair of children to keep Nie Mingjue from being torn apart by the saber he’d bonded with far too young.

He forces himself to keep reading, feeling his stomach sink with every passage.

Nie Haoran had argued viciously against the idea for two years, even offering himself as the tether, only to be shot down due to his own unstable health. He had only given in when his son had experienced his first qi deviation at eleven years of age.

Eleven years old.

Nie Huaisang would have only been five.

Jin Guangyao bites his tongue again and presses the back of his hand to his mouth to forcibly swallow back the bile that bubbles up in his throat.

The mechanics of the matter only make the horror of it even more stark. The only ones who would have been able to undo the tether would have been the brothers themselves. He finds notes, plans, all written in Nie Mingjue’s sharp-edged calligraphy, of how he would set his brother free once his own health became too compromised but before his mind was too unstable…

But he hadn’t done it.

Hadn’t been able to do it.

He’d deteriorated too quickly.

Instead...

Nausea continuing to roil in his guts like a thunder cloud, Jin Guangyao rolls up the scroll and shoves it back into place with enough force that it crumples, practically fleeing the room even though there is no monster there to escape, just-

It is indeed dark outside as he traverses the hallways, barely able to restrain himself from running.

No one answers when he knocks at Nie Huaisang’s door. He sucks in a sharp breath to ground himself, then carefully pushes it open.

The room is as stark as he remembers from his last visit. Though he knows he Lan Xichen have both offered to help, Nie Huaisang has yet to start replacing any of the possessions that his brother had burnt. There is a tray of food on the table near the bed, untouched and probably long cold.

The person he’s seeking is curled up on the bed on top of the covers, still fully dressed. Fingers twitch and scratch at his own arms as he shivers, most likely in the throes of a nightmare.

His lips are moving.

Jin Guangyao doesn’t dare read them.

He closes the door behind him and crosses the room to the bed. Nie Huaisang doesn’t react to the dip in the mattress as he sits down, nor to being pulled and shifted until the younger man’s head rests in his lap. When he gently removes the guan from his hair and begins combing out the braids, however, the fit finally eases, the anxious lines of Nie Huaisang’s face smoothing out as he calms.

Jin Guangyao closes his eyes for a moment and sighs.

He now knows what is wrong with Nie Huaisang, and he knows he is at fault.

He could lay the blame elsewhere. He wants to. The elders who’d made the proposal... Nie Haoran for allowing it... the healers who’d carried it out… It is most tempting to blame Nie Mingjue for having not undone it as soon as they were both grown.

But no. The fact of the matter is that Nie Huaisang’s condition can be laid at his feet. Had he not hastened Nie Mingjue’s death… He doesn’t regret that.

He refuses to let himself regret that.

But this…

Grief could be moved past.

Missing pieces could not.

He opens his eyes to find Nie Huaisang has shifted to curl against him, and he allows himself a small, weak smile as he begins carding his fingers through silken hair again.

He knows what is wrong with Nie Huaisang, and perhaps he can’t fix the damage already done, but there are still things he can do. Information he can find, pieces he can move or remove. He can make things easier.

“It will be alright,” he murmurs, then leans down and gently presses a kiss to the sleeping young man’s temple. The gesture makes Nie Huaisang snuggle closer in his sleep, and his own smile gains strength. “I took care of er-gongzi before, I will be happy to take care of zongzhu now. He is my responsibility, after all.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #fanfic #sangyao

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belpheroo · 4 years

Text

Title: Boyfriends, Bubbles and Bl*w J*bs Pairing: Mammon x MC Summary: …it’s all kinda in the title tbh Warning(s): Includes some lite kinkery with the pact and a money shot cause c’mon, this is Mammon we’re talkin’ about. Rating: 🍋 Notes: I TOLD YA, TWO TRICK PONY. YA GET HURT/COMFORT OR YA GET SMUT AND TODAY???? YOU GET PWP.

This was the first time in a very long time she had woken up in her own bed with someone else in it. Not to say she hadn’t woken up numerous time in other people’s beds with someone else in it. She wasn’t one to take her “work” home with her as it were and though this was not something most people would readily admit, she was flippant and careless in matters others would have considered more serious and personal. Her openness was, in itself, a defense.

When it came to romance, she liked to think she was a femme fatale of a sort. Direct, but distant. Eager, but fleeting. She swept in and out of people’s lives, took what she wanted and hitched out the next morning before anyone could get attached.

Attachment meant trouble; attachment meant expectation and criticism and rejections.

She hated anything that challenged or disrupted the way she wanted to live her life… and yet her she was, watching the boy she loved sleep, cramped in her too small bed in a House in another world, his warm brown skin contrasting against the soft pink sheets.

He smelled so good, that scent trapped now on her blankets and on her skin. Mammon was laying on his stomach, arms tucked under her pillow as he breathed, slow and even. She carefully leant down to just barely trace the tip of her nose through his hair, messy and scented with cedar, musk and just the faintest trace of sweat that made up his own personal smell. It was half cologne, half just him and she wanted nothing more than to drape herself over him and bury her face into the nape of his neck and just… sleep. Sleep and be warmed and safe and cuddle close to this body that was home to one she had come to care for so much.

She resisted that urge, but not the one that told her to trace her fingertips down the curve of his spine right on to the dimples of his lower back. Mammon wiggled, turning onto his side to face towards her, though he was still asleep.

She mourned the loss of his back, but was happy to nestle back down alongside him, faces so close she could just incline her head slightly and brush the tip of her nose to his…. Which she did so, until he mumbled and stirred, eyes opening just slightly.

“Good morning.” She said, and he replied in turn, though his words were lost in a low grumble. Blue eyes shut again, but he uncurled an arm from the pillow to instead curl around her, bringing her against his chest.

“…watchin’ me sleep…human?”

Was all she managed to make out as he spoke, heavy with sleep, like someone had run a dull blade over his voice. She never knew he could pitch down so low and it made some dark devilish little part of her want to pinch him to get him rowdy and awake.

She went with nudging her way forward and setting her teeth gently on his neck instead, biting down with faintest pressure as she hummed into his skin.

“…cut that…” Mammon groaned, but didn’t move away, “…out..”

She released him only to tease, “I wear you out, tiger?”

That got a response. His eyes opened again, a bit wider than before and then he smiled.

“Thought ya didn’t go for pet names.”

“Nope, but you do.”

Mammon’s eyelashes were as light as his hair. How had she never noticed how long they were? When he closed his lids they brushed against his cheeks, but then again he always had those sunglasses on.

She wondered for a moment when he saw when he looked at her… what tiny details or features did he linger on when he looked at her face in the dim light?

“Mammon.”

His eyes opened barely again.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?”

Mammon, to his credit, looked as perplexed as one could manage when half awake and being pestered by a girl he’d literally spent all night making love to. Of course he thought she was beautiful, right? They all thought she was beautiful! But for some reason when she asked him, she felt like she had asked something else… and judging by how slow he was to respond, something made her think Mammon knew she was too.

“Nahh,” Mammon said, a mischievous sparkle waking up behind his eyes, “But you’re cute as hell.”

She sat up and for a moment Mammon worried he’d answered wrong… until she pushed him unto his back and half laid herself onto of him, her cheek pressed into the space above his heart as she sighed contently.

The weight of her was soothing, warm and secure. Mammon trailed his fingers through the back of her hair, curling the soft strands around them and trying to stifle a yawn.

“What about you? Ya think I’m handsome?” Mammon asked with a chuckle.

“Nahhhhh,” she replied, mirroring him. She turned her cheek so she could press a kiss against his chest, “You’re beautiful.”

He scoffed, but didn’t object. She lifted her head to dig her chin into his chest, eyelids half closed as she considered some new devious plot. Mammon knew that look, knew to wait and see what she had planned.

His trust was awarded with several open kisses across his chest, her tongue run flat over the tight peak of one of his nipples before she began to make her way downwards. She was tracing the tip of her tongue up the hollow of his stomach when she felt his cock twitch beneath the sheets.

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes as she worried the skin at the V of his waist with her tongue and saw he had a hand pressed over his eyes, his other gripping behind his head on the pillow.

Despite this, she could see… he was watching beneath his palm, face flushed and lips parted, but miraculously silent.

She nipped at him and was satisfied by how he flinched and yelped a small moan.

“Mammon… “

The pact mark glowed at her throat, mirrored on his own.

“I want to hear you.” She said, right before she untangled the sheets from him and slid his boxers down beneath his erection, half-hard. The cool air made him flex and bounce, her hand encircling at the base of his shaft and giving him just enough time to let out a ragged, “F-fuck…” before she pressed her lips to his head and slowly slipped him into her mouth.

At first, he could resist making too lewd of noises, which just wouldn’t do. As she slid to his tip, she pressed her lips firmly around the ridge of him and sucked. She was not gentle. Then down she moved, releasing the pressure and letting her tongue caress along the bottom of his shaft. Up and down. Back at the tip, she sucked again and this time Mammon cried out, desperately reaching down to curl his fingers in her hair and tug.

“Please… oh god, please, I’ll fuckin’… I’ll lose it if ya keep doin’ that, I’ll fuckin’ cum in two seconds, please please please…”

She moved her mouth off him with an audible “pop”, smiling as he stared, wide eyed and positively mortified at the words that had left his mouth.

“T-take it back!”

“Well if you insist…” she said before tracing the tip of her tongue along his slit.

“Not! Not what I-ahh… ah!” Mammon pressed his fist to his mouth as a ragged groan nearly turned into a shout when she licked him up back into her mouth and gave two fast pumps. She stopped again, loving the lewd wet noise it made when she let him go.

“…the p-pact. Take it back. I… listen, I’ll wake up the whole damn house! I know I will!”

“Promise?”

Mammon sputtered a noise of protest, but in her hand, his cock jumped.

“Be honest, Mammon.” The pact mark glowed again, “Do you want me to stop?”

He practically melted beneath her, breath coming in short pants as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment and then quietly shook his head ‘no’. He was resisting the pact, but she didn’t need to do anything except wait.

Slowly, the compulsion brought the words forth, “…don’t stop. I’ll fuckin’ die if ya stop.”

“We can’t have that, can we sweetheart?”

It was amazing what a tiny pet name could do to him. He only ever called her “human” and she wasn’t overly fond of cutesy nicknames… but the way Mammon eyes would soften as if it were the kindest words ever spoken to him… well that made her more than happy to use them.

“I’ll take care of you.” She said quietly, tenderly rubbing her free hand up and down his thigh before she leaned down and engulfed him again in the soft wet heat of her mouth. Mammon’s grip on her hair went lax, lifting back above his head as he pressed his palm flat against the headboard, grounding him. It was almost unbearable resisting the urge to thrust up into her mouth, but he knew well enough she would use the pact if needed to keep him still. The thought alone sent shivers of pleasure up and down his spine, pre-cum leaking from his tip. She drew back, wiping the corner of her lip with her thumb before using it to smear the fluid over his head.

“You’re getting all messy… it’s like, really sexy.”

Mammon moaned at her words alone, trying still to hide his expressions behind his hand from her. He knew he looked wrecked, he always did when she got like this.

“I thought you’d bust when I teased you, but you’re doing such a good job, baby.”

“Well.. yeah. I’m the Mammon… I’m… the best, right?” Mammon found himself saying, unbidden and compelled by the pact. She wanted to hear him. She wanted him to be honest. He couldn’t deny either request now.

“You are the absolute best.” She said, using her hand now in place of her mouth to stroke up and down along the warm heat of him, slow and gentle. Just enough to keep him hard, but not enough to get him further along that edge.

“So good, I’ll even let you pick.”

“Hnn?” Mammon uncovered his face, looking down at her now curiously.

“Whether you get to cum in my mouth or on my face.” She said, her lips curving into a smirk. Mammon silently thanked whatever presence of mind had her decide to grip her hand low at the base of him when she said this or he was fairly certain he’d have finished right then and there and that would have been the opposite of being the Great Mammon.

“So?” she said with a teasing nudge.

“I-I’m not picking that!”

“Maaaaammooooon…” she said in sing-song voice, “Be honnnnest!”

“Ya sound like Asmo!”

“Ouch! And you meant that!? You wanna get punished?” She said with a hum, licking her lips before she pressed a kiss to the underside of his ridge, parting her lips a little further so she could give him a small warning suck.

“…y…ye— unh…may…be.”

“Are you a kinky boy, Mammon? Hmm…I could ask so many other questions!”

That did it.

“F-fine! Uh… so, either is okay?”

She had him back in her mouth at that point, rested just on the flat of her tongue as she rubbed back and forth along the underside of him. She hummed a positive, the vibration feeling as though it shot right up his spine.

The pact drew the honest answer out of him.

“…face.”

She giggled, clearly pleased he had given in. The pace she set now was slow and she wasn’t stopping anymore to tease or torment him. In fact… she had closed her eyes and in doing so, Mammon felt it easier to watch her. He wanted to watch, it just… made him feel so vulnerable. Mammon knew she knew, that he was hers and that she had all the power in Heaven and Hell to utterly destroy him with a look, with a cross word… and yet she didn’t.

Her touch was gentle as she moaned softly around him and Mammon found the pact didn’t need to drag any sound out from him now, he gave them willingly. Mammon repeated her name like a hymn, expletives mixed with gasps of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ joining the chorus until he lost his will for words and could only whimper his encouragements.

Mammon didn’t need to tell her when he was edging too close, she could feel it in the way his breathing sped up and his pulse thrummed against her tongue. He’d sat up, pushing up onto his forearms in anticipation and she didn’t disappoint.

Right before he burst, she pulled back, wet heat spattering unto her lips and cheek as his hips jerked and his thighs practically shook from the force of the release. Her touch was exceedingly light and gentle as she worked him through it, squeezing that last bead of cum out of him with a satisfied sigh before she licked him clean.

“Wow.” She said and Mammon could only huff his agreement. With much effort, he scooted to grab a box of tissue off her bedside table and sat up to offer it to her.

“What? You don’t wanna admire your work longer?” She said with a smile, running her thumb across her cheek and into her mouth. Mammon’s hand did lower slightly as he looked at her, feeling somewhere in his chest that avatar of greed growl with utmost satisfaction… Mine. Hers.

“I-it can’t be nice for ya.”

“Oh it can be. Just seeing your expression makes it worth it!”

She plucked a few tissues and cleaned up, taking a few more to do the same to him.

“Ya don’t have to do that.”

“I said I was going to take care of you. Didn’t I?” she crawled forward across him until Mammon was forced to lay backwards, the sight alone enough to make him feel a stirring of desire creep through him again. He was a demon after all.

She seemed to be considering something, and then with a bright smile she concluded suddenly, “Let’s take a bubble bath! You get to wash my hair. I get to wash your everything. Whatcha say, THE Mammon?”

Whether it was the pact or his own exhaustion, he said yes without hesitation.

—

Fifteen minutes later, in the bath…

“So! You gotta use this jasmine pre-shampoo masque first, and then the shampoo. It isn’t gonna lather up much so that is why then you’re going to do the SECOND shampoo and make sure you massage really thoroughly cause it helps the root growth… oh! And then you’ll use this deep conditioning treatment followed up with this ends treatment—“

“Th-this is so much work! It is absolutely the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life and imma tell ya! I’ve done a LOT.”

“Goodie, then you shouldn’t find it too difficult!”

#obey me mammon x mc #obey me mammon #obey me fanfic #obey me lemon #obey me fanfiction #mammon x mc #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me! shall we date?

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neverendingstories00 · 4 years

Text

Past The Point Of No Return (Epilogue )

Pairing: Safin x F!Reader

Summary: Five years later, you are a changed woman. You will never go back to normal with the past haunting you every hour. Safin wasn’t going to be leaving your life anytime soon.

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: N/A

A/N: No!! It's the epilogue (the end)!! 🥺 I'm gonna miss writing this piece. It was so much fun to do. I wanna thank you guys for ALL of your support. Reading your comments literally makes my day so much. Safin is such a wildcard to write. I cannot wait until November comes. When NTTD comes out, this won't be canon. I might come back and make changes, but I like the way I left this. You never know what the future holds. I'm working on an Ahkmenrah x Reader so stay tuned. Always remember that I'm taking requests at the moment. If you would wanna leave one, please check out my masterlist! I get really bored hehe. I have school, but I would love some ideas (especially for rami characters!) ;) I hope you guys enjoy this and thank you for this fun ride❣️

Masterlist

Safin was always watching.

Safin had been there that night. Even with three years in confinement, his cold heart couldn’t find a reason to hate you. You were the only reason he kept living on. The woman who had ruined his life was the woman he loved so dearly.

You saw Safin in the corner of the room. Nothing had changed about him; his hair had a few gray strands, big sorrowful bluish-green eyes, and disfigured skin still remained the same. The burning candle in your room only revealed half of his figure. Knowing everyone’s walking pattern, you knew it was him. But instead of being afraid, your shoulders had softened. His footsteps slowly approached the front of your bed, looking upon you. The candle shined in his race, revealing Safin.

When your [y/c/e] eyes met his sad ones, it was like you had been punched in the stomach. The last time you had even talked to him was three years ago in his cell. You promised that you raised the child he left you with, never allowing him to see them.

Along with leaving Safin in the past, a promise you were determined to make was to never love him again.

You broke your promise.

Almost no words were spoken between you two. He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your hair. You wanted to protest since it was the right thing to do. But instead, you responded by accepting the hug.

“I missed you.” Safin cooed. Moving his face away from yours, he made sure to get a look at your face. Three years, and you hadn’t changed at all. You were still his little dove.

“Safin…” You muttered, holding his calloused hands in yours. “How..?”

“It doesn’t matter. All that matters right now is that I’m here, with you.”

As he tried to kiss you, your hands gently pushed his chest as you walked back to get a better look at time. Safin’s hair had outgrown into unruly curls with his disfigured skin paler than before.

“It does matter. If they find you, yo-”

“Kill me?” Safin rolled up his sleeve to reveal that he had taken out the chip inside of his body. Without it, it would be tricker to find him. He wasn’t one to quit so easily. “I have escaped my death. All of my years in that glass cell were years not wasted. I am free.”

Walking past him, you walked towards the window that overlooked your neighborhood. Safin followed and stood beside you, hands behind his back. You and Louis had relocated to Covent Gardens. In the daytime, it was bustling. But at night, the beautiful lights shined upon the navy sky. It was taken off M16 records and to stay safe from SPECTRE, but of course Safin had found his way. He always kept to his promises.

“What are you going to now?” You asked to break the silence. “The island was destroyed. All of your work and men are gone.”

“Not all was lost. Primo and Serrano survived. They are planning to relocate to Switzerland, where Heinrich had left his work. I plan to meet them in the Underground.” He didn’t even turn to look at you. “I was coming to say goodbye to you. I know you will not come, I understand that. But, I ask of one favor.”

Safin most likely wanted you to stay silent since almost everyone at M16 knew he was after you. A sigh escaped from your mouth as you turn to look at him.

“I want to see my child.” Safin requested, polite, and low. You rolled your eyes, about to walk away. Seeing your disgust, he followed after you, subtlety begging. “I will not take him, or tell him of who I am. Just one look at him.”

You were sick of his bullshit. All he came for was the child. Steal him away and make him his little minion since he was one of the lite. Safin wasn’t a man for emotion. He was a sadistic monster who simply wanted power and control. With one click of a button, all of M16 would have their forces over to your flat in under five minutes. Safin grabbed your hand, causing you to stop.

“Y/n, please. ” He whispered, squeezing your hand. “I will never bother you, or our child again. Once I leave, you will never have to worry about me.”

Louis was asleep. He never woke up to anything. You would have expected Safin to beg you to come, but something about him was different. What was he going to do now that everything he had once known as once. His men had been imprisoned, his work had been mostly destroyed, his island decimated, what did Safin have left?

His wife and child.

It was stupid, far from ideal. But it would take anything to have Safin leave you alone. You started to lead him down the hall, still holding his hand. “His name is Louis. He’s three. Just..be quiet when you enter his room.”

Creaking the door opening, a light shined upon your sleeping child. Louis was curled into a small ball, holding a Moomin plush towards his chest. His room was full of books and toys that had been bought for him by your friends (mainly Bond and Q). A soft, cute mumble escaped from his lips, drool coming from the side. Safin had done the same thing; as a child and a man. Everything about the little boy was Safin. Louis was Safin’s true reflection.

Safin looked at you, a gentle smile on his scarred face. It was the first light of hope he had felt in years. “Y/n...he’s beautiful.”

“Louis...everyone loves him.” You cooed back. Safin and you tiptoed over to his bed, not wanting to wake Louis. Resting yourself besides your child, you move an unruly curl out of his tiny face. “He’s a good boy..”

Safin decided to bend over to get a better look at his son. His creation. He was identical to Safin, especially as a younger child. It was like looking in the reflection, only that Louis was innocent. He had raised in a good home with a good mother. No lab work, tests, or scarring. He got loved, something that Safin had never experienced.

“Louis is so pure. I’m glad he has you as his mother.” Safin explained. He shifted himself right next to you, a hand on your thigh. He whispered, “I’m glad he got his mother’s beauty.”

“I’m going to guess you were a cute little boy, then,” A subtle smile appeared on your face was looked down at your son. Safin’s fingers lifted your chin, getting lost in his bluish-green eyes.

“Your eyes...are sad.” Safin noticed. “Your skin is cold. Your shaking in my arms. Even if you were away from me, you were still sad. You’ve always been sad. You haven’t truly been happy in years.”

“Louis is the only reason I’m alive.” You confessed. “He’s my rock. I look at his face and smile. Out of all of this shit, Louis was the only good thing. I try to be a good mother, but it’s hard. I’ve always had a fear of dying alone. But I’m not anymore because I know it’s coming. Louis will grow up and leave me. It’s just happening faster than I was expecting…”

“Then come with me.”

You were confused by his statement. “What..?”

“You and Louis can come with us to Switzerland. We have a house right in the Alps. Escape all of this pain. Never worry about being alone or struggling to put food on the plate or pay rent. You can disappear from all of this. M16 will never find you or Louis. I will never force myself upon you. I’m not doing this for myself, but for Louis. For you, my love.”

“ I cannot stand to hear you talk about yourself in that manner. You will never be alone if you come with me. I will take care of you. Seeing you like this...I will be unable to live myself.”

It was a lot to take in. Safin was right; you weren’t happy. You had been through so much pain in the past decade; losing a limb, having a child, and so much more. M16 hadn’t done much to help you after your return to civilization. Money was still scarce for you. You wondered if it was better for Louis to live with another family since you were afraid that you would have a breakdown. You loved Louis more than anything in the world and would do anything to make sure he was happy. Now here you were, your husband sitting in front of you, offering a new life. Safin wasn’t lying to your face. He seemed oddly soft and hurt as well. His eyes were full of sadness, just like yours. Looking at him with a conflicted expression, a sigh escaped from your lips, unable to form words.

“What is it going to be, y/n?”

-----

FIVE YEARS LATER

The sky was as navy as it could be, not a cloud in the sky; the grass was unrealistically green and the mountains were decorated in snow. The stars twinkled in the star with the moon illuminating your room. Your Chalet was so closed off from the whole world. No longer did you listen to sirens and mumbled laughter. All that could be heard were the chirping of birds. Closing your eyes, you let the sun beat onto your cold skin. It was pure bliss.

Five years ago, you were a different woman. Someone who was scared and alone. When you had been offered a second chance, you had taken it. Not for yourself, but Louis. Safin had kept to his promise. That fateful night, you packed a bag for you and Louis, saying goodbye to London. It was you, Safin, Louis, Serrano, and Primo now. They were your family now. You made sure to leave a note for your former family and friends; statting that you wanted to disappear. It was hard at first, but you had overcome it. With Louis and Safin, you were truly happy.

Louis, like any child, was scared of Safin at first. His face had scared him, causing the four-year-old to run out of the house. There was a wild hunt for the young boy in the alps. Instead of Primo finding him, it was Safin. Louis had come back with Safin, a connection sparking between them. Now Louis’s was Safin’s little boy.

Safin, under the name Armando, worked in the local town with the mob. You made sure to stay out of it, raising your children. But here and there, you would help new recruits train with there weapons. Even Primo, a skilled mercenary, was impressed by your skills. But just because Safin worked didn’t mean he left you to raise Louis alone.

Safin had spoiled the two of you. He made sure Louis was the happiest little boy in the world. Serrano and Primo could never say no to him. You and Safin had left off on a rough note, but eventually fell back in love. It was hard at first. Being around him was so alien. But you learned that Safin truly cared and loved you. He didn’t take you for himself. All he wanted to do was make you happy, which you finally were.

The chalet was silent as everybody had been preparing to retire. The last time you had seen Safin was at dinner. He placed a kiss on your head as you sat by his side, a hand on your thigh. No matter where you were, he always wanted to have a part of you near. It was the same thing with Louis. Whatever free time Safin had, he wanted to spend it with Louis or you. Whether it be a shooting lesson or an intimate dinner, he always made time for his family.

You peeked into Louis’s bedroom, which was a floor below yours. Louis was growing older and wanted to be more independent. He tried to deny your goodnight kisses and stories. Safin had heard and sat down with him, trying to tell him that it was okay to show emotion for his mother. You, being yourself, decided to eavesdrop. You remembered the words Safin had told Louis.

“If I were you, I would never deny a kiss from your mother. Your very lucky to have a woman like her in your life.”

Louis, from that night on, had proceeded to kiss you every single night, not denying it once.

Louis had been fast asleep. His light had been turned over as his Tintin book was sprawled on the sheets. He still held onto the Moomin plush you had bought him as an infant. He had an odd connection to it and hated to admit it. You tiptoed in and placed a kiss into his curls before exiting the room to find your husband.

You found him in the bedroom down the hallway. The nursery was cozy with the interior of a cabin. Safin stood in front of the crib, holding your little girl, Diana. Safin and you had made another, beautiful creation. Like Louis, Diana had been the mirror image of you. She had your eyes, skin, hair, everything. Safin was enamored with the child. Whenever it cried, he was always the one to comfort it. He would fall asleep in the rocking chair, Diana cuddled in his arms as he snored.

Walking behind Safin, you place a hand on his shoulder to overlook at Diana. “Hey, you two…”

Safin turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before looking back at Diana. “Y/n. I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Three hours ago,” You reminded him. Looking down at Diana, a smile curved on your lips. She was fast asleep in Safin’s arms. “God, she’s an angel.”

“Just like you, my love.” He cooed, placing Diana in the crib. She squirmed before positioning to be more comfortable. Safin placed a hand on your shoulder, pulling you close. “You’re the one who saved me.”

You smirked, quirking an eyebrow. “Someone’s flirty tonight.”

“When I’m around you and our children, of course, I would be happy.” Safin smiled. You playfully rolled your eyes as you walked back to the master bedroom. The two of you had changed into your pajamas. As you sat on your side to take off your prosthetic, Safin had come over and bent down. “Love, let me take it from here.”

“Safin, I-”

Safin simply ignored your stubbornness and grabbed your thigh. It was his way of spoiling you. Upon hearing about your leg, his heart broke for you. He believed that no one such as yourself deserved such loss. You had become used to not having a leg, not really remorseing it as much. But Safin was your husband and was overdramatic about almost everything. He gently slid the prosthetic off and removed the cover, revealing the small stub on your foot.

Safin looked at your stub with a remorseful expression on his face. A smile appeared on your face as you ran your hands through his curls. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt at all.”

“You didn-”

“Safin, it’s okay. Please.” You reassured, holding his face. “It’s the past. Just come to bed, please.”

The former anarchist crawled right next to you, holding you in a tight embrace. His nose was buried in your hair as he played with your end. In response, your hands snaked around his back, holding his close. You looked up with him, smirking.

“Five years passed, and you still haven’t told me about how the hell you found my old flat.” You remarked.

Safin raised his eyebrows, breathing the scent of your vanilla shampoo. “The devil works hard, but I work harder.”

“Come on,” You poked your stub at his thigh. He shifted in discomfort, with a snort coming out of your mouth. “Tell me.”

“Why do you care so much about the past?”

“Why did you care so much about a crippled cryptographer?”

“Good one, my love.” He remarked, pulling your closer to his face. “All these years later, and your fire still burns.”

“Why do you love me?” You asked as you traced little figures into his back.

He furrowed an eyebrow, perplexed. “That shouldn’t even be a question. I could go on for hours about why you are my one and only. If you wish, then I-”

“I took down your whole empire. I let them imprison you for three years, yet you come back for me.”

“I was angry, I will admit,” Safin confessed, stroking your hair. “But...I couldn’t let you go. Knowing that you were alone, raising the child I had left you made me feel horrible. You were so special to me. I married you for a reason. But I was so naive to love. I had never experienced it until I was with you. Being by myself made me realize that...love took time.

“I had forced you to fall in love with me because I was so desperate for the touch of a woman. Every day I thought about your face and the time we had spent together. All I wanted was to make amends with you. Knowing that I had hurt you pained me. I knew that you would want to stay with your job and raise Louis. I had contemplated going to visit you in your flat. I thought you would say no, but look at where we are..”

Your hand caressed Safin’s cheek as you looked into his bluish-green eyes. “Look at us. You have given me two amazing children. It took time, but..were happy now.”

“Thank you, my love. For everything you have done.” Safin brought your lips to his. It was a passionate makeout. His lips were like bread as they captured yours. He could taste the coconut chapstick on your lips. As you separated, you remarked.

“Still..you never told me about how you found my place..”

“Must go on about that?”

“Hey, you were the one who made the first move, not me.” You joked, referring to the first time you had met. Years ago, it was something you struggled to cope with. But now that you were older and happier, you joked to cope with it.

“Well then, not such a clever girl now are we?” A devilish smirk appeared on Safin’s face; your faces close and hot.

“Not such a clever man, no?” You snapped back. Safin responded once again crashing his lips into yours. It started out rough but ended passionately. It became more lazier and sloppier since the two of you were exhausted.

It all seemed too unreal to occur. But it had happened. Over the years, you had learned that you and Safin were different yet similar. You two were broken people who had been left behind in life to fend for themselves. Safin had been angrier at the world than you had.

Not only were two angry, but alone. Love had been difficult for you two to find. You would admit that love wasn’t your thing. If Safin had never happened, then you were positive you would have been fine without getting married. But Safin had been different. When Kidnapping you, all he wanted was company. For someone to love him back. You refused to fall for him at first. All Safin wanted was to win. You weren’t someone that gave in so easily.

But here you laid with a man who had kidnapped now, now being your doting husband with two children.

Safin’s lips parted from yours as he held you in a tight embrace, dozing off. You smiled at his face and moved a curl to get a better view. In your eyes, he was absolutely beautiful. Just in a different way. Curling up next to Safin, you shut your eyes with a soft smile. You feel warm and safe in Safin’s secure embrace. Just like your husband, you fell asleep as you drooled onto his arm.

After years of being conflicted, you finally realized.

You were truly, deeply, and madly in love with Safin.

#rami malek x reader #safin x reader #safin #rami malek #no time to die #james bond #my writing

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platypanthewriter · 4 years

Text

No Expectations

Just an idea that wouldn’t git, so I wrote it. Maybe it’ll leave me alone?

Steve’s eye caught on the new guy tending bar at Harvey’s, and he nearly broke his nose dropping the pint glass into his face. Billy Hargrove wasn’t the very last person he’d expected to run into trying to get another round, he thought—Hitler might might have been more surprising, or Ronald Reagan—but he stared all the same, until Billy looked up and grinned.

“Seen a ghost, Harrington?” he asked, and Steve felt like an idiot for wanting to nod—he knew Max’s brother had made it out of Starcourt Mall, and into intensive care, and then weeks of physical therapy—they’d all taken turns as moral support, helping her pick out awful presents.

Steve swallowed. “Max said you left. ‘Cause your dad’s an asshole.”

“Don’t forget monsters,” Billy grunted, pouring shots with a spin of his wrist, and sliding them across the counter to someone and her gang of friends. “Dunno why you all didn’t get the hell out of—”

“Why come back?!” Steve asked, not because he minded Hawkins, but because of the thick scars across Billy’s shirtless chest. He tried to remember what they’d talked about, the last time he’d taken Max, Lucas, and Dustin to sit around Billy’s bed, the day before he left.

Billy glanced at Steve’s face, then lowered his eyes to the glass he was drying. “Max needs a roommate while she gets her degree, so I’m back.”

“Oh,” Steve nodded, spinning his empty beer glass against the counter. Billy’d laughed, startling both of them, when Steve had helped him get to the bathroom, and he’d nearly fallen. He’d been heavy—and warm, from his blankets, Steve remembered—and Steve had grabbed him with both arms, asking whether he was okay. Billy had started laughing into his shoulder, muttering “shit, shit, sorry, shit,” the whole way down the hall, and left the next morning. “You didn’t say anything,” Steve told his glass, and wished he hadn’t, because it sounded childish once it was out of his mouth.

Billy paused in his plucking of mint leaves to look up. “...what did you—”

“Nothing,” Steve cut him off, looking at the boy who’d shoved him around, hit him with a plate, and nearly died trying to save Eleven. “Nothing.” He stood up to pull his coat back on, and Billy half-fell across the counter, knocking over the ketchup and pepper shaker to grab Steve’s glass.

“On the house,” he said, running to the taps, and Steve opened his mouth to tell him what he’d been drinking, then let him fill it with Bud Lite. “On the house,” Billy repeated, running back to smack it down in front of Steve, so the suds lapped over the edge. “Sorry,” he panted, grabbing it back and wiping the glass. “Here.”

“...okay,” Steve bit his lip, but sat back down, and whover was next to him slammed a fist on the counter, yelling. Billy got them drinks while Steve contemplated his free beer.

He was a third through it by the time Billy stopped in front of him again. “...so,” he said, and Steve snorted.

“You got something to say?” he volleyed back, and Billy laughed, shaking his head.

“Guess I’ll see you around,” he said, flashing a smile.

Steve tipped his head back and drained the glass, and a shot glass slid out of Billy’s hand and clattered to the floor. Steve stood on the side bars of the stool to lean over the bar, watching Billy scramble around with an arm under the cupboards. “...maybe you should learn to bartend,” he suggested, and Billy flipped him off.

“Order a real drink, Harrington—”

“Have to be up early,” Steve told him, grinning down. “Bet you get to sleep in.”

“You wanna know?” Billy pushed himself up, his back and shoulders flexing, and Steve swallowed. Billy brushed off his jeans. “I’m off in two hours,” he said. “If you…”

“What?” Steve asked, feeling strangled.

“If you want to catch up,” Billy said, shrugging, and Steve blinked.

“Um, you’ve been—Max probably told you everything.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Billy shrugged, backing away, and Steve smacked his hands on the counter.

“No, wait, yeah, let’s—let’s catch up!” he said, too loud, and Billy laughed.

That night he sucked Steve off in the parking lot, against his station wagon, and Steve garbled “Holy shit,” and “What the hell” and “You’re so good at this” into a stream of gibberish, sinking to land on his butt on the gravel.

“...some kinda catching up,” Steve panted, his knees on either side of Billy’s.

“Mmn,” Billy leaned in, heavy against Steve’s chest, kissing up the side of his neck.

“Your place or mine?” Steve whispered, and Billy stilled, then laughed.

“Can’t get enough of me?” he asked, and Steve snorted.

The next morning, Steve got dressed, brushed his teeth, and then crawled back over the covers, kissing Billy’s shoulder and the side of his head as he laughed, curling deeper into the blankets. “You haveta work today?” Steve whispered, and Billy rolled to blink up at him.

“Mmpf?” Billy asked, squinting up. “...why?”

“I’ll be done in an hour or two,” Steve told him, letting his thumb rasp against Billy’s stubble. “Want me to bring back some food?”

Billy stared up at him for a second, then nodded. “If you want to come back here.”

“Do you have to work?” Steve asked again. “I can make myself scarce.”

“Nah, I can go again,” Billy propped himself up on his elbows. “Kick me awake later.”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve rolled his eyes, and leaned in for a kiss Billy dodged.

“Morning breath, asshole,” Billy whispered. “Hey.”

“Mmn?” Steve asked, standing on one leg to tie his shoes.

“Wait, dickbird, tell me you love me, if we’re gonna play house.”

Steve leaned on the bed again to shove his blanketed bulk, but leaned in to smack a kiss on Billy’s head. “See you later, babe, love you, g’bye,” he said dryly, and Billy rolled away, groaning into his pillow.

When he showed up later, Billy was sitting on the arm of the couch, peeling the label off a beer bottle at eleven am. “Didn’t know whether to lube up or set out the candles and tablecloth,” he said, laughing, and Steve walked around for another kiss.

“Honey, I’m home,” he told Billy, who pressed up against him, wrapping a leg around Steve’s butt. “Daydrinking without me?”

“Welcome back,” Billy whispered, grabbing Steve around the shoulders and falling back onto the couch, so they landed in a pile of limbs. “Thought maybe you stood me up.”

“In sickness and in health, right,” Steve said against the skin of Billy’s throat, and Billy grabbed him tighter.

“You’re so goddamn weird,” Billy laughed. “How long you gonna play house with the town fag?”

“What?” Steve stopped mid kiss, breathing against the buzz of Billy’s voice in his throat.

“No, nevermind,” Billy snorted. “I’ll get it when you stop returning my calls, right.”

Steve pushed himself up, doing a pushup to stare down at Billy Hargrove’s grinning face. “What? You—”

“Ssh,” Billy pulled him down again, and in the ensuing kisses, Steve forgot what he’d wanted to say.

Every so often Billy’d ask again—“How long’re we gonna play house, Harrington?” and Steve would stop to ask what that even meant, and Billy would distract him again, and demand flowers, chocolates, or a welcome-home kiss.

He didn’t even seem to know what to do with flowers, Steve realized—he just stood staring at them, until Steve rescued them back, cut off the ends, and filled the blender with water as the closest thing to a vase. For Valentine’s Day, he brought over the biggest, pinkest, sparkliest heart-shaped box he could find, and licked melted chocolate off Billy’s abs, thighs, and eventually, everywhere else. The next day, he replaced the sheets.

When Steve sped over from work and walked in on lit candles, covered dishes, and Billy pulling garlic bread out of the oven, Billy said, “Five month anniversary, right?”

Steve tried to remember what day it even was, kicking his shoes off, and Billy laughed, backing away.

“Just playing,” he said quickly. “Just playing house.”

“I like playing house,” Steve told him, sliding in his socks across the linoleum to kiss Billy’s neck where he was bent, frowning into the tinfoil. “Need to talk to you about that.”

“...thought you might,” Billy said, stopping his inspection to clench his fists against the edge of the counter. “What?”

“Kinda silly, us both having houses,” Steve said, the way he’d practiced in the mirror. He slid a hand under Billy’s shirt, stroking his thumb over Billy’s taut muscles. He felt a scar, and grabbed Billy’s hips to turn him, suddenly needing to get his face under Billy’s shirt and kiss his skin.

“What—what are you saying,” Billy asked hoarsely.

“Don’t like it when you’re not there at night,” Steve told him, looking up from where he knelt on the floor. “I roll over and there’s this cold space where you aren’t.”

“Holy shit,” Billy said, and he started laughing, but his eyes went all red and shiny, so Steve didn’t mind.

“I have a garage,” Steve said persuasively, and Billy snorted, coughing.

“That’s your offer? A garage.”

“You could wash your Camaro and the rain wouldn’t ruin the wax,” Steve tried. “And there’s no stairs. I know you hate hauling groceries up here.”

Billy just kept snickering, leaning back against the counter, and Steve bit his lip.

“Or if you like it better here,” he surrendered, and Billy laughed harder, sinking down to the floor. Steve wasn’t that attached to his house, he thought. “I would do all the dishes,” he offered, and Billy tilted to lean against him, burying his face in Steve’s neck.

“You’re bargaining with me,” he whispered, and Steve shrugged, beginning to wish he hadn’t said anything.

“You can just tell me where to shove it,” Steve forced a laugh, and it came out sharp. “We can eat.”

“I get to sleep in your bed, though, right,” Billy whispered, sniffling. “Not the garage.”

“What the hell,” Steve whispered back. “Don’t make me bite you.”

“Go ahead,” Billy laughed. “I’m yours.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Steve told him, yanking them both to their feet, so he could slap the keys he’d made into Billy’s hand. “You want to, right?”

Billy nodded, standing there in the kitchen, holding the keys out and staring down through them. “I—I want to. I want to. Are—are you sure you…”

“What?!” Steve asked, assessing the bread—it looked fine—and sliding it onto the prepared plate.

“This—this is what you want?!” Billy asked, probably waving at himself like an asshole, and Steve kept his eyes on the precarious stack of bread, spinning to kick Billy lightly in the shin.

“Stop sounding like you’re the discount version of something,” Steve told him, sticking his tongue between his teeth as he bore the bread out to the table. “Yeah, I want to fucking play house, come play house with me. Forever.”

“That sounds kind of ominous,” Billy said, his voice shaky.

“Gonna play the hell out of this house,” Steve muttered, and Billy started laughing again, leaning against his shoulder.

“Feed me bread,” he commanded, and Steve shoved him, but pulled him back again after grabbing a slice. “Honey. Babe. Lover,” Billy whispered, and Steve shoved the bread in his mouth, feeling his face heat.

“Hurry up and eat, sweetums,” he whispered back, and Billy choked, coughing.

The first morning Steve awoke to sharing a house with Billy Hargrove, he was gone from the bed, and Steve stomped petulantly down to find him naked, in an apron, making breakfast.

He laughed until he cried.

#Harringrove #Canon divergent #platypan #Billy survived #And now it's a few years later #They meet again #Billy thinks it's a one night stand #Steve has a date!�� <3!#platypan fic

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renee-writer · 3 years

Text

There For You Chapter 1 Runaway Bride

A/N inspired by pure 90's nostalgia. A time when I was a young adult and my babies were babies. A simpler time. Inspired by Friends, as you can tell by the mood board, lol. This places our Outlander family in the world of the Friends universe. Bet you can tell who is who. Let the fun begin.

AO3

They look up startled when she runs in. In a wedding dress, no less. “Jenny, thank God you are here.” Cried as she throws herself into her arms.

“Claire, Claire Beauchamp?”

“That’s me. I had to get away. I simply couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry that stuffy Frank, I don’t care if he is a professor and will, ‘settle me down’ as my mum says.”

“Ah. Okay. Yah, ah. Claire meet my mates, Geillis, Ian, and John. You recall my brother, Jamie. Guys, Claire, she was a good mate of mine in upper school.”

Hello are exchanged. Ian is a tall man with sandy hair and an easy smile. John, a bit shorter with dark hair and a more proper manner. Geillis is a free spirit. From her chestnut curls to her laughing green eyes and her bohemian type dress. Jamie was the tallest. His red curls are cut close to his head and his eyes, as blue as the sky, look over her with frank curiosity. Jenny is still the tiny domino she recalls from upper school. The lass who got things done.

“So, we have a runaway bride. Shall I see if the trans Am is available and find an eighteen wheeler?” Ian jokes.

“What?” Claire looks at him blankly before turning back to Jenny. “Will you help me? I can’t go home. My dad spend five thousand pounds on this wedding.” A low whistle from the group. “then I run out on it. Will you help me become a independence woman like you are?”

“She can stay with you Jenny. You have the extra room.” Geillis says.

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” she throws her arms around her.

“Well I guess you are staying with me. Come, let’s get you out of that conspicuous wedding dress.” Jamie’s eyes get round at this but no one is looking at him. They exit the coffee shop together. “Ian and John live right across the hall. Jamie lives in the next book of flats over. We can see him from my window. Geillis lives a kilometer away.” She explains as she leads her out into the Glasgow street.

They all enter her flat. Huge by the standards of the city. “This is lovely Jenny.”

“Thank you. Let me show you to your room.”

“I wonder why she didn’t leave him before today.” John muses as they wait on the lasses to return.

“Maybe she wanted to humiliate him.” Ian offers.

“He could have done something she just found out about.” Geillis adds. She stretches across the couch.

“He cheated on me with my maid of honor. Honor my arse!” she falls into the couch beside Geillis.

“That bastard. Shall we go deal with him for you?”

She looks over at Jamie. Jenny’s lite brother has grown up. She smiles. “No but thank you Jamie. If I loved him, this would hurt. But it just made me mad. Leaving him at the alter is punishment enough. I believe.”

“Here here! Marriage is a custom that is long overdue to be abolished. Love should be more free. “ Geillis cheers.

“Marriage has its place. She just choose wrong.” Jamie argues.

“Like you did?” Ian replies.

“You are married?”

“Was. My wife preferred the company of other women. I couldn’t quite compete.”

“Yikes. I am sorry.”

“See,” Geillis interjects, “love shouldn’t be so rigidly characterized.”

“Look,” Jamie stands and starts pacing, “I have no problem with lesbians. Just wish she would have not married a man when she wanted a woman.”

“Can’t argue with that.” His sister agrees.

Claire’s cell phone rings. “My dad.” She tells them before answering. “Hello daddy. Yes I know how much it costs. Really, well he embarrassed me first. I will tell you how. No listen dad. I caught him with Sandy. Yes that Sandy, not that it should matter. Would you have me.. A mistake. No I don’t think so. No I am staying in town. With Jenny Fraser. Yes, I will get a job. I will too. Sorry tell mum I am too but I won’t be coming home. I am a woman now. Bye.”

“Wow. Good for you. Do you know what kind of job you want?” Jenny asks.

“I have no idea!” She bursts into tears

#my writing #outlander fanfic #inspired by Friends #there for you #runaway bride #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #modern au #crossover

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blackevermore · 3 years

Text

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 15 }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 8640

P.s: Chapters will be taking longer to get out which means they will get longer to read as well

Breakfast was quiet, Dani as usual came from her room and sat at the table half asleep waiting for her father to finish cooking. Vlad stood at the stove flipping the last few pancakes and scrambling eggs. But that form of silence Vlad was used to. This new silence felt strange as if it hung over his shoulders that something was wrong. Vlad crunched his nose and thought of something else to distract him. He settled for what he remembered yesterday night, it had been bugging him just who Dani was on the phone with. He knew that if she had started dating she wouldn’t tell him. Danny would be her to go to person or even Jazz due to how much closer they were in age; also the fact neither of them were her parental figure. But being a very nosy person by human nature Vlad had to poke at his daughter to settle the cat inside him. With a slow forming wicked grin Vlad placed down the spatula and cleared his throat.

“Danielle?” Vlad called over his shoulder to wake the other and received a hum in response. “Who was that you were on the phone with last night? I couldn’t help hearing you through your door when I walked by.” Vlad tried to sound as normal as possible without giving it away he was snooping. Vlad heard the sound of the chair carting against the floor and Dani struggling to sit up straight.

“Oh that was just some friends, I meant to call them yesterday after the graduation but I didn’t have the chance.” Vlad could hear the pitch in her voice rise in nervousness. He turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder at the young phantom and he saw how red her face became. Clearly a lie. Vlad smirked and finished cooking and placing the food on plates before using his powers to move said plates towards the dining table. Once seated he motioned for her to dig in and Dani was hesitant as she made her plate. Once the young girl was face deep in her pancakes Vlad smiled and cleared his throat once more to gather her attention.

“Surely if you were starting to date you would tell me, right?” Vlad had no time to react as Dani’s eyes widened and she slightly choked on her food. She managed to clear her airways and hide her face in her hoodie. Vlad had to keep from showing how satisfied he was at knowing he was right. A point for Vlad.

“Why are you bringing this up?!” Dani couldn’t bring herself to uncover her face, she couldn’t look Vlad in the eyes right now. But even though the thick fabric of her hoodie she could tell he was looking right at her and smirking.

“Is it a boy?”

“No!” Dani snapped back hard and Vlad chuckled as he shook his head and took a bit from his pancakes. She didn’t mean for it to come off so harsh but she did hope he would leave her alone about it.

“Ah, so a lovely young lady, is it? Care to share her name?” Dani groaned and finally lowered her hoodie but refused to look her father in the eyes. She shook her head and Vlad understood, he wasn’t going to push her on it nor was he going to demand it from her. He was happy though. It was so cute to see Dani branching into that age of discovery and possibly finding interest in someone. Vlad didn’t care who but he did have limitations on certain things. “They are of your age, correct?” Dani only shook her head ‘yes’. “Do they know you are...” Dani shook her head ‘no’ and Vlad was satisfied.

If this relationship his daughter was about to embark on was serious then at the right time Dani would tell this young lady her secret. Hopefully, she would be just as helpful as Danny’s friends were when he was growing up. Vlad remembered when he was young and had developed a crush. Unknown to everyone who knew him now, Maddie was not his first love. That title went as far back as a middle school back home in Wisconsin to a boy named Thomas. Vlad had no idea that the feelings he had then were romantic until he was older but he could recall how gitty Thomas made him. There was never the time the other held his hand every time they rode the bus home from school until Vlad was the first to be dropped off.

“C-Can we drop this now?” Dani muttered and Vlad smiled gently and nodded. The young girl sighed and tried her best to get back into her food but she knew her father had one more thing to say. She could see it in his eyes as he stared at her.

“Don’t you think saying you love them is a bit early? Unless you’ve been seeing this young lady for a while and I’m just now hearing about it.” Vlad said teasingly as he watched his daughter groan and once again cover her face. He let out a lite chuckle then promised he wouldn’t speak on it anymore unless she wanted to. Dani rolled her eyes and told him she was finished and that she was in her room if he needed her. But before she could float away they both heard the sound of faint groaning in the distance. Vlad turned his head trying to find just where it was coming from but had no luck as it still sounded far away.

“What is that?” Dani floated over to the sliding doors and looked through the glass. Vlad quickly placed down his fork and strolled behind her to see but saw nothing in the garden. Then like cold water, it washed over him that Tayonna was in fact missing in action. The night before he had looked for her and couldn’t find her. He didn’t think anything of it since she would just show up if he had a dream. But that was it, he didn’t have any dream last night, everything was a blank canvas and Vlad had woken up refreshed and well. He had expected Tayonna to be there but she wasn’t. When the groaning became a bit louder Vlad stiffened and clenched his fist.

“Danielle stays right here, I’ll be back.” Vlad turned towards his daughter with hardened eyes and Dani nervously nodded. Vlad unlocked the door and slid it back and stepped out into his garden before closing it back. He followed the whimpering which led toward the statue. Vlad took note that the roses that were wrapped around the statue were not wilting and one by one dried and dead petals fell to the ground. Vlad stepped closer and tried to figure out why this was happening all of a sudden. Just yesterday the roses were alive and beautiful and danced in the gentle breeze of the summer air. Vlad gently touched one of the rose heads and it crumbled to ash at his fingertips. Vlad flinched back and frowned, they were very beautiful and it was a shame. The whimpering continued and it pulled Vlad away from the statue to the left that travelled to behind the house. As Vlad slowly followed the sound he noticed a trail of green buds poking out from the ground. They were unblossomed rosebuds that seemed to pulse through the low cut grasses. Vlad did his best to not step on them as he followed them towards the back of the house, they were his only sense of where to go.

As he travelled along the path he saw that the buds began to change into the next stage of growth. They were frozen stills of a flowering cycle and it was fascinating, to say the least. When he saw the first peek of a petal he saw that they were vibrant green and glowing through the leaves. When he made it to the back the whimpering was a lot more clear and the ground glowed a faint green. Even with the sun out, he could see the pulsating glow from the fully bloomed roses that now clustered together like bushes. Vlad wasn't sure what he would find in the bush and he steadied himself. He ignited his powers in his left hand and held it low. As much as he preferred to handle ghostly fights in private he was not above settling the score out in the open. He inched closer trying to get a peek of what was to come before fully dragging himself over. When he saw the form of a hand and dark skin he shook his powers away and rushed over to the bush. Tayonna laid on her back in the bush breathing heavily in a pant and a twisted look of pain on her face. She was groaning and shaking slightly as she held onto her right arm in a tight grip. Tayonna didn’t seem to notice Vlad standing over her and rolled to her side to curl into herself.

“What’s wrong with her?” Dani’s voice scared Vlad and he jumped to the side, clenching his chest. He took a deep breath then narrowed his eyes towards where Dani could have been. The girl became visible and rubbed her arm with an apologetic expression. “I told you to stay put,” his voice was stern and Dani knew better than to disobey him when there could be a danger. But she was curious and also worried that he might have needed help if something went wrong. After the events of last time, she really didn’t want to see him hurt. Vlad held up a finger before she could answer and shook his head. “We’ll discuss later, right now, stand behind me.” Vlad pulled Dani behind him but the girl moved to his side and looked over his arm. Vlad wasn’t going to touch Tayonna, not when these weird green glowing roses cradled around her. He had never seen anything like these. He wasn’t too sure if they were related to Blood Blossoms or not. God knows if he touched one it would do to him, but at the same time, he felt they were in a strange way safe. They were inviting with how they pulsated and seemed to wrap their stems around her. A thick stem was curled around her ankle and up the ends of her long skirt. Another was wrapped around her waist and another was wrapped around the arm she was holding.

They didn’t seem tight as Tayonna twisted and turned and the stems would give way so she could adjust. Vlad was curious to know what other powers the ghost had, he also wondered what effects they had on ghosts. He could remember how the Blood Blossoms weakened ghosts, there was always the misconception that they killed ghosts but that wasn’t the case. A ghost could easily get away from them if they weren’t stuck in an enclosure of them but if they were they would just be weakened. Vlad knew firsthand what it was like to be affected by them and he hoped he never dealt with that again. Vlad took a deep breath and held it as he reached out and touched the petals. A shock of energy ran through Vlad’s body and he felt his core thump against his chest. It wasn’t painful but rather energetic as if Vlad had just had a day's worth of sleep and energy drinks. It felt amazing but Vlad knew he had to pull away before he became too intoxicated by it. Vlad pulled his hand back and stared at it trying to figure out what just happened and why.

“Those aren’t Blood Blossoms?” Dani asked, pointing out towards the roses.

“No, they seem to do the very opposite of the blossoms. They give you energy instead of taking it away. Interesting.” Vlad's voice trailed away as he saw the tips of his fingers slightly glow then the surge of the glowing travel up his body. He looked back to Tayonna and gently touched her shoulder to pull her towards him to uncurl her. When Tayonna gave way she let out a deep sigh and Vlad could now see the damage along her right arm. From her knuckles to her shoulder her skin was cracked like glass and dark like a fire had been set against her skin. He could also see the faint debris of what looked like ash coming off of her and being sucked up by the roses. When Tayonna groaned again the roses grew brighter and she rolled back over to cover her arm. The roses must have been a healing factor of sorts and Tayonna needed to smother her arm into the petals for it to work. Vlad felt in his core he couldn’t leave her there, he had better ways to treat wounds and injuries in his lab, it was best to get her there and handle whatever this was. Vlad wasted no time in rolling her back over and getting his arms under her to lift her up and out of the flower bed. The stems of the roses gave way with ease from around her and shrivelled back into the ground. Tayonna gasped then curled against his body and Vlad felt a small shiver run up his back.

“Are you going to help her?” Dani asked, Vlad could hear in her voice the uncertainty, but he simply nodded and pulled the girl closer to him. There wasn’t a foreign feeling this time telling him to do it, this was genuine and Vlad wanted to help.

“If I leave her here there is no telling how long it will take her to recover. It’s best if we handle it my way, wouldn’t want someone walking past the house and seeing her just lying there.” Vlad quickly took note as he spun on his heels that Tayonna felt like nothing. Despite her size and height, he lifted her with ease as if she surely was nothing but ghost matter. This was a bit odd considering solid ghosts did of course have weight to them. It was in their basic genetics of keeping themselves together. Vlad knew he could feel her snuggling against him, probably taking comfort from his warmth, but there was nothing in his hands. Very interesting. Vlad told Dani to get the door and he walked into his house carefully so as to not shake up Tayonna anymore, and sunk through the floor to get to the basement.

“Danielle, get me a table, please.” Dani ran off to clear off one of the tables that had Vlad’s papers and books on it. It was just the right size to place someone on it and Vlad was grateful he always overcompensated with furniture. He placed the girl down and Tayonna began to shiver as the cold metal touched her skin. Vlad quickly placed his hand on the table to warm it and ease Tayonna from discomfort. Vlad watches as Tayonna's face falls from knotted brows to an almost gentle sleep.

“Now what?” Dani asked, floating over Vlad’s shoulder a few feet back. She wasn’t as shaken up by Tayonna but that didn’t mean she wanted to be near her.

“Now I help her, and possibly study the roses she slept in. Do me a favor dear and go get a handful of those roses and bring them down here.” Dani nodded and shot through the ceiling. Vlad walked over to a large metal cabinet and pulled it open to retrieve the supplies he needed. A couple of months ago Vlad had the idea to create a cream specifically for ghosts that would jump start their healer factor in case a wound took too long to heal on its own. It mostly made it for Danny after he got in a really bad fight that left a scar down the middle of his back that could easily be seen at the tip of his t-shirts. Vlad hadn’t used it on burns before but he was sure it would help all the same. He brought everything to another table beside Tayonna and set everything out in order. First, he would need to get a better look at what he was working with, which meant getting Tayonna to let go of her arm.

Vlad reached over and took the girl’s wrist and tried to pull it away but Tayonna gripped it tighter and tried to roll away. Vlad huffed and let go to pull her shoulders back down and settle her. Vlad put his hands on his hips trying to think of the best way to get the girl to corporate. Sure tying down one hand and forcing the other was a method he was more used to but he knew that would only end up in a disaster. Then a thought formed in his head, he knew it wasn’t his own but it seemed like it would actually work. ‘It better work’ Vlad thought then sighed as he loomed back over the girl and took hold of her wrist once more.

“Tayonna,” Vlad called out gently as if he was trying to wake her. “Please let go.” Vlad rubbed his thumb across her wrist trying to ease her grip and with a few more caressing rubs her fingers loosened and she let go. “Thank you.” Vlad brought her arm to her side then walked around to see the wounded one. It seemed to have gotten better but it was still an unpleasant sight. Her brown skin started to fade back into itself but the cracks and wrinkles seemed like they drove deep. Vlad ran a hand over the skin and felt how warm it felt compared to the rest of her. He then took her hand into his and looked at her fingers. They weren’t small and fragile, they were rough like workers and seen better days outside of the sun. Vlad could easily tell Tayonna was not the type to sit around and do simple tasks that held no weight. From the dreams, he could remember, Tayonna was always busy with harder labour that required rough hands and a strong grip. Vlad ran a thumb over her knuckles and sighed before pulling himself away to grab the creams and wraps.

Dani watched from where she floated as her father went to work helping the other. She had already picked a handful of roses and came back just as her father was asking Tayonna to let go of her arm. She could see that he was gentle and maybe a bit too caring as he held up her arm or moved her a bit. It was odd seeing him so gentle with strangers who held no virtue in his life. When she left, her father had made it clear he didn’t take Tayonna as any more than a nuisance from the ghost zone. But the look on his face told her that during her time away something must have happened that put them on some equal level. Dani had to squint a bit as she saw how soft her father’s eyes became as he rubbed the cream into Tayonna's arm. He had the same look in his eyes he only ever gave one person Dani could recall. Dani didn’t know what to actually make of this and could nearly double over and question everything as she tried to figure out just what had happened during her time away. She cringed a bit when a certain thought crossed her mind.

“That should do it,” Vlad said, cleaning off his hands with a rag and stepping away from the table. Vlad turned around and smiled at Dani, she held out the flowers and he thanked her as he took them and brought them over to his testing table. “She should be fine within a couple of hours. Though I’m not sure if that is an appropriate time frame considering her wound looks more like burns than scars. But nonetheless. Vlad pulled one of the roses out from the bunch and cut the stem off from the bud. The rose lost some of its glow when he did so and he quickly took note of that. From the cut rose he plucked one of the petals and dropped it into a test tray of ectoplasm he kept for testing purposes. When the petal came in contact with the substance the ectoplasm started to glow. He pulled the test tray under a microscope and examined it, and what he found was truly impressive. The molecules from the pedals were absorbing the ectoplasm then spitting it out in doubles before binding them like a net with another abnormally shaped molecule.

Vlad has seen this before in blood clots and how they formed nettings to cover wounds to send in platelets cells for repair. The green roses were plant based immune system boosters. Vlad knew this could come in handy in the future and he quickly gathered up the rest of the roses and tied them off in a science bag. He walked over to the cooler he kept his other tests in and pulled the marker from the holder to write the date and time.

He put everything away and he turned back towards Tayonna who was now completely still on the table. He could see the shallow ups and downs of her chest and could tell she was now in a complete sleep. He walked over to check on her arm and saw the cream was in fact working and had already filled in the cracks. It was only a matter of time before her skin would turn back to normal and she would wake up. Happy with his results he turned to Dani and walked over to lay his hand on her shoulder.

“Seems like she’ll make a recovery, it's best we leave her be for now.” He gently squeezed his daughter's shoulder.

“She isn’t like dying or something, right?” Dani asked. Vlad shook his head then looked over his shoulder.

“No it was just an injury of sorts. They are healing so whatever it was only skin deep. When she wakes up I’ll have to ask her what attacked her to make sure we’re not in danger. I highly doubt we are, but just to be sure.” Vlad turned back around then motioned for the stairs. Vlad didn’t want to tell Dani that he didn’t feel like there was a threat. He didn’t want the girl asking even more questions that could potentially lead to him having to tell her about the core issues. It was best to just keep it under wraps. Dani let out a sigh and turned around to walk away, grumbling about how they could have flown. Vlad chuckled as he heard her and shrugged.

Tayonna handed Vladan the rose and the man couldn’t hide the amazed look in his eyes. He knew that flowers could come in many ways and colors, but for them to glow like this was beyond him. Tayonna was truly a master of her craft and Vladan couldn’t help but feel the tug of his heartstrings. It had been two months since he found out her secret and she never failed to amaze him.

“This is what you’ve been giving my brother?” Vladan rolled the rose in his hand then brought it to his nose to smell. He had thought due to its abnormalness it would smell weird, but it didn't, it smelled like any other rose. The girl nodded then backed away from him with her head low. Ever since he had found out she was a witch Vladan had spent every waking moment by her side. He knew it made the girl uncomfortable but he had to make sure she wasn’t trying to do any wrong. He also just had to quench his thirst for the unknown that lurked around. He felt like a child every time he asked her to show him something. Tayonna, always uneasy but not wanting to upset him, would lead him away from any prying eyes and show him the wonders of the unknown. Vladan could still recall the way her fingers lit up in a purple hue and she made sparkles of light float around them. When they finished he would awkwardly say thank you in German and hastily turned back towards the house as if hell was hot on his heels.

“They will heal him for as long as he wishes to be here,” Tayonna asked him but never brought her head up. “They are known as Green Whispers where I’m from and they are used for healing practices.” Vladan hummed and plucked a pedal off the bud and rolled it in his fingers. He felt a small pulse surge through him and he smiled.

“Can anyone grow these?”

“No, only those chosen to be priests.” Vladan’s brow rose in curiosity and he placed the rose back on the table in front of him. He knew nothing about Tayonna other than what his parents told him, which wasn’t much, and the few bits Luther was able to sputter out before falling to sleep. He wanted to know more about her whether it was personal or magic related. He wanted to know if the tales of witches he had heard back across the seas were true to those of different origins. He already debunked the one above all witches being ugly. Tayonna was far from with her hooded eyes and full features. Nor was she a sore to look at with her fuller figure and soft appealing skin. He could agree she was short due to his 6’3 height but that would be unfair to her 5’6. She stopped right below his collar when she stood up straight and it was tempting to pull her in and see how well she fit next to him. Vladan couldn’t excuse himself the more he chose to close the distance between them, he wanted to touch her. Maybe it was the rush of something new or maybe it was that he found her interesting. Since he arrived he couldn’t fathom the thought of a black girl with bright green eyes. Yet, there Tayonna was, tending to his brother, and always outside in the gardens, taking space within his mind for then she should.

“You were supposed to be a priest?” Vladan wasn’t too sure if that was a possible thing a woman could do. Not where he was from was it common to have a woman reach such status. She could become a nun or even a mother of the church, but to hold the title of a priest was few and far between.

“Destined to be until-” Tayonna stopped abruptly when the door to the front of the house opened and Vladan’s mother came in. Vladan quickly snatched the rose off the table and shoved it into his pocket.

“Dearest?” His mother called to him and Vladan stood and bowed his head to greet her. The older woman kissed her son’s cheeks then smoothed his dark hair. Vladan could tell there was something worrying his mother from the way her brows knitted together. She started to correct his clothing and hair like she would do when he was a child when she was anxious. Vladan used to think it was just her way of doting on him before they went to see guests; now he knew that meant something wavered at her nerves. As his mother continued her frantic apparel corrections she looked over at Tayonna who continued to stand as still as she could with her head bowed. “Tayonna there is no need to lower your head, stand with a purpose in a Mægisters’ presents or you will be eaten alive.” The servant took in a harsh breath and raised her head and stood up straight. Vladan couldn’t help himself from staring her on and drinking in the ghostly look in her eyes. “Much better,” The older woman nodded, then patted her son’s chest. Then stepped away to look between them, she saw the way her son looked towards the girl and it made her heart slow in fear. "If you are going to be known for something treacherous, I much rather you stand with pride than cower like the rest of them.” The women’s words weren’t bitter but rather a backhanded compliment of encouragement

“Mother?” Vladan snapped back around to his mother who was already sidestepping him and heading towards a different part of the house. Vladan didn’t go after his mother immediately, he looked back towards Tayonna who gave him nothing for a response then stormed away. “Mother, what are you on about?”

Vlad's fingers found home smoothing out Tayonna’s wild curls as he sighed then quickly pulled away when he realized what he was doing. It had been a couple of hours and Tayonna still hadn’t woken up but her arm was completely back to normal. He had only meant to come down and check on her, take notes of the effects, then leave to go back and enjoy the rest of his day. He had already been to work and quickly came home upon Dani request she not be left alone in the house if Tayonna were to awaken. When he ventured down the pull on his core told him he had to get closer. And when he did the voice inside him said nothing but silently pleaded for Vlad to touch her again. All day he couldn’t stop thinking about how he held her in his arms when he carried her. He wanted to do it again, or at least satisfied the burning in his fingertips that told him to do it again. He only wanted to indulge Vladan’s annoying pleading to make him shut up. However, when Vlad felt how soft her hair was and how peaceful she looked asleep on the table he got lost in a trance of his own.

The only other person whose hair he caressed was Dani’s when she was younger and would have terrible nightmares. He had thought of the countless fantasies he had of caressing Maddie’s hair and how that made him feel. But this was new and a bit refreshing. He couldn’t run his fingers through her hair, it was too coarse and filled with curls that went in every which way. Maybe if he had the chance to brush her hair it would be easier but he highly doubted it.

Vlad knew he should reach out and touch her again, he scolded himself to simply say she was alright and go back upstairs but he was too curious to know. Vlad told himself to make it quick before he felt his mind being taken over again while he reached out to run a thumb over her cheek. He held his breath as he cupped the side of her face and caressed her cheek. She felt so cold against his fiery skin and it felt amazing. Vlad was constantly on fire from the inside and the slight comfort of a cool surface always relaxed him. Tayonna’s skin was smooth but he also enjoyed the feeling of texture in her skin he did find. He was supposed to pull his hand away already but he found himself in a trance fighting with his fantasies of Maddie and the realness of Tayonna. They were so different and he knew nothing about Tayonna like he believed he did of Maddie. Vlad was only able to pull himself out of his trance when he felt Tayonna’s head roll into his hand and nuzzle his palm. He quickly calmed himself as he tried to pull his hand away before she opened her eyes but Tayonna’s hand shot up and held him there.

Tayonna took a deep breath then let out huffs as she continued to find comfort in the hand on her face. It felt so familiar and warm and for a moment she could have sworn she knew who it belonged to. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and it took a bit for her vision to get adjusted due to the change of sensory. She had remembered being outside and now she was in a dimly lit room. When she felt the hand on her cheek trying to escape she closed her eyes and chuckled and pulled it back kissing the palm.

“Where are you going?” Tayonna’s voice was sweet and playful as she smiled and let out a small giggle. Vlad felt his heart skip a beat and his cheeks heat to a faint pink. This wasn’t good and he knew that when she realized whose hand that actually was she wouldn’t be too happy. But Vlad would rather face the music than allow this to go on any further so he cleared his throat and pulled his hand away a bit forcefully. Tayonna's eyes flew open and she shot up from the table and looked around. When her eyes landed on Vlad she looked down at his hand then quickly back up to his eyes. Her eyes widened and she quickly jumped off the table and backed away from him. She gripped her skirt nervously and looked around frantically trying to figure out where she was.

“Please calm down, you were hurt and I brought you to my lab to help you.” Vlad held up his hands and walked towards her. When Tayonna jumped back Vlad quickly halted in his steps cursing himself. Tayonna touched her arm which had been damaged and she looked it over before locking eyes with Vlad again.

“You helped me? Why?” Her words hurt him as she narrowed her eyes, which earned her a tsk and Vlad rolling his eyes.

“A thank you would have been nice considering your method of healing would have taken longer than expected.” Vlad crossed his arms and leaned on one leg. “ You looked terrible curled up in a bed of roses.” Vlad knew that was a lie but it was the best he could come up with trying to save face. Like hell he would tell her he found her charming in her rose bed with stems wrapped around her. Like hell he would tell anyone that for a matter of fact. Tayonna seemed to realize she was being rude and she sighed and turned away from him.

“Thank you.” She muttered.

“You’re welcome, now if you don’t mind telling me what caused all of this that would be wonderful.” Vlad walked towards his work desk and took a seat in his chair. Tayonna once again gripped her dress and thought over what to say before raising her head and standing with a shaky air of confidence.

“I tried to leave.”

“Leave?” Vlad brows knotted and he pointed towards the ghost portal across from him. Tayonna shook her head ‘no’ and slowly raised a finger up towards the ceiling.

“I can’t leave.” Tayonna's voice was broken as it trailed off and Vlad swallowed hard. He felt his mind become split in two for a moment between yelling at him to stop her from ever trying that again and actually being surprised she tried to leave on her own. He wasn’t against her leaving, a matter of fact if she went maybe he would have a clear conscience to actually think. The voice in his head that filled with worry finally shutting up and leaving with her could possibly be a blessing. But when he realized that her trying to leave is what caused the damage he groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Is it him that won't allow you to leave?” Vlad asked, waving a hand through the air. Tayonna shrugged her shoulders and Vlad gritted his teeth trying to make sense of this. “I take it this isn’t the first time you’ve tried to leave either, is it.” Tayoona shook her head and Vlad bit his lip and ran his fingers through his hair. He brought a hand to his face and stroked his chin trying to think but nothing could come to mind. While Vlad threw blanks after blank in his head he took notice that Tayonna now ran her fingers over her cheek. She looked so hurt and confused as she ghosted her fingers in the place his hand once were. He wanted to reach out and remove her hand and replace it with his and just hold her but he mentally kept his hand bound to his side.

“You touched me.” Tayonna pulled her hand away from her face.

“Well I didn’t want to but he did.” Vlad felt his cheeks heat up again and he turned to fake a cough.

“No, it was you, you touched me, I felt it was you.” Tayonna lifted a hand to her chest and took a shaky breath then dropped it.

“Miss Tayonna I can assure you the only reason I have touched you in the whole time you’ve been here was due to unwilling subconscious interference. I would much rather keep the distance we have, but this annoying nagging in my head from your ever so...lovely reminder of the past will not leave me alone.” Vlad pointed towards his ears, he wasn’t necessarily lying, half the time he touched her wasn’t his doing. Or if it was it was because Vladan had hinted in a way to calm Tayonna down from spiralling out of control. The last time Vlad was going to weasel himself out with pretty excuses and hope the ghost wouldn’t push for the truth. But he could see in Tayonna’s eyes she already knew the truth and his pretty lies weren’t going to work on her. However, at the same time, her eyes told him she wouldn’t hold it against him. She would pretend to buy his excuse and allow this time to pass.

“Then don’t touch me.” Her words didn’t hold a threat like the other few times she had said it to him. It almost came off like a little tease. Vlad didn't see or feel Tayonna’s skin to know she was blushing. He felt it in his core. Blasted! He had forgotten they were bound and could sense each other. It seemed it only made itself noticeable when emotions were a bit high or like a sick joke when the moment called for it. Vlad would have chuckled and made a flirtatious remark if this had been a different situation and a different person. He might have even played into it and teased the other right back. But this wasn’t that and Vlad was not going to cross any lines that were set by themselves with Tayonna.

“Very well,” was all Vlad could muster as he stood from his chair and hooked his hand behind his back. “I would like to introduce you properly to my daughter. Which you already met on a very sour first impression. But second time’s a charm I suppose, but fair warning, she’s not as excited to see you. So do be on your best behaviour, any harm that comes her way will be dealt with.” Vlad motioned for Tayonna to follow him up through the ceiling and she did.

“Danielle? Please come here, dear.” Vlad yelled throughout the first floor and heard a faint ‘coming’ ranging from the living room. When the youngest phantom flew through the walls she quickly dropped to her feet and gasped. Tayonna stood a few steps behind Vlad and stared right into the girl’s soul. Dani shivered a bit, normally green eyes wouldn’t freak her out, but Tayonna was the strongest exception. Dani felt herself become nervous and quickly shot her hands up to her head as she shook it back and forth.

“She’s doing the mind thing again!” Dani pointed her finger towards Tayonna who almost seemed taken back by the assumption.

“No she isn’t, you’re nervous.” Vlad sighed and placed his hands on his hips.

“How do you know?” Dani shot her father a look but quickly dismissed it when he returned a very fatherly one.

“Because,” because I could feel it if she did. “Because she agreed to not do that to you nor I as long as she stayed here.” Vlad sounded very sure of himself as he stepped to the side and allowed Dani to fully see Tayonna. “Danielle I would like you to meet Tayonna. Tayonna, this is my daughter, Danielle.” Dani gave a quick and nervous ‘hi’ as she took another step back and Tayonna lifted the ends of her skirt to bow. “Danielle, Tayonna will most likely be home with you while I’m away at work during the day. Which means you will have to try and get along with her. But also means that if anything happens you call me straight away or get ahold of Daniel to handle the situation. She has promised to not do anything but we must be sure. For the time being it is for the best of us that we find our common ground within this house and respect them.”

“Yeah, okay…” Dani anxiously started rocking on her heels and Vlad sighed and told her she may go.

“Dinner is in an hour!” Vlad called after the girl then grumbled something about teenagers before smiling. He turned back towards Tayonna, the girl had a small smile of her own and even soft eyes as she watched Dani leave. As the youngest phantom presents were gone, Tayonna's feelings leaked from her to Vlad. She had become unbearably sad.

“Did you two ever have children?” Vlad asked, the curiosity of the cat purred and clawed at his mind.

Tayonna raised a hand to her stomach and her eyes closed and brows fell in a sign of hurt, “We were, they would have been a girl.” Vlad now felt awkward for asking and turned away to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, he wasn’t.”

#📖Ghost Stories👻#Secrets of The Lake #vlad masters #dp fanfic #My writing #self ship #blah blah fucking blah #Danny Phantom

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sword-envy · 4 years

Text

well how the turntables...

Fandom: A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns

Content warning: swearing and light gore

Word Count: 2830

Pairing: X/A lite. lite

Description: Azad doesn’t care for how or why he finds himself facing down the Pale Sword once again; what he does know is that he’s getting a little Spirits-damned tired of cleaning up the man’s messes.

or, that time A tried to read X's mind, failed, and then got their fucking nose broken

With Xelef pinned under his forearm and his famous sword lost somewhere in the grass behind them, Azad loses his last shred of patience and smacks his palm against Xelef's head.

Azad can see Xelef's eyes widen in his peripheral as his magic surges forward, rushing past a few feeble mental blocks, buffeting them like rocks in a river. Azad flips throught the immediate memories--his own face set in a stern expression as Xelef was thrown against the tree, the feeling of a sword being knocked from his hands, their duel picking up as Azad pressed forward, demanding to know where Xelef had hidden that stupid--

He doesn't put him to sleep first, doesn't want to waste the time doing it, and as retribution for all the headaches this damned mercenary caused him that day alone, he intends on making this sting. The magic rises to him, easily, flowing from his palm and it presses into Xelef's mind, searching for some shred of clarity regarding the shitstorm that had been raging for the past week.

And then, fire. His head fills with fire.

Xelef's defense eases just enough for Azad to feel the weight of someone’s hands curled and pushing against his forearm, but even in his dizzy state, he holds his ground and doesn’t let Xelef up. A particularly painful jolt leaves him winded, pitching forward. He catches that familiar, stupid smirk, and Xelef opens his mouth to speak.

It bursts to life behind his eyes, accompanied by searing pain. His search is halted immediately by that wall of flames, acting almost like a physical barrier that proceeds to march forward and knock him flat on his ass. The burning fills and dulls his senses and he's vaguely aware of the feeling of someone poking around; If he wasn't too busy trying not to drown, his skin would be crawling.

"Sorry, beloved." And then he slams his forehead down on Azad's nose.

The bones break with a sickening crack that reverberates through his skull and pierces the white-hot flames still clouding his vision. Azad's distantly aware that Xelef pushes him away the same moment their heads collide, and it isn't until he feels the ground against his back that the mental invasion recedes and he can feel his broken nose intimately.

"Fuck!" he shouts, pain setting in and blood flying into the hand he presses to his face. Xelef is still standing, presumably looking at him, and Azad fumbles with one hand for something to throw. His fingers find a rock and he throws it with all the force he can muster (which is a lot, judging by the shattering sound that follows after Xelef dives out of the way). "Fuck!"

He sees red and still glares through it at Xelef, who at least has the decency to look sheepish and extend a hand to help him up.

Azad slaps away the offered hand. "What, by the void, was that?"

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never run into a mental defense before.” Azad ignores him and raises unsteadily to his feet, leaving Xelef to sigh dramatically. "I mean, I'm not going to tell you. But I can definitely recommend that you don't try that mind-reading trick on me again.” Azad considers rolling his eyes, but another wave of pain hits him and he elects to instead squeeze his eyes shut and ignore him.

He's tired. His head hurts. His nose is fucking broken. Azad can predict the lecture about duty and finishing tasks, almost down to the unique color Dara’s face is going to turn, but this is just some stupid retrieval mission that he has no personal stake in. He is going to find a healer and go to sleep, nobility be damned.

Xelef raises his hand hesitantly, almost like he's going to try and touch him, but seems to think better of it. "You know, there's a few more of us nearby," he says lightly, turning away to search the grass. "I'm sure we have someone who can help you with that."

Azad spits a clot of blood on the ground. "What was the fucking point of breaking my nose if you were going to offer to fix it?"

"Aww, do you want me to kiss it better?" The teasing is nothing if not expected, but Xelef still crumbles a little under the glare Azad throws his way. He averts his eyes. "I, uh. I didn't actually mean to break your nose. I just wanted to stun you. I'm--really sorry."

This time, Azad really does roll his eyes.The idea of relying on Xelef after that little scene is far from appealing, but their duel had carried them a significant distance from any Imperial forces. One of the Blades would be his best, fastest bet for a healer right now. "Fine," he grumbles. "But you owe me."

Xelef laughs, perhaps a little nervously, and Azad watches distantly as he scoops Azad's own sword from the ground. Azad opens his free hand, waiting to get it back, but Xelef wordlessly secures it in his own belt and starts walking, inclining his head for Azad to follow. He feels himself hesitate, focused on his sword on Xelef’s belt.

Was he trying to apologize? Or to disarm him?

"Give that back," he grumbles, speeding up to fall in step with Xelef. "I can carry it."

Xelef's pouts. "I was trying to do you a favor, you old grouch. But fine, hold a grudge."

Azad scoffs at the accusation, ducking under the tree branch Xelef holds out of the way. "You broke--"

"Hey, that's ancient history!"

"That was five minutes--"

Xelef ignores him entirely, grinning and waving over someone Azad doesn't recognize. Azad’s lips twitch at the diversion, but decides to pick a fight later. There’ll be plenty of time later to discuss what “ancient history” actually constitutes regarding a broken nose.

The Blade that approaches is fairly small, wearing light armour even for the mercenary group, and they move quickly past the few others gathered in the small clearing. Xelef greets them with an easy grin, resting his hands on two swords like it’s the most natural thing in the world. "Fîlya! Care to lend a hand? Azad here went and got his nose broken." Azad rolls his eyes almost far enough to see inside his head.

The Blade, Fîlya, eyes him with some suspicion, taking in the state and Imperial look of his armour, but it doesn't look like they're about to disobey the Pale Sword. They incline their head to Azad, uncertainly but not without respect, and clear their throat. "Move your hands, please," they say politely as they peel off their gloves.

Azad finds himself glancing over at Xelef, who just raises his eyebrows at him. Insufferably, he winks. Azad resists the urge to roll his eyes again and removes his hands, leaning forward enough for them to take a look. They pull a wad of cloth and a waterproof pouch from a bag at their waist, dousing it with the liquid inside.

He closes his eyes and schools his face into neutrality. He can feel his eyes and mouth twitch as Fîlya carefully prods the sides of his nose as they clean off the blood, likely making a mental image of the damage before trying to mend it. Azad is no healer, but he at least knows the basics of how it works. It’s not as simple as pouring magic into a wound and waiting for it to finish; such reckless use would quickly lead to the presence of hard, painful growths that would need to be cut out, lest they spread to the rest of the body. Healing was a careful process affected by a variety of factors, including a healer’s skill level, their specialization, and whether it was suited to the wound they were seeing.

A sharp pain snaps Azad from recalling more of Rêzan’s long-winded explanation on how healing magic works, and he grimaces.

“Sorry,” Fîlya says quickly, drawing their hands back. “It looks like I’ll need to put the bone back in place before I start healing. Do you want anything for the pain? Something to bite on? Maybe somewhere to sit?” Azad blinks his eyes at the choices, and Fîlya looks on with their eyebrows drawn, chewing on the inside of their lip.

Mostly, Azad wants this to be over with. “No, but thank you. I’ll be fine.”

Xelef exchanges an amused look with the Blade, who seems more confused than anything, but they shrug and turn back to Azad. They raise their bare hands and he closes his eyes again, feels them place their hands back on his face, their thumbs on either side of his nose. “Uh, Chief, can you--?"

"Yeah, of course." Warm hands appear too quickly on the sides of his head for Azad to move away from, and the heat emanating from Xelef briefly distracts him. Xelef holds him firmly, and Azad opens his mouth to protest having to be held down like some sort of child. It’s annoying. It’s embarrassing. His face heats up from the irritation at the gesture, not from a certain someone’s proximity or breath brushing against the back of his neck.

While he’s distracted, Fîlya pops his nose back into alignment on the distant count of two.

Pain explodes behind his eyes once again and he clenches his teeth, trying not to break out into obscenities. “Sorry!” they say quickly, carefully running over the bridge of his nose again with their fingers. The familiar hot-cold tinge of magic slowly seeps into his skin, and the healer starts talking again, likely trying to cover the sound of bones mending themselves together. “The closer I get it back to the original shape before healing, the better it turns out in the end. I'm hardly a master, but this should heal up pretty well," they explain.

To his left, Xelef scoffs. He still hasn’t taken his hands off Azad’s head, and the heat from them is starting to sink into his skull. (Azad is absently aware of Xelef’s thumbs moving almost imperceptibly against his hair, like a soothing gesture). "Fîlya's just being modest. She's one of our best healers, no need to worry. You'll look exactly the same as before." Azad doesn’t respond. If he really needs to, he can have Rêzan or someone else fine-tune it; the sooner he can get out of here, the better.

By the time he opens his eyes and the pain dulls into mild soreness, he sees two familiar figures stalking towards them. Fîlya makes a strange noise, immediately turning tail and leaving, Xelef drops his hands, and Azad braces himself for a conversation that will undoubtedly keep him from his bed for a little longer. "Tûjo. Heval."

Tûjo silently inclines his head, his usual greeting, but Heval seems a little less inclined towards business as usual.

"What," they ask tersely, "Are you doing here?" They didn't bring their axe with them, he notices, but Heval's arms are crossed and their tone doesn't exactly seem pleased from under their iron mask. Azad sighs, and Xelef seems to take that as an invitation to talk.

"Why, Azad simply couldn't resist my offer for dinner and decided to join us! He's completely enamored to the idea of becoming a--"

Azad can feel his eye roll ripple through his posture and looks dead Heval in the eyes. "Xelef broke my nose." Heval sucks in a sharp breath and raises their hand as though to pinch the bridge of their own nose; Tûjo blinks but otherwise doesn't move.

"You broke his nose?" he says, and Azad is able to pick up a tinge of something he can't quite identify in Tûjo's tone. Xelef laughs a little too loudly and rubs at the back of his neck, something Azad has noticed he does when he’s embarrassed.

"Accidentally," he insists. "And Fîlya fixed it up for him! It's like it never even happened! I'm sure he won't hold it against me, right?"

Azad hums at that and carefully touches his nose. It feels tender, but otherwise correct. "Time will tell."

Tûjo coughs into his fist, eyes crinkled slightly, and Heval huffs in annoyance.

"Even if he did break your nose," they say, eyeing Xelef with disappointment, "What, exactly, are you doing here? We're hardly working towards the same goal right now." Azad shrugs.

"It's a professional difference. I honestly couldn't care less. Besides, I don't even have my sword." He motions towards the blade, still dangling from Xelef's hip opposite his pale scimitar. "He wouldn't let me carry it."

This time, both of Xelef's right-hand mercenaries turn to look at him. He crosses his arms and grins at them both, but something about the smile doesn't fully sit right. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

"What? A man can't carry a sword for his injured friend?"

No one pushes the claim, but Xelef still unclips the sword and passes it back to its rightful owner. Azad slides it back into the scabbard, bemused at the fact that Xelef was really so reckless as to carry a naked blade swinging from his hip.

The three people sensible enough to not do that exchange uneasy glances, until finally Xelef clears his throat.

“Well, Azad, I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to your own camp,” he says amicably, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. Azad doesn’t expend the energy to shrug it off. “Why don’t I walk you back closer to your camp? It’s dangerous to go alone, after all.”

“Wouldn’t that leave you walking alone?” Azad asks. Heval tilts their head, and nods once in agreement.

“He’s right, chief. It would be needlessly dangerous to travel alone. We don’t know who’s still out in the forest at this point, and not all of the soldiers are going to be so understanding.”

Xelef waves off the suggestion. “Oh, come on! I’ll sense anyone coming for a mile away. You won’t even finish dinner before I get back.” Xelef’s other hand reaches out to clasp Heval’s shoulder comfortingly, and they relax and sigh heavily.

“Just be careful, please.” They’re still looking at Azad with suspicion, and Azad raises an eyebrow at them. Heval clears their throat, and inclines their head to him, Tûjo following suit. “Until next time, Azad.”

“Until next time.”

And so, Xelef’s hand still on his shoulder, they steer away from the lowlit camp and back into the darkening forest. It’s still light enough to see, and Azad reluctantly allows Xelef to take the lead as they walk; even if the two of them both gravitated towards inner magic, Xelef’s sensory abilities were--admittedly--exceptional.

They walk in silence for a while, picking through the grass and the underbrush, before Xelef speaks up. “How’s the nose?”

“It’s fine,” Azad says, after consideration. He ducks under the branch Xelef holds out of the way, realizing that's at least the second time he's done that. “You’re being...awfully attentive,” he adds carefully. Xelef shrugs with an easy grin.

“Why? Are you enjoying the attention?” he teases.

“I’m suspicious of it.”

Xelef’s eyes drop as he kicks a rock out of the way, lips turned down in a frown. Azad feels the urge to bump their shoulders, which is an unexpected and mostly unwelcome idea. Instead, he wets his lips against the urge to assuage the guilt that was showing under Xelef’s sulky demeanor. “It’s fine. Really. Before you go all “ooh Azad, beloved, don’t break my heart, please forgive me”,” he teases in his best Pale Sword imitation. Xelef’s head snaps up and his green eyes stare at him in open disbelief.

The Pale Sword cracks a smile. “I do not sound like that!” he insists, but the smile colors his voice and he forges forward. They’re getting close, Azad realizes. “Spirits, you’re insufferable sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t know about ‘sometimes’,” Azad says airily. “I try to be insufferable most of the time, actually.”

Xelef shakes his head, black locks swinging. “It works,” he remarks dryly, and slows to a stop. He looks around quickly before turning to face Azad, hands on his hips. The last reaches of sunlight are nearly gone, past the golden fire-like burn of sunset. The colors around them are muted, matching the expression on Xelef’s face.

“Until we meet again, Mirza,” he says dramatically, sweeping into the most sarcastic approximation of a bow Azad has ever seen in his life. “Perhaps next time you’ll win.”

Azad scoffs and rolls his eyes one more time. “Or I’ll return the favor.” He walks past Xelef, towards the distant glow of the Imperial camp through the trees. He thinks about his bed, the scolding he’ll face after he packs up and heads back to the city, the color the General’s face will turn when he finds out what he did.

It’s strange. Even without looking, he gets the feeling that Xelef is smiling at him.

#ATOC #im finally done!! been looking at these two gay bitches for a WEEK #a tale of crowns #azad/ashti #xelef/xelara #blood #swearing #umm.....i did so much random research for this lol #including when cancer was named but idk it felt to weird to put it in there (it was recognized in ancient persia tho!)#also.....how to write a bloody nose. and videos on how to set a bloody nose at home #and GENEROUS interpretation of how healing magic works shut up sword #also Filya is an OC but i love her. shes my tired daughter now. she misses her wife!#also yes this is....x/a propaganda #ANYWAYS stan ATOC and play the game!! found @ ataleofcrowns.tumblr.com!! see the sword rivals in action!!!!#EDIT: tungle removed my italics. i hate it here #i also added a link to the game blog and fixed some grammar in the description oops

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timeforelfnonsense · 3 years

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The Lusty Eladrin Maid (2/3)

Astarion x Dafni || E || Ao3 (See for specific tags) || Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series

The longer they swayed, pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, the more certain his lust addled consciousness became that the sensual curves of her body belong just below the consumption of blood on his hierarchy of needs. Those big, glittering topaz eyes, that blithe, pixie grin that tugged at the corners of her plush pink- She had him completely bewitched. If Astarion was asked right then and there to describe Hanali Celanil, he most assuredly would have said the elven goddess of beauty and joy as a shapely spring eladrin with wild curls the color of gillyflower and a generous sprinkling of golden freckles.

He’d have to take her to a real ball one day. Some Upper City function with good wine and better gossip. Somewhere with lots of shadowy nooks and covalently placed furnishings. His mind conjured a vision of Dafni dressed in a gown of silk and tulle. A full, flouncy number that sparkled in when the light caught it just right. Anyone else would appear garish in such a gown, but somehow on Dafni it only added to her mythical beauty.

She’d be the envy of all in attendance, but of course, she’d spurn them all for him. Astarion felt his cock stir at the thought. There was an undeniable eroticism in the knowledge that he had the favor of someone others desired. Oh, how the rabble would seethe with jealousy when the pair of them emerged for an unoccupied study! Dafni’s hair slightly messed, her lips kiss swollen and wet.

They could burn all they liked, this alluring enchantress was his.

His hand traveled down her spine to her backside, giving the perfect plumpness a quick squeeze. Dafni responded with a lewd squeak.

“Such a lovely little Coquette.” With a rakish grin, he began gathering up the hem of her gossamer dress, the back of his knuckles grazing the skin of her thigh. Dafni’s breath hitched at the sensual contact. He caught her one of her hands by the wrist, guiding her to the edge of her skirts, “Can you hold this for me, darling?”

Dafni nodded, eagerly gathering up fistfuls of fabric. Astarion slowly sank to his knees, his hungry gaze fixed on her endearingly flustered expression. Once he was settled into the patch of flowers and wild grass, Astarion nudged her thighs apart. He kissed his way up her leg, stopping for a gentle nuzzle against the twin punctures he’d left behind during a previous tryst. He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of her thin pink knickers, in one firm tug he had her hips bare. He gave a low, fierce noise, his bottom lip caught in the sharp grip of his teeth. He guided one leg over his shoulder, he kept one hand on the base of her spine, holding her firm and steady. He traced the line of her folds with his index finger. It had only taken a bit of kissing and a dance to get her wet and wanting.

Parting her petals with his fingers, Astarion set to work. Her taste was earthy and warm but there was a hint of sweetness, like wild honeysuckle, so very Dafni in its nature. He swept his tongue along every inch of lovely quim, greedily lapping up her arousal.

Her fingers buried themselves in his hair pulling him closer to her core with enthusiasm. The sensation of her dull fingernails, lightly dragging across his scalp sent an instantaneous ache to his groin. He could always be certain Dafni was truly pleased with his presence between her legs when those slender fingers wove their way into his hair. Astarion let out a sharp intake of air as Dafni, lost to wanton urge, dragged him closer with a particularly enthusiastic pull.

“Such a needy, needy girl. He hummed between the ravenous strokes of his tongue, “You are getting close aren’t you, darling?”

“Mmmhmm...” She affirmed through a breathy sob and another meaningful yank of his roots. Dafni whimpered as he slipped his middle finger into her heat and then another, pumping and stretching until a high dulcet cry shook through her whole body.

Dafni’s eyes squeezed shut, a symphony of multicolored stars exploding behind her the darkness of her eyelids. She felt drunk and dizzied with pleasure. Her knees were jelly, her stationary leg threatened to buckle but Astarion kept his hold sure.

“That’s a good girl.” He purred, untangling himself from the limb tossed over his shoulder before guiding her down to her knees in the soft grass beside him.

Astarion placed a kiss on the center of her forehead, his hand sliding up the back of her head, nimbly untying the knot of her handkerchief. He ran his fingers through the wispy hairs at the nape of her neck. The calloused pads of his fingertips dragged their way down the exposed skin between her shoulder blades before they found the gauzy fabric of her frock. He traced the satin ribbon that ran down the back of the dress. As he began working the lace free of each tiny eyelet, he drew her into the sweetest kiss she’d ever received, his lips brushing against hers in slow, lulling presses.

The dance, that perfect kiss, it was as if he’d somehow gotten a hold of her girlhood journals and set himself to make every foolish daydream come true. Dafni cupped his face, coaxing him closer, cradling his strong, noble countenance with the same gentle reverence she would nature's most delicate creations. If only she could return the favor. Find some secret wish hidden boyish fancy locked away in the dusty attic of the fortress of hurt and anger that guarded his heart. If only he would allow her inside those daunting walls long enough to find it.

When Dafni cared for someone, it was never in half measures and she cared for Astarion more than most. He’d seen more hardship than soul ought to have. The thought of it made her stomach wrench and the knowledge that he had lived it, that felt as if her heart were caught in a vice of cold iron. She knew he despised her sympathies, mistaking her loving concern as pity. That no matter how much affection she poured into him, there would always be scars, not just the physical ones, that would linger. Still, she could offer him solace and refuge- A place for him to rest his weary soul and began healing.

Dafni brought her arms over her head as Astarion Freed her from her dress. She watched as his elbows bend, preparing to toss the pile of rainbow chiffon Gods knew where. Dafni’s brows pulled together tightly, catching his wrist in a loose grip she shook her head.

“I’m rather fond of that dress and I’ve had to go hunting for it among shrubbery once already.”

With an overstated roll of his claret red eyes, Astarion gingerly placed her dress down in the grass beside them. The annoyance that colored his features was quite short-lived. Free of her frock Dafni draped herself across the forest floor, her thighs parted exposing her glistening core to his gaze. She took up a fistful of his white cotton shirt, pulling him into the cradle of her hips.

He’d always thought her ravishing but, seeing her bare in the daylight…

If he weren’t dead already, the sight of Dafni, drenched in golden sunlight, thick, delicious thighs spread open in a sinful invitation, would have surely stopped his heart cold. Somehow the universe had managed to fit all the wild, joyful warmth of springtime into her splendid curvaceous body.

Astarion ran the back of his hand across the warm, speckled flesh of her rosy cheek. Dafni gave an approving sigh, nuzzling into the touch. He traced his way down the line of one of the pale, raised marks that decorated her full hips. Delicate, wavy paths that overlay all of her most ample and lovesome places- like tendrils of creeping ivy vine crawling their way up a forest church.

He gave one of her heavy breasts a squeeze, his thumb toying with its rosy nipple. Dafni let loose a bright keen as he took the little peak into his mouth. Her hips jerked upward, rocking back and forth over the hardness straining against his pants.

Dafni had him relieved of his shirt in a frenzied blur. She has chided him about his treatment of her frock but it seems she held no such scruples when it came to his clothing. Not that he was terribly put out, he found the wild desperation quite rousing.

“Astarion?”

Gods, the way she said his name. Dafni's voice always had a musical quality but the tuneful lilt rang most clearly in her elvish. Every time his name graced her plush pink lips he felt a distant pang of gratitude he hadn’t been given something more common.

“Daffodil?” He brushed a stray curl from her face, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes!” She said with a small, musical giggle, her hand coming to rest over his own at the side of her face, “I was just wondering if perhaps…”

“Perhaps what, dear? I don’t blush easily, pet. Make your request.”

“If you insist.” She took in a deep breath, her chest pressing against his most tantalizingly, “I was wondering if perhaps you’d take me as we are positioned now? With you on top. As you did the last time we found ourselves alone in this meadow?”

It was an almost innocent request.

His response should have been, Of course, darling! I’ll ravish you any way you’d like!

His chest tightened at the memory of her hand on the ruined flesh of his back- Of the sound of her tender promise he needn’t hide from her. All the delicious, debaucherous things she’d said that night, none had felt half as intimate the quiet reassurance murmured in her distinct, lyrical elvish. The sweet sincerity of her words had been enough to undo him that night.

You don’t have to hide from me.

Her liting voice still rattled about his skull like a harpy’s charm. He had foolishly allowed himself to believe her for a few, remarkable seconds. She was wrong, of course. There were most certainly parts of himself that always would remain locked uptight. Safe from those wide, curious eyes and that quivering lower lip.

He did want to do it, to cradle her close and gaze into those big, beautiful eyes as he hilted himself within her. He’d bedded her plenty of times, confident as could be! Why should this be any different?

I’ll feel vulnerable too and that terrifies me.

I’m already in too deep with you.

You’ll grow tired of me eventually and then I’ll feel like an idiot.

“It’s alright to say no.” She assured, “I would never ask you to do anything that made you uncomfortable.”

The words felt so like her.

Soft.

From the structure of her lovely face, her sea of floral adorned ringlets, to the fullness of her figure, or the bountiful, caring heart that thumped steadily beneath her breast, everything about Dafni was enticingly soft. Every part of her calling out to him, Just a little closer, let me shelter you from the storm inside your chest.

Dafni was one of those rare souls who was truly kind. She had no agenda or duplicitous intentions. Just a good heart and sheltered upbringing.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her arms pulling him into a snug embrace. The feeling of her chest rising and falling against his own was almost hypnotic. He could have lost himself for hours in the soft tide of her breathing. He raked his fingers through her messy hair.

“You’ve already made me so happy.” She murmured against his skin, “This morning has been like a dream.”

She was so precious.

A delicate flower that had somehow crept its way into the cracks in his soul. She made him feel needed. Special.

Maybe even loved?

He felt a rush of bruising guilt as the thought crossed his mind. He couldn’t give her love. Not yet- possible not ever. Love felt like a four-letter word. A word that could put them both in an early grave.

He shouldn’t have let things go this far. Gods knew he tried to keep some distance between them, to resist the strange pull he felt. Every time he would surrender to his desires. He had already allowed her this close, what difference did one more inch make?

Astarion felt heat pricking at the tips of his ears. She was making him into a sentimental fool! One of them needed to be sensible about things and it was certainly not going to be Dafni. He knew it was not a matter of if but when he’d be forced to break her heart. That was the conundrum of caring for her. On one hand, he couldn’t bear to see her hurt but it felt inevitable that he’d hurt her himself.

He did care for her.

He could allow himself that much. Perhaps, it was not in the way he should- Not the way she deserved, but it was as best he was able to for the time being.

She’d been a good and loyal friend. Someone he could trust to watch his back in a fight. She made him laugh and brought him the most joy he’d felt in centuries.

No, it wasn’t love. He was far too old and world-weary to name it as such. They had only known each other for a short while. She was young and by her own admission flighty when it came to relationships. He was bitter and hardly the sort of fairytale prince she’d want. Still, Dafni had taken up residence in a hidden corner of his heart. She was the one thing he felt he had any sort of claim to in centuries.

It wasn’t love, but maybe it didn’t need to be for it to be meaningful?

Maybe it could be one day? When he knew he was truly free of Cazador.

“Yes.” He whispered wrapping his arms around her waist.

What was the harm in another inch?

#astarion #elf writes #elf gets spicy #dafni of gwynneth #sunshine & starlight

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retroness-is-fabulous · 3 years

Photo

#Care Free Curl Lite #Care Free Curl #1986 #1980s hair #80s hair #80s typography #old school #80s aesthetic #nostalgia #nostalgic #memories #memory lane #classic #vtg #80s vtg #retro #retro blog #1980s fashion

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

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Catch Me If You Can

Oh my gosh finally complete and am so happy how it came out. This was commissioned by @beanspeens of her and her partner’s OCs! The entirety of it is an Original world and with Original characters and was a delight to make.

Want to see your own OCs come to life? Hit up my DMs to get on my waitlist and check out my commission page in my bio!

Summary: Demon loves his tiny nonbinary human and wants to bone them in the woods for sport.

Fandom: Original World

Relationship: OCS: Mavrick/Frankie

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, CNC, sexual roleplay, light biting, light degradation, light pussy slapping (Ie no pain, not hard), monster fucking, knotted dick, breeding kink, two fuckers in love, Frankie is nonbinary and uses they/them!

Words: 6.6k

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Nikita.

Nikita was a realm built separately from our own. A different dimension that somehow interconnected to our own through what was known as ‘rifts’, portal-like creations. No one knows where it began, or how it really began; Except for the god of it. Who, legend had it- had been snatched from the above world for the purpose of being a battery for souls originally. The once young teen had broken free, thus ascending to godhood, as far as the stories go for the god known present as: NG.

Being a teen meant a rampant sense of imagination. The once near empty world being influenced into a more magical sense full of varied creatures and magics. The lands were vast and plush, full of foliage, great tall mountains, and having small towns here and there. An un-colonized world. From our world, we could describe this way of living almost as Medieval. Old fashioned trading systems, coin trades made of precious metals, and no modern-day technology.

From Our world, people could fall through these rifts that seemed to be scattered throughout and randomly placed. It didn’t matter where or who, no one in particular, no one ever the same, just that you could fall through.

To us, these people who fell through were regular humans. To Nikita? These were known as ‘Otherworlders’. Finding their way home seeming near impossible, with only a handful of people who could send them back from Nikita to back where they came. If you could find the ones who could send you back.

~Rest under the cut~

However, most Otherworlders decide to stay for their own personal reasons. Never the same, yet always a tinge in their tone that implied life back home wasn’t so...welcoming as here. So, perhaps there was some common place for these people.

Since staying in Nikita was such a common occurrence for Otherworlders, organizations were made specifically with volunteers of varying creatures to help these strangers settle down into Nikita with little to no confusion. Some ended up great friends, some ended up partners for life, and some just ended up parting ways without any semblance of bonding.

Nikita was a world built around magic. Creatures from humans, to demons, to elves, to dragons, to even creatures akin to dogs or cats walking on two legs, to much more all alike and different survived here amongst each other. The magic ran deep throughout the lands and the people alike, abundant and plentiful much like the foliage that ran around the country.

Not everyone could use magic, however. But certain species could wield it easier than others.

For those of human nature, controlling and wielding such magics could prove to be difficult. Even if they could use just a bit, they still would not reach the levels that those of the dragon and demonic kind could reach. Those of which could wield it with ease, as if it ran through their very veins.

The term and species of demons in Nikita are not the religious kind from what we know from our world, yet can be similar in appearance. They are very mortal, living a few centuries long and come in various subspecies. The term ‘demon’ is also granted to those who don’t fit into any other species available. Such as mixed breeds or creatures without names.

The most abundant species of demon you could find here being the succubi, incubi, and omnubi. Looking almost human if it weren’t for their horns, varied colored skin, tails, teeth, and peculiar appetites.

Other demons? Could appear more monstrous rather than humanoid.

The demon of the hour that shall be heard of is named Mavrick, or rather preferring to be called Mav. And our Otherworlder of the hour, Frankie, whose paths will cross and go from snapping at each other, to traveling together, to friends with benefits, and finally to the lovers they currently are.

Meeting Mavrick, you’d think maybe you’d get your head bitten off right away, or maybe you’d get annoyed enough at his cocky mouth to jab him in the gut. Standing 8’2”, he gives off the impression of an asshole right away. Preferring to strut his stuff with a cocky flair, insults and sarcasm dripping off his tongue with ease.

Despite giving off the air of an asshole, he wasn’t all too bad- just more upfront about his emotions. Thus, can result in him also making call outs for people in public with shitty attitudes or clearly trying to find trouble; But when they turn back around full of fight and find themselves craning upwards to look up at the massive beast? They tend to drop that ‘ready to fight’ behavior quickly.

Not only was Mav’s huge size a good way to keep people from talking more shit, but his appearance was that of the more monstrous breed. With black, medium sized horns atop his head quirked slightly backwards into points and thick enough to get your fingers around, his head was almost like an insect’s in its rounded diamond manner with a slight, short snout. Said snout also could split into a maw, with teeth constantly growing much like a rat’s and needed to be ground down for threat of being too sharp.

A pair of goat-like ears, and pure white eyes that were almost cat-like in respect with a glow to them, a small white diamond pattern on his fur between his eyes and a half moon on his forehead. His face wasn’t too fluffy riddled with slick fur, but his body had to be the fluffiest, sans on his abdomen where there was thinner fur from his nervous habit of scratching.

His body is built with messy fur, slim without much muscle at all and predominantly black fur on his body. White, slick fur started at his biceps, working down into huge monstrous hands that looked more like full fingered claws than anything. His long legs worked their ways into black hooves, his tail long and prehensile with a spear tip, and wings on his back of white and black with little white diamonds hanging from the curled upper tips.

His voice is low, almost its own growling tone in a way with a slight twang to his accent that he adopted from his partner, Frankie’s, manner of speech. He even tended to make noises that were more animalistic ranging from growls to purrs to squeaking. His mannerisms more animalistic in terms of cocking his head when an odd noise arose to bristling if something upset him. Yet, walking on all four legs tended to frighten people, so he kept to two.

Mav is from Nikita, born and raised. He’s been self-reliant near all his life, coming from just south of here where nonhumans like himself are chased out or enslaved. Learning to do things himself, from building buildings to preparing food, to learning how to protect himself since such a young age. Fear and distrust of humans had built into a survival tactic, until he’d met Frankie.

Frankie, in turn, was a human. An Otherworlder, in fact. They come across, at first, as quiet and cautious, but once you got to know them, they’d open up into a fun-loving goofball who cracked jokes. And would rather finger gun their way out of an argument rather than pick a fight.

From Our world, they’re used to doing everything themself. From their home life to past relationships, they had been raised to be a homegrown people pleaser. Frankie was kicked out of their home at 16 when they’d come out to their family, and then lived with a friend’s family until they were 18 where their boyfriend at the time aided in getting them an apartment together.

And that’s where their story got worse.

That, thankfully now ex, boyfriend had seen them as ‘woman lite’ and not nonbinary. And that they were someone, regardless of Frankie’s actual future plans, who would leave him hot dinner on the table, get pregnant, and take care of the children. They broke up a few years later from him at 21, and at 22 fell through a portal to Nikita.

Possibly a blessing in disguise, despite their roughed-up palms.

They’d met Mav quickly after, who didn’t quite trust humans so Frankie was someone to bristle around and puff himself up to seem bigger. It took some time as they traveled together and Frankie deciding to stay, growing used to this new way of life before they’d found their relationship going from traveling partners, to friends with benefits. And after that, came a slow romance budding on both ends until they became happy partners.

In terms of appearance, Frankie was vastly different from Mav.

Standing at 5’9”, they had a sweeter appearance. With dark auburn short hair in a messy little wavy undercut, their facial shape rounded and softer. Their eyes are hooded with thick lashes, a golden-brown shade of color to their iris. Their eyebrows are thick but well kept, their button nose dotted in freckles, and their lips softly shape and plump. Freckles dot all across their warm brown skin, including all over their face with more prominent areas being their nose, cheeks, and forehead.

Their body type is pretty average, with C cup breasts and a slight amount of chub on their tummy. Their long legs were strong, and their hips rounding out a bit. Their most prominent feature being their ass, possibly the definition of a bubble butt and most certainly joked about in their relationship. Body hair they kept; Sans underarms due to the scratchy feeling.

As far as their relationship? It had grown. From when they had been traveling companions, to finding company within each other sexually, to now romantically. Long since gone are the days where they traveled the country together- Mav had built a cabin he’d lived in for years and now shared with Frankie.

Said home was a homestead- more of a farm that was surrounded by lush tall mountains and vast lands. It was built to look like a beautiful, moderate sized log cabin with a front and back porch. It looked almost abandoned on the outside, like a regular old house until you walked inside.

Outside of it, however, they were very secluded, to the point it took two hours by foot to get to the nearest town. Due to this, they live their lives more rurally. With a farm full of livestock from chickens to cows, to plumbing so they could have running water, to a large garden that was lovingly taken care of.

Well. If you’d count Frankie pulverizing weeds and yelling things akin to, “You think you’re so tough, huh? Hurting my poor lil ’ innocent tomatoes? Fuck off and die you green heathens!” a ‘lovingly taken care of garden’. Then yes.

Yes, it was.

When you walked inside, it felt like a home. The vibes given off are more of an elderly couple than it is for a human and a demon with a knack for creating and hoarding objects. Mav created most of the décor and furniture by hand, the table comfortably seating them both and made of local wood from the vast woods surrounding them. Bones made into wind chimes outside, wreaths handmade with flowers and vines collected from around their property and garden, chairs with extra padding from shearing the sheep to take their wool.

Mav also had a tendency to collect things from years of travel, but anything that wasn’t hung up inside was out in a large, old shed. Probably never to be touched again.

Whoops.

Their home wasn’t messy, kept tidy inside by both of them working together. The bed sheets were a mess in the morning, but nothing to really do about that. Unless, of course, it was winter; Where Mav would shed absolutely everywhere and the sheets needed to be washed due to it. Lots of dusting and lots of grooming going on with a brush and Frankie’s hands. Always followed by the comments of, “You shed so much we could make thirty sweaters out of it!”

Followed by Mav’s insistent purring at the grooming and absolutely tuning out the comment every time without another thought.

Together, they loved as if they were soulmates. Hard and loyally.

Buuuuut that didn’t stop them from teasing each other. From Frankie reminding him his ‘chew toys’ were in the corner when Mav was gnawing on his own hands as if THAT would stop his teeth’s insistent growing. To Mav putting things up high or using Frankie’s head as an arm rest.

But, on the other side, when Frankie is feeling upset or down, Mav is quick on his toes. Nuzzling their face, pressing his snout in little kisses to their face until they’re beaming and having to stim out their emotions by finding his thicker fur to stroke and lightly pull. Or when Mav is upset, distancing himself and trying to contain it in his body, Frankie is quick to get him settled into bed or on the couch. Clambering into his lap, grabbing his snout in both hands and acting like a sports announcer hyping him up with, “You’re cute! You’re good! You’re gonna be okay!” Until his face is embarrassed and his tail is thumping on the ground like a pleased dog’s.

However, though that normally resulted in successfully perking up Mav, he’d still move to roll them over and try to pretend smother them with a pillow. Or simply lying on top of them while they whined about how heavy and warm he was followed by, “You can’t hide from your feelings, Mav, you big softie!!! You have feelings too!!!”

Mav was also the cook in their relationship- Frankie is scared to cook, a fear from past bad experiences and life back on Our world being...hardened. However, they were learning to do certain tasks, taking great love in helping out in the kitchen.

Normally resulting in powder ending up on their clothing and looking to Mav with a big smile of pride at their own accomplishments and Mav’s heart damn near pounding out of his chest. Often having to look away and huff out a ‘Good job, sweetheart’ just so he wouldn’t be enamored with them further.

Which normally failed after he heard their stimming following immediately of the ‘pat pat pat ’ of their hands on the counter and Mav would be weak in the knees with his love for them. His tail swishing in happiness was the giveaway always, gathering Frankie’s attention to switch their patting to winding their arms around him so they could stroke at his fur while he cooked the rest of dinner.

Typically, this led to something a little more ‘hot and heavy’ after dinner. Where the two would be filled with those specifics that had butterflies in both of their stomachs.

Both their sexual appetites were in sync in a lot of manners. They went well together in terms of sexual preferences, kinks, and libido. Sex was quite common between them, as they were friends with benefits way before they were even partners. Just, now, the intimacy between them was stronger. To the point back when they were just friends with benefits, Mav could be crueler during scenes and ride through it without fault, but now tended to have to pause a scene to check on Frankie and calm his own worries about hurting them too much. Even having to end a scene too early sometimes.

Mav was a sadist by heart, his ultimate goal being to make someone cry from ‘too much’ or 'too little’. Or even by roughing them up on purpose. He had the teeth and claws for it, he had the snarl for it, he had the hunting instinct for it, and most importantly: He had the sense for it. To make safe words and safe signals for any sort of scenario just to be safe. Especially for Frankie, who, well, was human and much...fleshier and softer than his teeth and claws.

Frankie, on the other hand, would much prefer to be belly up and whine for him. They were usually obedient for Mav, being a good toy for whatever he had planned for them that night. But, sometimes, bratty nature just...slipped out. Liking to tease, poke, prod, or add another element to a specific scene they were trying to play out. Unfortunately, pain wasn’t big on their list of wants, but some was alright and even wanted. Small nicks and bites here and there LOUDLY being welcomed.

This led to them talking about scenes as well. Mav was more open about discussing kinks and ideas, while Frankie tended to be flustered and turning red in the face when specific things were brought up. However, they could communicate very well with Frankie being honest about their ‘yes’ and no’s when it came to certain things.

Like now, they’re sitting at their little handmade table. The birch wood having their respective cups on top with Frankie tapping their fingers on the wood idly. Their eyes are looking to the side, their face red all the way to their ears as they nod quietly to Mav asking if they were up for something a little...rougher today.

Mav doesn’t dodge around the subject, going straight into it once he can smell their pheromones have picked up. But, it does make his speech have a slight growl to it instead as he speaks slowly for them to hear clearly what he’s asking of them. “I want to try a roleplay- you're very fond of being my prey, right?”

He pauses there, waiting for Frankie’s reply which is a quick nod of their head and one of their hands moving to cup their own warmed cheek in embarrassment. “Y-yeah.”

Mav’s maw near about salivates at the sight of them already squirming, but he coolly continues, “I want you to run. Run fast, run hard, as if I’m coming after you to eat you alive.” His tone is a low growl when he speaks, but his body language is still comforting for them. Moving so he can rest a large, clawed hand on the table where Frankie’s fingers have stopped tapping, their hand just resting there. Gently curling one claw around their hand that they quickly latch onto with a fleeting glance towards Mav’s predatory look.

“I can run.” Frankie says quietly, knowing Mav is waiting for their response. They swallow at the idea, rubbing their thighs together and knitting their brows as their cogs turn, wondering what he was leading up to.

“I want you to pretend you don’t know me,” Mav says slowly, watching Frankie perk up at that in curiosity, turning their gaze to him with less embarrassment and more interest. “That I’m some big scary monster and my sole goal of the night is to breed you and take you as my mate.”

“Oh.” Frankie breathes, red creeping onto their ears all the way down to their chest.

“Oh?”

“Good ’oh’! Good ‘oh’.” Frankie clarifies, squeezing his claw softly as their gaze settles onto the wall beside him instead.

There’s a moment of quiet as Mav moves his hand, letting his palm lie up on the table so Frankie can rest their softer, fleshy hand over top. They’re worrying their bottom lip with a gentle bite, clearly mulling it over, but oh- oh their scent-

Mav is practically drooling to get his tongue buried in their cunt. He almost changes his mind, almost asks them to wait right there and be good so he could just bury his head between their thighs and make Frankie his t--

“Do I get a head start?” Frankie cuts into his thoughts, glancing coyly under their lashes at him in a way that’s almost challenging. As if they COULD outrun him.

Mav’s maw near splits into a wide grin. “You will surely need it, slow poke.”

Frankie thinks, for once, they regret their choice of comfortable wear for the evening. They had asked Mav if they could change, but he’d just started counting down as if he hadn’t heard them despite the perk of his ears.

Asshole.

They’d been quick to bolt out of the house from the backdoor, zipping over the gates and hearing the curious bleating of their sheep and startled cooing of their chickens. They pay no mind as they hurdle over the tall fences, making their way into the thick brush of woods nearby.

This is the scent Mav follows, and Frankie knows he’s hot on their heels. At least they wore their sneakers today- but maybe jeans and a sweater weren’t the best of options for physically exerting activities. Like running.

God, they hated running.

They’re zipping through trees as best as they can, getting it out of their mind that Mav is chasing them. Scene- right, it’s a scene. They don’t know it’s Mav chasing them, but a. ..a creature- a monster of some sort who...who was only there to breed them, to take them as a mate-

Frankie finds their breath quivering and legs pounding harder as they leap over a fallen log, trying to twist and turn and throw their scent of, but they know better. They know better than to even stop for a second to catch their breath.

They know they won’t outrun him.

For their own pride, however, they count themself lucky that they even make it to twenty minutes before they hear the quickened thumping of what sounds like four feet. Instincts kick in as Frankie squeaks when a shadow darts to their left, quickly running towards the right like frightened prey. They’d been so careful to avoid being out in the open, all clearings avoided, sticking to the trees, trying to make it more difficult.

They end up being pounced on by a fluffy, lengthy body. Frankie lets out a scream as they go toppling to the ground flat on their abdomen in a soft patch of dirt. The trees look massive as they extend towards the sky in their eye line, the area looking as if it had been stomped down a good twelve feet across towards the foliage and trees. Keeping the land flat and thankfully not muddy.

Before they could survey their surroundings more, Frankie is kicking into high gear. Squirming beneath the large body atop them, managing to get out for just a moment to try and scramble to their feet. Frankie hears a snarl before their ankle is snatched, toppling them once more as they’re dragged backwards with a cry.

They quickly find themself on their back, panting hard as their lungs and legs ache equally. They see a maw split open above them to reveal sharp teeth, freshly filed. Glowing eyes are narrowed and a low snarl bubbling above them.

“You’re wet.” Comes the snarling, low voice above them. Frankie whimpers out in embarrassment, moving their hands to maybe push at the fluffy chest above them, but their wrists are snatched in large claws. Holding them firmly above their head as pressure rests between their legs. “Oh? You like that, too, pet? Filthy little thing.”

Mav’s voice sounds...different. More possessive, a low growl above them that leaves Frankie’s heart pounding. Something Mav can most certainly hear. He gives them a moment, waiting for them to speak before proceeding when they look just as into it as he is. “I think you’ll hold my pups nicely; Don’t you think? You smell fertile, little one. Like a bitch in heat.”

That does it, a low whine exhaling from Frankie’s lungs. They squirm, pulling at their wrists with a small cry of, “N-no!” Despite the fact they most certainly lifted their hips up in the hope of finding his sheath to urge him on.

Maybe they weren’t so good at this ‘pretend to not want it’ thing.

Mav seems to like their response regardless, snarling low and deep in his chest as he brings his teeth to their throat. His maw is held open, as if threatening to bite down on their neck like a naughty kitten. Frankie’s breath is panicked as they feel his hot breath fanning over them, saliva on his teeth making the situation seem more realistic of ‘fuck or die’.

Immediately, Frankie holds still, trembling and feeling their heart racing. They felt like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. Their mind races equally, caught between sub space and playing into the scene, or feeling the mild need to make a joke about how ‘wet’ Mav’s mouth was.

Thankfully, the former seems to take over than their delight in bullying him, because a sharp whimper exhales from their nose.

When Mav pulls back to look at them, his eyes are a terrifying glow of want. They feel him rut between their legs briefly, able to glance down and see that fluffy little sheath hidden within his fur start to peek out. Only an inch of his cock is peeking right now, with a tapered head making its appearance with a ribbed texture starting just underneath in a beautiful black and white marbling.

They know in all its glory, he’s big. Nine inches in total, with thick ribbing nearly all the way down to his knot, and a wonderful thickness that always was nearing on ‘too much’. Which was quickly ‘too much’ once they got to his knot. With a thickness maybe the size of a baseball or bigger, it always took prep to get them to be able to take it. Most times, if they didn’t have the toys or patience, Frankie would end up just having the knot outside of them and Mav filthy snarling in their ear about how he wanted to breed them properly.

The idea always sent a thrill down their spine.

A yelp exits their lips when they’re suddenly being tugged up by the underside of their thighs, hoisting their hips into the air so Mav can grab their ass, leaving their upper back and head on the ground with their arms lying flat to keep themself up. They watch him bury his face between their thighs, his short snout nosing at the front of their jeans where a wet spot was making itself seen even in the light of the bright, full moon and the darkness of the world.

“Mmmm, a treat just for me, little thing? You like being my toy?”

“No! Let me go!”

Mav’s eyes flickering up to their face is almost uncertain at first. But seeing that Frankie isn’t using any signals or special words, he lets that momentary uncertainty fade into the feeling of possession. He snarls back at them, nosing harder at their cunt to get further acquainted with their scent, near drowning in it. “I don’t think you’re callin’ the shots here, sweetheart.”

Mav at least doesn’t tear their clothing apart, but he keeps them in that position as he unbuttons and unzips their pants. There’s a hurry to get their shoes off, yanking their pants and underwear with them and leaving them in just their sweater and socks. His clawed hands cup their ass, still keeping them afloat with himself on his knees near bent in half to reach them with his snout pressing to their cunt.

He nuzzles his way against their wet folds, feeling over the curly hair they had resting there and just how delicious they smelled. He groans against them, letting his long tongue loll out to swipe up them from hole to clit, letting his maw hang open so he could scent them better. It’s when he growls does Frankie’s hips twitch up, having been so good at holding their self-control up until then.

“Look at how wet your little cunt is, sweet thing.” He growls against them, running his tongue over their clit in a long, slow slick just to make their breath catch. “Mmh. What a pathetic, eager breeding bitch you are, dontcha’ think?”

He doesn’t give them a chance to answer, his claws pressing to their skin to hold them in place. His snout noses at them, curling his tongue deep into their cunt with his snout pressed to their clit, making sure to nuzzle and apply pressure with the curling of his tongue following the motions. Frankie can’t help the noises they make, looking so beautiful under him with their body folded in half, their sweater dropping to just below their chest and the softness of their abdomen rolled and squished.

Mav can only groan at the sight of them, of how their lips part and their head tilts to the side. They keep great in character with little whimpers of ‘no’ under their breath, fizzling out to moans when his curls his tongue upwards, sliding it out of them to get his tongue on their clit. Just to watch their hips try to buck upwards, trying to get more pressure like they wanted. By now his cock is slid entirely out of its sheath, hanging wet and heavy between his legs.

He’s a bit disappointed he didn’t think to bring a toy with him. Stretch them out in the middle of the woods just so he could knot them properly.

As soon as Mav hears their breath quickening, he pulls back. Delighting in how Frankie’s fist pounds on the ground with a cry out of dismay of, “Please!”

“Aw, already begging? What happened to ‘no’?” Mav teases back, holding them up with one hand under their ass, his other coming up so he could run a knuckle over their hole up to their clit in a back and forth fashion.

Fingering was a no-go situation due to how he could cut them, but he could tease them with these little touches. Delighting in how their breath catches and how Frankie’s hips try to buck upwards for more pressure. Eyebrows knitted and frustration written across their features.

With their red face, Frankie whimpers and turn their head again. Stubbornly choking out, “Please let me go-” With their voice betraying the wobble of how badly they wanted him. Poor thing.

“Oh? Let you go? No, no, no, I don’t think that’s what you want me to do, baby doll. Look at you, so pliant and open for me, so eager to cum on my tongue. What if someone heard you, hm? Came by and fucked that pretty little mouth to keep you quiet instead?” Mav teases them, leaning down to lap at their clit a few times, his knuckle resting just underneath to keep it pronounced and feeling the harsh contractions of their cunt.

Once again, he stops when he hears their crying getting louder. Pulling away with a string of saliva connecting him to their pretty little pussy, all reddened and flushed. A perfect little treat for him.

“Just admit you want me to breed you. I want to hear you say it nice and clear. Politely, if you would please. Then maybe you can cum.” Mav croons out, his tone a bit cocky, moving his hand from their pussy to give it a flat palmed smack. Not hard enough to hurt or even hard enough to make a sound, but enough to send a reverberation up their clit and startle them into yelping.

“I-I-..”

“You?”

“I...” Frankie starts, their breath shaking as they feel Mav lowering them back to the ground. They can’t find the fight in them, though they do consider what he would do if they were to get back up and try and run for it. They wouldn’t get far, and judging by his mood already, they’d probably end up edged with no hope of orgasm in sight.

They swallow thickly, feeling his intense stare and unable to look up at him. They roll their hips into nothing, aching for his tongue to be back on them. But after a few moments of his reassuring hands gently grabbing their thighs and stroking ever so subtly with his thumbs to comfort them, they manage to get it out with their face burning red, “Iwantyoutobreedme -- please?”

“Didn’t quite catch that, little one.” Mav teases, a grin stretching across his maw just to watch Frankie’s head thunk back into the dirt with a groan. He has a feeling they almost break the scene just to kick him, but they manage again to speak in their prettiest of tones.

“I want you t ...to breed me, please. Please cum inside me, please?”

Oh...Oh that was...a lot better than he thought that was going to sound.

A groan leaves Mav’s throat as he pulls them by their hips closer, pulling their legs up and around him so his cock could rest over their cunt. Showing and displaying his length and girth up their abdomen just to remind them of his size. “See? Was that so hard to say? And here you were acting like you didn’t want this. Knew you did, could smell it on you all the way from your little home. Poor thing, hope no one is missing you right now.”

He ruts against them a few times just so pre-cum will drool onto their exposed flesh from their lifted sweater. He’s almost tempted to fuck their cute little freckled face and make them choke, but instead he leans back on his knees, wrapping his large hand around his cock and idly stroking. “Finger yourself. Stretch yourself open for me, sweetheart- and don’t you fucking cum, you understand?”

Frankie is quick to nod desperately, pulling their fingers to their mouth to suckle on before reaching down to trace their engorged clit briefly. They quickly move two fingers inside of themself, awkwardly lifting their hips up and huffing when they catch him jerking himself off at the same time they move their fingers.

Something oddly sensual about the way he watches them, his breaths shadowed with a hint of a huffing growl with each stroke of his hand. His eyes glow brightly in the darkness around them, his tail swishing in that little way he did whenever he was watching them and lost in thought. Frankie can’t help but smile, accidentally breaking the scene when Mav can’t help but smile back.

They sink three fingers in and have a hard time smiling as their mouth forms a gasp, letting their head fall back and instantly feeling Mav covering their body with his own. His fur brushes against their arm as they finger their own cunt, their free hand coming up to lace at the fur at the back of his neck and dragging his mouth to the crook of their neck. He makes this little crooning sound, nosing his way there until his teeth scrape and make Frankie’s breath catch.

“We’ll try this scene another time.” Mav assures them in their ear so their anxiety doesn’t flare up, letting his tongue flick over their ear just to hear them squeak and jump.

“Don’t lick me when I’m trying to finger myself!” They choke out with a shaky laugh of pleasure, working a fourth finger in with a low whine to follow.

“At least I didn’t shove my tongue in your ear.”

“Mav I will make you cum on the dirt if you do.”

“Aw, come on!”

The whine he lets out makes Frankie laugh, the tension easing between them as their fingers slip from their body. They let out a gasp when they’re rolled onto all fours, quickly taking the hint and crossing their arms under their head as a makeshift pillow to brace for the impact. Instead, they feel his snout pressing at their exposed cunt again, twisting his tongue inside of them and curling it over itself to keep them stretched.

It doesn’t help when one of his hands moves so his knuckle can rub their clit. Making their thighs shake with an impending orgasm. “M-Mav-” They whimper out, curling their toes and feeling the wave start to hit-

And the little bastard stops again. Pulling his hand and mouth away and making Frankie cry out in frustration with tears pricking their eyes. They go to lift their head to maybe snap at him, but quickly find his clawed hand holding them down by the back of their neck. “Don’t move or you won’t cum the rest of the night, sweetheart. With the way you keep whinin’? Almost addicted to it by now.”

Thankfully, he spares them any reply when they feel the tapered, rounded head of his cock pressing to their stretched, wet hole. The pressure stretching their walls and making them groan into their cloth covered arms.

Mav’s hips are quick to slam into them, keeping one hand on the back of their neck, the other grabbing their hip to yank them back into each thrust. With all the teasing and the build up, Frankie’s already on the edge, and it sounds like Mav isn’t too far behind.

His body covers their back when he leans over them, his hand moving from their neck to the ground to curl his claws into the dirt. His other hand matching as he fucks hard into them. His grunts and growls by their ear overpowering the sound of their own cries. A sob wracks through Frankie’s chest, tilting their hips up and digging their sock-clad feet into the ground to get him to keep hitting that spot-

“I’m gonnacumI’mgonnacum-” Frankie sobs out, feeling the width of his knot slamming against the rim of their pussy again and again. They feel one of his arms go around their waist to lock them where they were trying so hard to stay, fucking into them until they’re burying their mouth against their arm with a cry.

“Cum, baby, go ahead, want to f-feel you cum. Gonna cum inside you, baby, that okay?” He’s gasping against their shoulder now. And that’s the final straw as Frankie mumbles ’yes yes yes’ under their breath as they cum. Their legs tremble, feeling wetness creeping down their legs and onto the dirt as tears prick their eyes from the intensity.

Mav isn’t too far behind, his speech starting to turn into mumbles. His hand against their abdomen and pressing as if he could feel himself inside of them, desperately mumbling into their skin, “ Gonna breed you, sweetheart. Gonna fill your sweet pussy with my cum. Gonna keep fucking you till it takes -”

Before he’s cumming with desperate pounds of his hips and low, huffing snarls from his throat. Trying so hard to fuck against them to get his knot in to no avail, much to whining on his part. Yet, he still does stay still inside them as if he did knot them, rolling his hips and pressing his snout to their neck affectionately.

It’s after five minutes does Frankie speak, their voice hoarse and whiny. “I’m hungryyyy.”

“Mmmh. Two more minutes. You’re still tight.”

“If I don’t get a sandwich within five, I am gonna kill you.”

“Hot. Maybe I’ll wait seven, then.”

Frankie groans, splatting under him as their knees give out. Hearing him laugh as he helps pull them upwards. Carefully and slowly pulling out and hissing at the sight of his cum spilling out of them, going so far as to pull one of their cheeks apart to let it drip onto the ground.

“Mav. Hungry.”

“Damn, me too. Look atcha, sweetheart.”

“Mav!!!”

That’s when he laughs, patting their ass affectionately and offers to carry them home as a fair trade for them not to kill him. Which is agreed to, with his partner flat on their back and making grabby fingers up at him until he picks up all their clothes and scoops them up in turn. Holding them bridal style in his arms as Frankie starts to giggle out. “Is your dick still out?”

“At least I’m not the one who spilled cum on the dirt.”

“It was from YOUR dick!!!!”

With the fading argument left humming in the woods with the sound of laughter following in their wake.

No, maybe they didn’t get the scene right this time, but neither would have had it any other way.

#Ocs #Frankie #Mavrick #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing #This one wasn't in my masterlist so I'm quickly posting it so I can add it later!#And so I don't lose her fiC!!!

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