#I’m tried to use only the scenes that are from the trail but I remembered that Megatron literally had a poker face during the whole thing 🚶

[jester-step]

okay but barbara kean and edward nygma both started out as good, friendly people, both struggled with a darker side of themselves, both dealt with drug use and childhood abuse, both had downhill character arcs in S1 that culminated in a traumatic event triggering a mental breakdown, both became flashy villains with a flair for drama and violence, and ofc they’re both bisexual icons

my POINT is their chemistry and parallels were wasted on Ed’s revenge arc and we were robbed of them being not only an iconic power duo but also besties 💔

#i will die on this hill #the scenes where barbara asks ed for help with the court and where they’re torturing mayor james live in my head rent free #yes barbara wanted smth out of him but it’s so obvious how much fun they had together!! #i can’t remember if it’s canon but i keep seeing ppl mention that barbara gave ed the drugs he used in 3x15 and just #the IMPLICATIONS #like they mentioned she struggled with drug abuse in S1 and then never brought it up again like??? #there were so many opportunities to point out the many parallels in their backstories and we got NOTHING #also i see the appeal of shipping them but their friendship is infinitely more interesting to me #bc barbara grew up being told her self-worth was defined by her beauty and charm and learned to use those as tools for manipulation #and yet when she tries to do that w ed (trailing a finger down his jaw etc) he looks completely Unbothered #i just like the idea of their relationship being completely platonic and him liking her bc she’s clever and dramatic and fun #but barbara still flirts w him for fun bc he’s unaffected and only has eyes for a certain penguin anyways #basically i want an AU w no isabella and where barbara and ed’s friendship grew organically from their tendency to be Dramatic Bitches #this is completely incoherent but anyways it’s pride month and i’m bi so my opinion is Correct /j #barbara kean #edward nygma #the riddler #gotham #gotham tv #gotham fox #also i think they both had their Villain Moment in ‘under the knife’ in S1 so some of these parallels must’ve been deliberate #and then they were just NEVER brought up like WHAT

[ctitan98official]

Anonymous: How about some heroic angst? How would Alcina react to [Y/N] almost dying while saving the daughters from hunters?

Yes! This is a great idea! Let’s get into it!

Alcina knew something was wrong that morning when the castle was eerily devoid of the usual laughter and antics.

She had awoken to an empty bed. You were nowhere to be seen.

As she descended the stairs she heard the sounds of a physical struggle from outside.

Then she heard a gunshot. A piercing sound that that left utter silence in its wake.

Alcina ran to open the castle doors and found a bloody massacre outside.

Bodies strewn in heaps littered the ground.

Alcina anxiously scanned the scene and called out to her daughters.

“Bela! Cassandra! Daniela!” She called. And then she remembered… She hadn’t seen you yet.

Only one of her daughters swarmed in front of her. Bela looked weak, but she would recover.

The blonde frantically pointed to one lone body that was still breathing. Daniela and Cassandra were leaning over it, trying to provide aid.

Alcina felt her heart drop. She knew it was you.

Alcina and Bela raced to your side.

“I’m trying to put pressure on the wound, mother… Y/N was shot! There’s so much blood, I don’t know what to do!” Cassandra explained through her tears.

Daniela hung her head and wept. “They were trying to protect us, mother! Hunters were trying to kill us, and Y/N…” She trailed off in a choked sob.

Alcina felt her heart break at your bravery and subsequent injuries.

“Y/N, can you here me?!” Alcina pleaded.

Your breathing was shallow, but you cracked your eyes open and tried to focus on Alcina.

“I’m here… Alcina…” You managed to get out.

Alcina felt relief surge through her veins. You were alive. There was still hope.

Alcina turned to Cassandra. “Darling, go run and get Mother Miranda. Tell her what’s happened.” Alcina urged her daughter.

Cassandra handed her mother the rag she was using to try and curb the bleeding and swarmed off.

“You’ll be alright, Y/N. Just try to stay awake okay, baby?” She rubbed a hand through your sweat-soaked hair as she used the other to apply pressure to your wound.

You gasped out weak breaths as blood pooled in your mouth and ran down your chin.

Alcina sobbed as she gently wiped the blood away from your face.

Daniela was unusually quiet as she rocked back and forth, trying to calm down.

The next few hours went by in a blur. Mother Miranda worked tirelessly to try and heal you, but it was clear it was a lost cause.

The only solution Mother Miranda had left was to give you the cadou.

Alcina cried into her hands as she tried to make the best decision without your input.

She didn’t want you to be forced to walk the earth forever like her… But she felt selfish. She wanted you by her side always.

After she heard your breathing begin to slow… She made her decision.

Mother Miranda gave you the cadou and, thankfully, your body hadn’t rejected it.

Now, only time would tell how your body would develop new capabilities.

You awake to the sight of your precious Alcina rubbing anxious fingers on your head.

Your daughters are also by your side. Daniela snuggled into your side and Bela and Cassandra sitting next to you.

You chuckle and four sets of golden eyes lock on your face.

“Did you miss me?” You joke tiredly.

The girls and Alcina cry and nuzzle their faces into you.

Now you would be with them forever. You feel content with this arrangement.

Masterlist

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 #re8 village #re8 lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #alcina dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil imagines #lady dimitrescu x y/n #angst #angst drabble #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

[seaslugfanclub]

Yayyyy, asks are open! So anyways, I remember in the favorite villain request that Jafar mentioned about helping Reader with unsavory guests, can we get a scenario of Reader dealing with those kinds of guests? You can use any villains you’d like lol

Losers, Creeps, and Weirdos

TW: Creepy park guest being gross!

It was a good day. Pleasant temperatures, manageable crowds, and full staff. (Y/N) thought that it’d be one of those rare occasions where they’d be able to go home early.

Of course, the universe has a cruel sense of humor.

It was halfway through (Y/N)’s shift, and they’d been scheduled to walk around Magic Kingdom, helping guests with directions and keeping a general eye on things. And from afar everything seemed normal, a couple Disney characters walking around and interacting with guests, but (Y/N) noticed after a while that a lone male park guest was constantly trailing behind Princess Aurora.

(Y/N) tried to brush it off at first, thinking that the guy was a little socially inept, just wanting an autograph. But the way the man was just… looking at the increasingly uncomfortable princess made (Y/N) feel nauseated. It was when the man got Aurora near a park bench somewhat out of sight that (Y/N) began to speed walk towards the two. (Y/N) got there right when the man began to reach his hand out towards the girl, Aurora looking near to tears.

(Y/N) immediately got between the two, making sure Princess Aurora was out of sight behind them as the man looked shocked. And that was the moment the scene began.

“I’m telling you now, man. If you don’t back off right now I’m going to call park security. I swear to god I’ll do it.”

“Are you serious right now!? It’s just a park attraction, your acting like it’s a real person!”

The man was incessant, unable to just walk away. His face was red and (Y/N) was slowly reaching towards their walkie talkie, ready to call security.

“I’m not going to stay here and teach you the basics of human decency, she is a 16 year old girl. Either you leave yourself or by force.” (Y/N) remained stone-faced, arms still protecting Aurora behind them, who was now clinging to their tennis shirt.

“Wha- do you know how expensive it is to get into here!? JUST LET ME-“ He started to move towards (Y/N), about to grab them when a slender hand stopped him.

“-excuse yourself from the premises and never return.. Yes, I do believe that’s the best course of action.”

(Y/N) and Aurora turned towards Jafar, who had his scepter raised and the man’s hand in a vice like grip. The cobra scepter gleamed red as the man’s face went slack, eyes becoming a cloudy red.

“yeah… i should… i should leave…” the man slurred, Jafar letting go of the unnamed guests hand as he began to walk away, his movement’s unnaturally stiff, only for Jafar to grasp the man’s shoulders again, his face twisted in disgust.

“Oh, and while you’re at it, why don’t you take a quick dip in the lake? I’m sure Medusas crocodiles would… appreciate the company.” He crooned as he lightly shoved the man away, for good this time.

The group watched as the man lumbered off, disappearing into the crowd. After a beat of silence Jafar turned around to the shocked (Y/N) and Princess Aurora.

“And I think that we should report this to management, don’t you think (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) straightened out a bit, nodding in agreement, “Yeah… let’s go”

————————————————————————

Upper management was naturally disturbed at the days events, taking aside everyone to get their own accounts of the story. After a report was filed, and both park security and police set off to find the man, the group was dismissed.

Princess Aurora was taken off the schedule for the next few days, and a one of (Y/N)’s colleagues was called to chaperone the princess back to where all the “Good Guys” resided. But not before giving a tearful ‘thank you’ and a quick peck on (Y/N)’s cheek as gratitude. Princess Aurora, bless her heart, even gave Jafar a timid yet heartfelt thanks, before departing with the park attendant. (Y/N) and Jafar now alone in the empty workroom.

….

“I can’t believe it…What you did today was..nice.” (Y/N) looked up at Jafar in awe, a crooked smile stretching across their face.

Jafar shuddered, waving his hand in dismissal, “Oh please, you know better. I was simply going about by business when I saw that… altercation. I couldn’t have such troglodyte ruin a peaceful day for me. You know as well as I do that the only ones that can bother you are us.”

“I know, but you could’ve found another park staff to help, instead you went out of your way to help us. Thank you.” (Y/N) chuckled, laughing even more at Jafar’s disgusted expression.

“Yes, yes, I’m amazing. Just don’t go blabbering about this to the others, Allah knows what’s going to happen to my reputation when that princess inevitably tells her little friends about today’s events. Ugh- I’m never going to live down..” He muttered under his breath, rubbing the space between his eyes.

(Y/N) hummed, dusting themselves off as they began to leave,

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul. I owe you one, Jafar— oh!”

Before Jafar could react, (Y/N) spun around- reached up and kissed the ex-viziers cheek,

“-As an extension of my gratitude. See ya!” They whispered, before quickly pulling back and rushing out of the room, leaving the flustered sorcerer behind, gently touching his cheek.

“Hmm… mabye it wouldn’t hurt to help them more often…”

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed! I hope I wrote Jafar not too OOC 😅 It’s a shame that a lot of people forget that virtually all the Disney Princesses are children, the amount of mature content I’ve seen of them is super uncomfortable.

Oh, and the other Villians totally caught wind of what Jafar did, now they’re all ragging on him.

#disney villains #disney imagine #disney x reader #self insert #disney jafar #jafar #princess aurora #aladdin

[peachesofteal]

okay okay I’m the anon who sent in the ask about if Simon would’ve chased Darling and like…now you have me intensely needing that AU where he chases her, carries her back, and ties her to the bed 😈

AND wondering how they even got her to the flat in the first place?? Like even Darling is confused, so it must’ve been that quick for Simon and Johnny to get her from the hotel back home for her to wonder how the hell she got back there

Sorry sorry I’m just so obsessed with Dead Disco and all these possible AUs and different scenes and scenarios have me going absolutely FERAL

I could be very well tempted to write "tying to the bed" au but also, loved this opportunity to revisit Darling and the guys between chapters three and four, when she was incredibly vulnerable and in a difficult mental space. So, thank you. All my love to you! 🩵

Canon for Dead Disco - takes place between Chapters 3 and 4. 18+ Mature themes. No smut but Darling doing darling things (eating issues, alcohol use, anxiety, depressive episode, etc.) Mentions of prescription medication. 

“Do you have any clothes?” Johnny asks, rubbing your shoulder softly. You nod and point to the bag that sits haphazardly on the chair. Simon rifles through it while Johnny works the towel in your hair, trying to get it as dry as possible. You sit still for him, unmoving, and it hurts when he remembers the way you were only two months when he washed your hair, giggling against him, relaxed and happy while he massaged his fingertips into your scalp, carefully making sure everything was rinsed from roots to ends.

Something rattles in Simon’s hands, and it draws your attention, your head whipping to where he’s got a bottle of pills in his hand, a full bottle, and Johnny smothers his grimace. Simon puts it back in your bag without saying anything, but the silence speaks for itself. You haven’t been taking your meds. 

“I’m sorry.” You lament, voice choked with tears, and Johnny pulls you into his chest, smoothing a hand over your hair. 

“Shhh. It’s alright, we know.” His heart breaks for you, for what he knows is going on in your head, for how you must feel. Abandoned. You felt abandoned by them. You felt like you were on the outside. You felt left behind.  He swallows the guilt, not allowing his own unsteady emotions to take over, instead choosing to finish with your hair and coaxing you out of your robe to get changed. 

“Are we…” you begin but trail off, and he holds the t shirt that Simon pulled from the bag towards you. “really going to get a new place?” you finish once your head pops through the hole, and he realizes it’s Simon’s t shirt. You were wearing his own when you answered the door, and he wonders how much of your bag is actually their clothing.

“Yes, darling.” Simon answers. “But first we need to get you home.” You stare at him kind of blankly, a little void-like, before you blink and nod slowly. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay? You’ll let us take you home?” Simon clarifies, because he needs it. Johnny knows, he needs to hear it, the permission, the allowance for what comes next. 

Control.

“Yes.” You whisper. Simon looks at him, and it’s all Johnny needs to understand. Stand down. Let me handle it. Lock step. Johnny nods. 

They get the hotel room together pretty quickly. You sit on the bed with your legs crossed the entire time, eyes burning a hole in the wall, vacancy still present there, unmoving until Simon prompts you, encourages you to stand, where Johnny hesitantly offers you his hand, to hold. Take it. Take it, please darling. Trust me. I’m here. I’m right here. 

You stare for a long moment, before you’re finally clutching onto him, letting his fingers intertwine with yours as he moves you towards the door. 

When the three of you get to the elevator, you falter. You step away from the both of them, letting go of Johnny’s hand, panic rising through you, your eyes darting between them and the elevator. 

“Darling.” Johnny tries to reach for you, but you step back. 

“I-“ you gasp, and then press your palm over your heart, like it aches, like you’re physically hurting. “I d-don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You sob, the sound tearing into Johnny, shredding him apart and he gapes at you, momentarily confused. No, no no. Come back to us. “I don’t- I don’t know.” Simon moves, fast, into your orbit, wide palm streaking across the dead air to hold onto you, pulling you into his chest while gripping your neck. Not hard, not enough to hurt, but enough to act as the fail-safe, the thing that they turn to sometimes when presented with no other choice. The shutdown button. It settles you easily, gently, and pulls you back into yourself in moments like these. “I’m sorry.” You blubber, while Simon walks you backwards, slowly, until you’re pressed against Johnny, and his arms come around you easily.

“Stay with us, darling. Stay here. With us.” He coaches you, trying to keep you present, keep you calm while kneads his fingers against your shoulder. He vaguely remembers the still cold, half drank beer that was sitting in the dresser in your room, and it clicks together a bit more, why you’re so upset in this moment, compared to the tired, subdued, near catatonic state you’ve been in for the last hour. Alcohol is a depressant. And for you, and others who struggle similarly, it can make or break you. It can leave you feeling anxious for days after over consuming, can make your heart hurt and your brain confused that much more easily when you’re vulnerable like this. Johnny knows this. “Love, look at me.” He taps your jaw while Simon shuffles your bag back onto his arm and presses the elevator button, all the while still rubbing your neck. You peek up at him, face still half burrowed in his chest, and he takes the opportunity to ask. “Were you drinking earlier?” 

“Yeah.” You whisper. “I’m so-“ 

“Don’t.” Simon soothes you. “Don’t apologize, darling. You’re okay. Everything’s alright now. We’re going to get you home, and get you into bed. Maybe something easy to eat if you feel up to it, okay?” 

“Okay.” You mumble. You keep yourself pressed into Johnny and he can’t help but soak it up, loving the feeling of you in his arms, safe, here, with him. Not gone. Not MIA. Here. 

You fall asleep in the car. Johnny holds you in the backseat, the entire time, and nobody speaks. Simon occasionally checks on him via the rearview mirror, and then reaches his hand behind the driver’s seat to squeeze Johnny’s knee. It’s a comfort, and Johnny just wants to fast forward until the three of you are together, at home, in bed. 

He wakes you when they pull into the parking garage, managing to rouse you enough to get you into the elevator, and by the time the doors are opening on their floor, you’re fully awake, your hands twisted together while you walk. He breathes deeper, breathes easier, when the front door opens, and he walks through, turning to coax you through the doorway with an outstretched hand and open palm, as Simon stands with every muscle tense, his eyes not blinking, not willing tear his gaze away from where you linger, and he knows its because he is afraid you'll bolt. Johnny's not sure he could keep him from chasing you down at this point, and when he glances at him again, he sees how his body is thrumming with nervous energy, ready to break into a sprint at a split second’s notice.

Come on, love. Come inside. 

“Darling?”

#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john mactavish #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader

[empressdede]

Remember the time

This is my first time writing something and publicly publishing it. This is based off the Remember the time by Michael Jackson. Pleaseee show some love lol. I do want to say that the OC is a black character but anyone can read. I was inspired to write this because of @raya-hunter01 & @whatdoeseverybodywant Let me know what you guys think!

Pairing: Kiyah (OC) x Jimmy uso. (Theres not enough Jimmy Uso fics on here. I did it for my man.)

Warnings: cursing, smut, smoking, long read.

Bold italics are thoughts, italics are both dialogue during a smut scene and when anything is referenced. Red bold italics are the song lyrics

Word count: 9,581.

Summary: Jimmy comes back to New York after Money In The Bank and Remembers the time he had with Kiyah.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An uneasy feeling settled in Jimmy’s stomach ever since he found out that New York was the next arena after Money In The Bank. Being in the city was as the ghost of her was going to trailing over him. It’s been three months since he’s last seen her and he wasn’t healed but it was easier to be away from here. Being here reminded him of everything he used to love to do… with who he loved to do it with.

Do you remember, when we first met girl?

When Covid hit and the whole world was forced to stay quarantined at home, due to being in a really depressive state, Kiyah really isolated herself from everyone. She was in a funk that she desperately wanted to get rid of, and in late 2020 when her favorite cousin Bianca, called her to inform that she was going to be in Tampa, FL for work until further notice, Bianca invited Kiyah to stay with her and Tez. Kiyah packed her bags and caught the first available flight to Florida, leaving her life behind in New York. She attended all the smackdown shows with Bianca, watching how she was really dominating in the women division as a newbie.

Backstage if she wasn’t hanging out with Bianca, she was hanging out with Dawkins and Tez. The wrestlers were actually pretty funny to be around, the girls were nicer than she thought they would be - Well, except for a couple who didn’t really matter - and the guys were funny to be around. She would walk around the halls aimlessly when it became too much to be around and one day, she found herself bumping into Jimmy…. literally.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Kiyah quickly apologized to the person, her eyes slitting up to fixate her gaze on the man she bumped into. His smile took her breath away, damn who was he?

“You good, it was my fault I wasn’t looking where I was going. You okay?” He asked.

Kiyah nodded her head, not trusting her voice at the moment. She knew she would embarrass herself if she stayed in this man’s presence any longer. Clearing her throat, she tries to excuse herself. “Well, I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait…. Are you a new hire? I’ve never seen you before?” Jimmy asked before she could walk away.

“No, I’m Bianca’s cousin. Just here to give my support while I can.” Kiyah replied and Jimmy nodded his head understanding.

“That’s lit. Well, I hope you’re feeling welcomed. I know being around a whole bunch of athletes can be intimidating.”

She let out a small huff of laughter. “Please. You guys eat more junk food than anyone I know. Wings and Pizza every other Wednesday… Really?” She asked teasingly which caused Jimmy to laugh.

“Aye, we work hard. Gotta enjoy ourselves somehow.”

“I bet.”

Jimmy flashed another smile to her, who was this girl? “I never caught your name?” He asked.

“I never gave it. Seeing as you bumped into me, I think it’s only right you introduce yourself first.” Kiyah suggested.

“Could’ve sworn we bumped into each other.”

Kiyah shrugged her shoulders playfully, a small smile eased its way into her face. “I never denied that but enlighten me anyways.”

Jimmy chuckled, raising his hand out to her, “My name is Jimmy, and you are?”

Kiyah reached her hand out to clasp their hands together and shook it. “Kiyah. Kiyah Blair.” She introduced.

Do you remember when we fell in love?

“How long is it going to take you to come over here?” Kiyah asked over the FaceTime call as she continued to clean her room, folding the laundry on her bed. Her best friend Jimmy glanced at the screen to watch her for a quick second before turning his attention back to the road.

“It won’t take me too long, I just gotta make a stop somewhere before I come. Make sure you leave that door unlocked for me; you know I don’t like to wait.” Jimmy instructed.

Kiyah smacked her teeth, dropping the shirt she was folding on the bed and turned to face the screen. “Boy, how you gone tell me what to do with my own shit? Imagine trynna run my house.”

“Imagine playing with my face like you not finna leave the door unlocked for me anyways, know who to play with Kiyah.” Jimmy retorted back to her, not even turning to look at the screen.

And maybe she shouldn’t have thought it but as she continued to stare at her who she considered her best friend drive, she focused on the featured on his face and bit her lip because why did he have to be so damn fine?

After realizing a couple seconds of seconds of silence filled the air, Kiyah smacked her teeth again. “Okay Jimmy whatever. Just hurry up, it’s your turn to cook and I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lemme go make this quick stop and Imma be over there.” He stated before he quickly hung up the phone.

Kiyah let out a small huff and let herself scan the room before her eyes caught the mirror. Should I change? She thought about it but opted against it, he’d already seen her outfit over FaceTime, so there was no point. Deciding to distract herself from overthinking, she picked up the shirt she had dropped and started folding again to clear her bed. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jimmy walked into the house with his hands full of treats, dropping them on the table. Kiyah walked out the kitchen and her eyes immediately met his, locking eyes with him.

“You just gonna stand there or you gone tell me wassup?” He asked, raising his eyebrow at her with a small grin on his face. Kiyah rolled her eyes before walking to him and they took each other into a strong embrace, rocking back and forth.

“Does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” She asked teasingly

“You know I can’t stay mad at you Ma.”

Kiyah’s heart seized at his words, pulling back from the hug, the bags on the table catching her attention making a smile etch its way on her face.

“No way you went to India’s Grill halfway across town, aren’t you on a diet right now? Jey’s gonna have that ass if he finds out you cheating again.”

Jimmy let his head fall as a dramatic groan slipped through his lips. “Jey not gonna know shit if you don’t tell ‘em nothing.”

Jimmy walked passed her to make his way to her living room, walking around as if he paid the bills to her home. He sat down on her couch, placing his feet on her coffee table and one hand behind his head. “You gone snitch on me Ma? After everything we been through?”

Kiyah shook her head as if she was disagreeing but in reality, she was trying to get herself together. Here was Jimmy: in an all black hoodie, no shirt underneath, cuban link peeking through the part that was unzipped, black joggers and all white forces. Fuuucckk, who told him to look this good.

“Now you know I don’t be telling nobody yo damn business” she finally replied as she walked to the door to lock it. Jimmy took that time to roam over the outfit Kiyah seemed to have on.

Itty bitty tight ass spaghetti strap crop top with matching booty shorts to go with it.

“You was expecting someone else to come before me?” He asked, catching her gaze.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know you ain’t wearing that for David lame ass.”

Kiyah rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time. Jimmy never liked anyone she called herself entertaining, always calling them lame, but she couldn’t be too mad… she kept that same energy with all his other bitches too.

“Please be so serious right now. I wore this for myself.” Kiyah stated, walking to the couch to take her seat next to him. Jimmy let his feet fall from the coffee table, opting to be in his most comfortable position, man spreading. He cut his eyes at her as he rubbed his beard.

“Hmm, for yourself huh?”

“Yes, for myself.”

Licking his lips, he slowly nodded his head in amusement. He pulls a blunt of his pocket and pats his other side for a lighter. “Can you light me up? I think I forgot my lighter in the car.”

Kiyah reached forward for the ashtray that was right next to him on the couch, grabbing the lighter that was settled there from the last time they smoked together. Jimmy raised his arms, wrapping it tight around her body and moved her so that her legs was over his lap making her straddle him.

From that action alone, she knew he was already high. She watched as he placed the blunt in-between his lips and looked up at her waiting for her to light him up. Kiyah squeezed her legs against his and felt her heart clench at the eye contact. She bit her lip, flickering the lighter and leaning back slightly to avoid the smoke to get in her face when she lit him up.

A small smirk formed on his face when he felt her squeeze him, but he said nothing, taking a hit of his blunt instead. “Whatchu nervous for?” He asked, voice low now, blowing the white cloud of smoke towards her teasingly.

“Jimmy…. please stop playing with me.”

“Who said I was playing?” He asked raising an eyebrow, waiting for her response and when she stayed silent, he just chuckled. “Closed mouths don’t get fed you know?”

Kiyah ignored him, taking the blunt from his mouth and placing it in hers; inhaling the strong substance for the courage that she was going to need for this conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jimmy let his hands start to caress her legs, rubbing them up and down. His brown orbs roaming over her outfit once again, his eyes catching her hardening nipple through her thin ass shirt. “Don’t wear this shit for nobody else, you hear me?”

“Jimmy-” She starts to protest but he cut her off.

“You hear me Kiyah? Don’t wear this shit for nobody else. I’m not playing with you.”

You could cut the tension with a knife, but she didn’t understand how they got here so fast. His hands trailed up, gripping on her ass to push her closer to him making her pussy press against his dick. Kiyah takes a small sharp breath in, one of her hands moving to rest on his shoulders as she locked eyes with him.

A small smirk took over her face now, “who said I was playing?” she replied, placing the blunt back in her mouth to take one last pull. When she leaned back to blow the smoke away from him, his right hand swiftly cupped her jaw, bringing her closer to him parting his lips to inhale the smoke she needed to exhale.

Kiyah’s felt her skin heat up as she shotgun her last hit to him. Her heart felt as if it were to beat out of her chest. Jimmy and her played the game of push and pull. They flirted with each other and got super touchy but that was all that ever happened. They’ve kissed once at a Christmas party, a year ago and they were both drunk off their asses. And even then, nothing compared to the feeling that tonight gave them.

“Jimmy.” Kiyah whispered and Jimmy let his gaze flicker from her lips to her eyes.

“Say it.” Jimmy demanded in a low tone. The octave of his voice dropped so low; Kiyah felt goosebumps form on her skin from just his voice alone. Say it. He said as if he knew what was going through her head.

“Say what?”

“Say it Kiyah…. We both grown. Just say it.”

A million things ran through her mind. Surely, he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying. Because they’re just friends; always have been… right?

“Jimmy… I-“ she started but was stuck. She tried to push herself from him, she needed space. She couldn’t think being so close to him. Not with his hands on her, or his smell overwhelming her. But his hands held her in place.

“Jimmy, we’re friends-“ she was cut off.

“We ain’t no fuckin’ friends and we haven’t been just friends for a while now.”

“Jimmy that’s not funny” she whispered shaking her head. This has to be a joke, and I’m not laughing. “Whatever joke you’re playing at- “

“I like you Kiyah. No jokes, no pranks no tests. Sober or high it’s all the same. I like you.” Jimmy stated wrapping both arms around her body to lock her in an embrace, he shifted to get comfortable and that caused him to grind against her making a small whimper leave her mouth.

“Say it.” He whispered this time, but she refused. Instead, she leaned forward pushing their lips together to lock their lips in a kiss.

Do you remember, back in the fall. We’d be together all day long.

The phone buzzing consistently was the only thing Kiyah could hear from her sleep. She lets out an annoyed groan. who the hell is calling at this time? She raised from the bed to grab her phone, and answered it without looking at the caller I.D.

“What.” She answered.

“Damn Ma, that’s how you greet me after 3 days of phone tag?” Jimmy’s voice was heard through the phone. And even though it caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach, she was tired.

“Baby… I’m tired. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.” Kiyah admitted.

“That’s cause you swear you can’t sleep unless it's on top of me.” He jokingly replies and she lets out a small laugh.

“You’re so warm and cuddly, I feel safe enough with you to go to sleep.” She shyly confesses. “I can’t wait to see you next week.”

“Girl when you see me next week, ain’t finna be no sleeping.”

“Aht Aht, Lemme sleep baby. You know I be sleepy.”

“Well take yo sleepy ass to the door. I had Roman deliver something expensive and I just got the message that it’s outside.”

Kiyah smacked her teeth. “What I tell you about buying me expensive gifts? I just be wanting your love.”

“You my princess, you know I gotta spoil you. Now go open the door and tell Daddy you love him for the gift."

Kiyah slides off the bed to trudge towards the front door. Jimmy has gotten into the habit of buying Kiyah gifts once she starts feeling lonely because he’s unable to be there for work. Last month he had bought her tickets to see her favorite singer, Justin Bieber. She always told him the gifts were unnecessary, but he was stubborn, swore he just wanted to drown her in gifts just to see her smile.

Kiyah slowly opens the door, to be met with Jimmy and his contagious smile which caused her to yell and jump on him. Wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist and she let the tears that she didn’t know were going to fall…fall. Jimmy caught her with one hand around her waist and walked into the house, kicking the door shut with his foot.

“I thought you were coming next week.” She asked tearfully, keeping her face in his neck and tightening her grip on him as if she couldn’t believe he was here.

“I know when you need me. Two nights ago you said you had a horrible night so I came running.”

Kiyah pulled her face back from his neck and placed multiple pecks on his lips. “Thank you, Papa.” She whispered and he chuckled, pecking her lips one more time.

“You know I got you.” He replied, setting down his bag on the floor and walked towards the bedroom. “Now let’s get you some sleep. I know before this you was tossing and turning.” He stated knowingly and Kiyah knew she wasn’t going to fall asleep just yet. Not when her heart was racing with him making his presence known.

“Are you hungry? I made some honey glazed chicken and rice earlier; I can get you some.” She offered, but Jimmy laid her on the mattress, kicking his shoes off and slid in right beside her.

“How bout we just relax. You know you tired, stop fighting yo sleep and lay down.” And it wasn’t a suggestion. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it blindly behind him, grabbing kiyah and pull her on top of him and wrapped one arm around her and his other hand grasping her leg to move it up so it was over his waist. “When we wake up later, it’ll be just us and you can feed me all you want.”

Kiyah presses a kiss to his chest where his heart was located. “I love you.” She whispered before settling herself on him, cheek pressed against his chest as she closed her eyes to try to fall asleep.

“I love you too Mama.” He murmured softly, rubbing the hand that was behind her back to help her fall asleep.

___________________________________________

When Kiyah woke up, it was due to the slight heavy movement on top of her. Her body felt rejuvenated from the almost 10 hours of sleep she had seemed to have gotten. Lifting her hand to rub her eyes to wipe the sleep from her eyes before she slowly opened them, looking down to see that Jimmy flipped their positions, his head positioned on top of her breasts and his arm sprawled across her stomach.

She blinked a few more times to make sure she wasn’t tripping, but sure enough the events of last night flooded her mind and it reminded her that she wasn’t just imagining the scene that took place in front of her. Kiyah absentmindedly raised her hand to rub the arm that was laying across her stomach. Even though he was here just for the night, she can smell already smell his scent overpowering her space. Dark. Earthy. Cedar wood. The heat emanating from him brought comfort to her.

I could wake up like this for the rest of my life. She thought to herself. The light coming from the Windows showed that it wasn’t too early in the morning, if she had to guess it was around 10 in the morning. Shutting her eyes, she took in the moment of him being home. There were days when she would try to self-sabotage her blessings and push Jimmy as far away from her as she could, but he always fought for her. Always. For these past three years it’s been Jimmy and Kiyah, never just Jimmy and never Just Kiyah. It made her very appreciative of him being in her life. She’s never been loved the way Jimmy loved her, and it scared her because she loved just as hard as he did… maybe even more so.

While she continued to trail her hand against his skin, Kiyah was slowly falling back asleep in this solace of her bedroom. She felt Jimmy shift from her chest to nestle his face in her neck to get more comfortable and they both drifted back to sleep.

Another hour went by before a loud ringing blared throughout the room, jolting her awake. Jimmy let out a tired groan, tightening his grip around her.

“Jimmy.” She whispered. He shook his head refusing to wake up, just to answer the phone.

He lazily moved his arm from across her to grab his phone from his back pocket and handed it to her. “Put it on silent mode and go back to sleep.”

Kiyah softly chuckled, taking his phone and placing it on silent mode. “I’m up baby. I know you’re jet lagged so I’m going to let you sleep.” Jimmy let out another groan when Kiyah tried to slide out of the bed.

“C’mon baby. Just stay for a little bit.” He begged.

“I gotta pee. I’ll be back.” She comprises and he smack his lips letting her go.

——————————————————————————

The soft tune of Nothing can come between us by Sade was heard throughout the kitchen and Kiyah bumped her head softly to the beat and sang as softly as she could while whisking the the eggs she was preparing.

“In the middle of the madness, when the time is running out and you’re left alone. All I want is you to know that… it’s strong still can’t pull us apart. Nothing can come, nothing can come, nothing can come between us.” Kiyah softly sang, moving her hips to the melody of the music.

The knock on her door was loud, making her head snap up to look towards the door. Jimmy quickly came from around the corner where her room was, heading towards it.

“Don’t move, Imma answer it.” He said unlocking and opening the door revealing Bianca. “Wassup B.” He greeted, stepping to the side to let her in.

Bianca was shocked to see Jimmy at her cousin’s house. She took notice that he had not only made himself comfortable enough to answer the door but that he was wearing the same same clothes he left the airport in. So, this was the business he had to take care of in New York? She thought to herself before flashing him a knowing smile. “Hey Jimmy – I see you’re here early.” She teased as she stepped in and walked pass him.

He just chuckled and shook his head, closing the door back and locking it. “Yeah I Had a couple things to take care of.”

Bianca watched Jimmy walk away, eyes following him until he disappeared into the room. With amusement shining in her eyes, her head snapped towards the kitchen and Kiyah was standing there smiling; looking all innocent when she was clearly guilty.

“Hey Bianca, I totally forgot we had plans today. How you doing?”

Bianca raised her eyebrow at her and a smiled etched its way on her face again. “Well good morning to you. It smells so good in this bitch. Anyways – are you gonna spill the tea or what? Cause it looks like Jimmy ‘he’s just my best friend’ Uso spent the night and now you up making him breakfast when we had plans to go to brunch.” She asked, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

Kiyah snorted and turned back around to pour the eggs in the nonstick skillet. “You’re so damn nosey.”

“I’m even nosier when I’m realizing he went to your room instead of the guest room.” Bianca replied.

Kiyah shrugged her shoulders as a response, scrambling the eggs in front of her. She thought about how these past four months has changed the dynamic between her and Jimmy after his confession in her living room. The transition from friend to lover was easier than she thought it would’ve been.

“Baby.” Jimmy called out, walking out the room with a hoodie and some shoes. “I’m finna be back real quick.” He said as he entered the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Kiyah asked, turning her head to look up at him.

“I’m out of gars so I’m finna hit up the closest gas station. Imma call Jey back since he been blowing my shit up. I know you guys haven’t seen each other in a while so I want y’all to catch up.”

“But I’m making breakfast for you.” Kiyah acknowledges, sliding the skillet off the stove top.

Jimmy chuckles, pressing his chest against her back. He places his hands on her waist as he watches over her what she made. French toast on two sets of plates on one side of the stove and the freshly scrambled eggs being served next to it.

“Make B something to eat and I’ll be back so we can eat okay.” He suggests, turning her around to wrap his arms around her waist fully, hand gripping on her ass as he leans down to softly peck her lips twice.

“Alright. Hurry back, okay?” She asks, keeping her voice low, raising her hands to caress his arms. “I don’t want your food to be cold and nasty when you eat it.”

“I’ll be right back I promise.” Jimmy pecks her lip one last time before pulling himself away from her to walk out the kitchen. “See you later B.” He calls out as exits the house.

The entire time, Bianca had sat in her seat shocked to her core. She watched the interaction closely, taking notes left and right and her tea cup was damn near full at this point. She waited for the door to fully shut before scoffing in disbelief. “Bitch since when do y’all kiss now? Since when the hell did y’all start calling each other baby? What in the world have I missed?” She yelled dramatically, throwing her hands up in the air to emphasize her point.

“Giirrrrllllluuuuhhhhh” Kiyah dragged out, chuckling. “Back in October Jimmy admitted his feelings for me.” She finally confessed, the smile on her face widening as she remembered that night.

“OCTOBER OF LAST YEAR!? BITCH ITS MARCH.” Bianca screamed; eyes so wide it would’ve fell out of her socket if it could’ve.

Kiyah shrugged her shoulder “The titles changed but nothing’s really different, that’s why I never cared to say anything. We’re still the same.”

“Yeah, except now you are getting Jimmy schlong every other night.” Bianca exclaimed.

Kiyah rolled her eyes, “Girl please, I wish. But we have kept it private but not a secret ya know? That’s my man for real and I’m so in love with him, it’s kinda sick.”

“I think it’s cute. A couple years ago you were scared to even put your heart on the line and now look at you.” Bianca really felt her heart swell with joy as she watched her cousin obviously head over heels in love with Jimmy Uso. “I’m happy for you- the both of you, truly.”

Kiyah turned the stove off and walked around the kitchen island to pull her cousin into an embrace. “Thank you B. I really appreciate it.” She stated and she meant it. There are few people who actually knew what went down between her and her ex, what she experienced and what made her so closed off after it; Bianca being one of those few people. It meant a lot to see that she was also able to see the growth when it came to her love life.

“And I love you girl, I really do but once Jimmy get back from smoking, I’m finna feed my man and spend my entire day with him. So about brunch…. Imma have to take a rain check.” She smiled at Bianca’s laugh.

“Alright bitch, I can read the room.”

———————————————————————

After Jimmy had returned from his trip, Kiyah had served breakfast. It brought a different kind of feeling watching him eat her food. In the furthest part of her mind, it made the moment more domestic, made her feel like one day -further down the line of course- that she could do this as his wife.

After breakfast, Jimmy insisted that he clean up the kitchen while she shower. What he really needed was the opportunity to distract her. Jimmy turned the volume up on Alexa, letting the sound of Neat by Q Money take over the silence in the house while he made his way to the coat closet where he had hid what he had returned to the house with.

Opening the coat closet, he pulls out a couple bags filled with what he wanted to do for the rest of day. Jimmy really wanted to treat Kiyah to a night out but he didn’t want to be out today, he just wanted to spend his day as lazily as he could where he found comfort the most. Closing the door, he took the bags and walked to the living room to get started on what he had planned; with Kiyah in the shower he knew he had a cool 45 minutes.

He unpacked everything that came in boxes: the air mattress, the LED tea light candles, the fairy lights, the fake rose petals and got to work with setting up the living room.

After setting up as fast as he could, he walked into her room, his eyes scanning the room looking for a suspiciously quiet Kiyah. “Babe.” He called out, walking towards the bathroom. He catches a glimpse of her doing her face routine, one of his old shirts engulfing her body. “Didn’t you say you never seen where this shirt went?” He asked teasingly as he walks up behind her.

“I have no idea what you talking about, this my shirt.” Kiyah replied, her lips twitched as she tried to fight the smile that wanted to imprint its way on her face.

Jimmy playfully rolled his eyes, “yeah whatever. You gone have to run me most of my shit sooner than later, unless you wanna send me back on the road with nothing to wear.”

Kiyah scoffed, keeping her eyes in the mirror when she looked at him. “Keep playing. If you wanna be outside I can be outside too. “

“You can be outside, Ian worried about shit. I can fight.” Jimmy stated, shrugging his shoulders.

“You say that now, but we all know if I’m in another nigga arms you gone be sick.” Kiyah countered back turning to face him with a small smirk, “You know you love you some me.”

Jimmy watched her with amusement in his eyes, watch her stick her tongue out at him as childishly as she could before turning back to finish applying the clay mask that was in her hands. “Girl please, you damn near passed out when you thought I was entertaining Sasha. I ain’t the only one.” He exposed, laughing when Kiyah’s jaw dropped.

He pulled off his shirt, turning to turn the shower on. “Wanna wash my hair after I’m done with my shower?”

“Can I give you a face mask if I do?” She asked with hopeful eyes when she fully turned around to face him again. Jimmy let out a small chuckle, nodding his head, agreeing with whatever made her heart content at the moment.

Kiyah didn’t want to show how much she missed being around him, but she was finding it difficult to stay away from him. And it wasn’t like he made it easier for her. Like when Jimmy started his shower, she opted to leave the bathroom to finish getting dressed but, Jimmy requested her to stay to keep him company. Sitting on the toilet waiting for her mask to dry while he showered and they both conversed brought back that feeling she was feeling earlier. Domestic.

In her mind she knew it was too early to be thinking these kinds of thoughts but, she’s had feelings for him for two years now, and she couldn’t really remember when she last felt like this. Doesn’t remember the last time anyone ever made her feel so secure.

After washing his hair and keeping his hair wrapped in a towel for it to dry, Kiyah prepared everything she needed to get started on his face. “Just sit still because if you laugh it’s gonna crack.” She warned, and Jimmy smacked his lips.

“This like yo third warning.”

“Because you play too much, I couldn’t even get you to cleanse your face without you playing with the water. Now sit.” She demanded, hands pressing against his shoulders to force him to sit on the toilet so she can apply the mask. He moved freely, letting her push him to sit.

Jimmy let himself relax, closing his eyes and let Kiyah go to work. He didn’t really care for the process of what came with what Kiyah swore was the best skin routine for both him and her. He just wanted to be close to her, the last time they seen each other was almost three weeks ago – almost a month – and he just wanted to be away from the white noise and relish in the quiet refuge that was her home.

Kiyah delicately stroked the brush filled with the clay over his skin as they both fell into a comfortable silence. Nobody else but you by Trey Songz softly playing in the background from the Alexa that was outside and Jimmy couldn’t help but find himself agreeing with the song that seemed to set the mood. He really didn’t want nothing but to be here, with her, didn’t want nobody else but Kiyah.

Jimmy pulled Kiyah closer to him, using his legs to part her legs so that both legs her on each side of his. His hand gripped her waist as he pulled her to take a on his lap. There we go, Jimmy thought once she was seated, fully wrapping his arms around her.

Kiyah continued to apply the mask, the smile she fought to keep off her face grew anyway. It was moments like this where she felt like the luckiest woman in the world. She found someone who was on her just as bad as she was on them. Before she met him, she never thought she would ever meet someone like her, someone who wanted to be around her, touch her, almost all the time. And maybe their time apart played a big role in their affection with each other but Kiyah wouldn’t trade this, wouldn’t trade him, for nothing.

Watching him fully relax under his touch made her heart swell with joy, smiling she leaned down to peck his lips which caused him to open his eyes and softly smile at her. “What you up to?” He playfully asked and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Nothing, I love you.”

“I love you too mama.” He replied without missing a beat, searching her eyes as she stared at him. He leaned up to steal another kiss from her.”How long all this gone take?”

Kiyah placed down everything in her hands on the sink beside her when she finished covering his face with the mask. “We wait 15 minutes for it to dry and then you’re done.”

Jimmy nodded his head, letting his hands start to rub against her legs. “Jey been complaining about how he never see me anymore.” He randomly stated and Kiyah chuckled.

“I don’t blame him, I bet he miss his twin. You guys hung out every time you were off.” Kiyah responded back, letting her hands rub against his chest. “You know you can go to ATL and spend the time with him down there. You know I don’t mind.”

Jimmy let out a small hum, but going to ATL to spend time with his brother wasn’t the problem. It was him wanting to take her with him so that everyone in his life could finally see who’s been taking all of his time. “Would you come with me?” He asked quietly.

“I would go anywhere with you.” She answered and she meant it. Jimmy could ask her to go anywhere and she would go, he was home to her.

Jimmy didn’t signify an answer to her response. He just let his hands trail up from her waist caressing her skin.

“Jimmy.” Her tone came off as her warning him not to start anything.

“Next weekend, He’s throwing a barbecue and our family will be there.” He said, ignoring her warning. “Will you come with me?” He asked.

Kiyah felt her heartbeat pick up. Will you come meet my family? That’s essentially what he is asking her. Yes, she’s already met his brother and yes, she already met Roman – when she spent her time at the Thunderdome arena and they wanted to get to know each other better it required her being around his family. This invite though… it really sounded like will you come meet my parents?

“You want me to meet your mom?” Kiyah asked in a whisper, leaning her body closer to him for a comfort she’s sure they both needed. “You want me to fix your plate in front of everybody to let ‘em know you my man?” She asked playfully.

It eased the nervousness out him, he chuckled and leaned forward to peck her lips. “I wanna show you off to the whole world. I know we ain’t tell nobody yet but I want to. Tell our families anyways.” He answered back to her, shrugging a little.

“I kissed you in front of Bianca on purpose. Wanna show all of ‘em I only want you to fix my plate.” He replied jokingly. His tone softened though as he spoke, his hands trailing up her shirt, rubbing up and down against her back. “I know you ain’t used to the family introductions and all that, but if we’re doing firsts – I wanna experience all of that with you.” He confessed.

Kiyah didn’t reply, she just watched him. Taking in the moment. Here they were, in each others arms, Jimmy’s hair wrapped up in a towel, Clay mask drying on his face while he confessed that he didn’t want to keep their romance a secret from the people who mattered most in their lives.

Could I be any more in love with him? “I’ll meet your parents papa, you can tell the whole world how we locked in, clocked in for the long run.” Despite telling Jimmy not to move his face as much, she couldn’t help but lean in to lock their lips together. Wrapping her arms around his neck as Jimmy deepen the kiss. Kiyah pulled away before they got too carried away.

“Hold on.” She whispered. She reached over on the counter to grab the rag she had placed on the counter. She dipped it in the bowl that had warm water in it now and moved to clean up what she started.

She cleaned his face as gently as she could, throwing the rag in the sink for now and unwrapping the towel from his head. Kiyah was killing two birds with one stone. She took pride in taking care of Jimmy, and this gave her the chance to do so but she was also trying to speed up the process of getting him in her room.

Jimmy let his hands move from her back to her stomach, trailing slowly towards her breasts before he gripped them; fingers tweaking at her nipples.

Kiyah let out a small moan, letting her head fall back from the pleasure. Jimmy leaned up started placing butterfly kisses upon her neck, locating her sweet spot immediately and closing his mouth to suck on it.

“Fucckk.” Kiyah moaned out, bucking her hips against his. Jimmy’s hands, continued to tweak and pull at her nipples before he let one hand slid down to rub against her covered clit.

“This what you was looking for right?” He asked huskily in her ear. Kiyah felt herself shiver at his tone.

Jimmy pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it through her panties, feeling it get soaked with her essence. His other hand left her breast to wrap around her neck. “Look at me, this what you wanted right?” He repeated.

Kiyah forced herself to lock eyes with Jimmy. “Yes” she breathed out as an answer.

Jimmy pulled her in by her neck to kiss her once again. Locking their lips in a passionate kiss, Kiyah bucked her hips against his hand to cause more friction.

He pushed her panties to the side to push two fingers inside of her, groaning into her mouth at how tight and wet she felt. Kiyah let out a gasp when she felt the sudden intrusion, throwing her head back again. Jimmy’s fingers thrusted in and out of her in a slow place causing her to rock her hips against his hands.

“Look at you.” Jimmy cooed as he picked up the pace of his fingers, curling it to touch her g-spot.

“Fuck Daddy, you finna make me cum.” She cried out, eyes rolled to the back of her head. She kept clenching herself around his fingers but he was relentless… he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her.

“Look at me.” He demanded and Kiyah couldn’t bring herself to it, moans slipping out her mouth uncontrollably as she felt a tightening feeling in her stomach.

Jimmy cupped her jaw, forcing her to lift her head and lock eyes. “I want the last thing you see before you cum is me.” He told her, he wanted to watch her love faces as she reached her climax.

“Jimmy please.” She pleaded.

She watched as his darkened eyes as he felt her clench against his fingers again. “Watch me make you cum.” He whispered, picking up the pace of his fingers. “That’s it baby, cum for daddy.”

Kiyah’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and her mouth dropped open as she let out a drawn moan, body shaking as she let herself go cumming all over his fingers. Whimpering as he slowed down to help her ride out her orgasm.

Once she was able to collect herself, he slowly pulled his fingers out of her, flashing her a smile. “You so sexy.”

She just searched his eyes, did this man really have the audacity to smile innocently at her like he didn’t just snatch her up?

He stared at her while he placed both fingers in his mouth, sucking her juices off his fingers. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth and leaned down to kiss her, sliding his tongue in her mouth so she could taste herself.

When he felt her try to deepen the kiss, Jimmy pulled back. “Come outside, I got something I wanna show you.”

It took some convincing to get Kiyah to move from the bathroom to go outside. Kiyah just wanted to jump his bones but he really wanted to show her what he originally had planned for the both of them for the day. And even though it took some convincing, his efforts were not in vain because once she say the living room set up she felt her eyes water.

“Jimmy” she breathed out, her breath hitching in her throat as she took everything in. Jimmy smiled at her reaction, he knew it wasn’t much but he was glad it made her happy. She wrapped her hands around his neck to hug him. She was grateful. “Let me show you how thankful I am daddy.” She whispered in his ear.

Do you remember, those special times? They’ll just go on and on in the back of my mind

Jimmy knew ever since he arrived to ATL that this was where he was going to be. Kiyah really showed out for him, and he wanted nothing more than to push her dress up and bury his face in her pussy. She’s been giving for these past couple of days, and last night on the way to ATL he fell asleep on the flight and woke up to his dick in her throat an hour into the flight and assured him that he didn’t have to do anything in return. I just wanna please you. She had stated in a sultry whisper.

She took him out on a date this morning, insisting that she gets to spoil him as much as he spoils her. They went to waffle House for breakfast, and then went to the aquarium right after. She’s been showing the fuck out in Jimmy… He was going to show her his gratitude, no matter where they were at. After he seen her interaction with his family, how his mother fell in love with her almost immediately and how she stayed in the kitchen to help prep the food, even if she didn’t know what was being made… yeah. He knew he was going to be here.

In between her legs with his arms locked around her thighs and his tongue buried inside of her. Kiyah kept her back in a deep arch, eyes rolled to the back of her head with her mouth gaped open but no sound came from her. He had her in a guest bathroom in his brothers house, and she really didn’t want to get caught.

“Fuck, Jimmy.” Kiyah hissed, making him groan against her and wiggle his tongue inside of her, sliding it out of her to swirl it around her pussy to lap up all of her juices. He licked all the way to her clit, sucking on while grazing his tongue against it.

“Daddy” She moaned out, looking down to watch him devour her, moving her hips to grind her pussy against his tongue. Jimmy flattened his tongue against her clit when he felt her moving her hips, letting her do some of the work. His eyes moving to stare at her and winked on their eyes locked.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Daddy you finna make me cum.” And at that warning, he closed his mouth around her clit again and sucked. He let out a moan, the vibrations sending a euphoric sensation throughout her body. Jimmy tightened his grip on her thighs to keep her in place. Kiyah let out a moan, letting her head fall back as her stomach tightened. “I’m cumming.” She announced as she spilled all into his mouth, panting heavily. Her lower body shook as her orgasm washed through her and Jimmy made sure to catch every drop.

He raised to his feet, hand wrapping around her neck as he drew her in to smash their lips together to lock their lips in a slow sloppy kiss.

“Damn Papa.” She whispered against his lips as she tried to catch her breath and he smirked.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He told her, pulling his pants down so that she could free himself. Kiyah watched Jimmy stroke himself, precum leaking from the tip and she felt herself clench around nothing.

“There’s an entire party going on outside.” Kiyah whispered as if trying to get him to stop but Jimmy wasn’t hearing none of that.

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m boutta fuck you up for real.” He replied pulling her off the sink counter to face the mirror. “And you gone watch me do it.” He whispered huskily in her ear.

Kiyah barely had time to grip onto the sink counter before Jimmy pushed himself into her, curses left both of their mouths as he pushed until their was nothing to push left. Both of them to moan out at the feeling.

“Eyes on the mirror the whole time ma.” He whispered in her ear, causing Kiyah to shiver.

Jimmy stayed still for a second, being raw inside of Kiyah made him want to ruin her life, and if the circumstances were different he totally would’ve.

He placed both hands on her hips and pulling out and thrusting back inside of her, pushing just as deep as he went the first time, every time he slid back in her. Kiyah’s head flew back as moans poured from her mouth.

Jimmy watching her through the mirror, seeing how wreck she looked before he even really got started and an evil smirk spread across his face. One hand moved to grip on her breast, pulling it out of the dress and his other hand found its way to her neck. “What I tell you princess?”

“I-“ Kiyah gasped out, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as he fucked her harder and harder. Her manicured hand moved up to grip onto the wrist of the hand that was wrapped around her neck. It was as if Jimmy was fucking her like he was angry.

“Yesss baby, just like that.” She moaned out.

Watching her love faces always did something to him, he swiftly moved to the left a little to hit her g spot causing Kiyah to let out a loud moan. Jimmy dropped the breast that he was holding and raised his hand to clap it against her mouth. “You know you’re supposed to be quiet, but here you are trynna let the whole world know how much you love this dick.”

His words caused Kiyah to clench around around him tightly, squeezing her eyes shut. Jimmy chuckled deeply. “C’mon Mama, let Daddy in so I can fuck you up.”

He continued to poke at her spot over and over again, making Kiyah moan loudly into his hands. He forced her head back up to face the mirror so she could watch. Tears ran down her face at the intense feeling of him fucking the shit out of her. “You look so pretty like this.” He cooed.

He sped up and only stopped a few couple strokes to really press himself against her spot. “Open ya mouth for me Mama.” He demanded.

Kiyah immediately let her mouth drop open, he stuck two fingers in her mouth. “Suck it.”

Kiyah closed her mouth back around his fingers, humming in pleasure when she mimicked her actions from earlier. She sucked his fingers, her tongue twirling against them and sucked hard. Jimmy felt his dick twitch inside of her, he would ruin her right here and be content with that.

“Keep yo eyes on the mirror, and if they move, I’m not gone let you cum.” He warned. Kiyah felt her body shiver, keeping her eyes on his through the mirror.

Jimmy pulled his fingers out of her mouth and placed them on her clit, rubbing them quickly as he started picking his thrust back up.

The motive to be discreet flew out the window, Kiyah moaning loudly, gripping the counter until her knuckled turned white. “You finna make me cum again.” She cried out.

Jimmy let go of her neck to grip on her braids to make sure her heads positioned the way he wanted it to be. He could feel her walls clench and unclench around him. “That’s a good girl, look at you take all of it.”

“Please don’t stop, I’m right there baby. Oh my fuck.” She cried as he fucked her harder. “Don’t stop daddy, please don’t stop, you’re gonna make me cum.” She begged, watching more tears fall her eyes.

Jimmy let out a grunt, “Daddy gone make that pretty pussy cum every single time.” He affirmed, rubbing her clit in circles. “Gimme that shit baby.” And Kiyah’s upper body stilled as her lower body shook, releasing herself all over him squirting a little.

“Yesssss” She hissed out and Jimmy had to pull out as quickly as he could, nutting on ass.

Wrapping his arms around her, Jimmy let himself drop his weight on her a little.

“Fuck.” He groaned out, pressing a kiss against the back of her neck. “You keep spoiling me like that Ma and I swear Imma keep you cummin’ like that every single time.” He promised.

And Girl, No matter what was said

“Kiyah I just didn’t wanna be rude to her. You know that with my status.” Jimmy argued

“And Jimmy, all that shit was cool when we were friends. But to do that shit in front of my face? Are you fucking serious? Then the bitch gone have the audacity to laugh at me like she did something.”

“Kiyah.” He started but she cut him off.

"No. You keep giving these bitches a reason to laugh at me like I’m some goofy bitch all cause you wanna be so damn friendly." Kiyah stressed

"Being friendly comes with the job Kiyah! Damn, every time I come in this bitch, you in my ear stressing me the fuck out don’t nobody wanna hear that. Can you at least appreciate that I even come in? I don’t gotta be here Kiyah.” He snapped and she nodded her head at him.

“You know what Jimmy? Since you don’t gotta be here, just stop showing up. Since I stress you out so fucking much, forget I even said anything. I’m sick of this shit, I’m done. You definitely don’t gotta worry about me no more.” Kiyah retorted back.

It was supposed to be a good night for the two, they were both leaving the arena when they bumped into a couple fans who just wanted some pictures. It was fine until it wasn’t. What he thought was being friendly was borderline flirting to these girls, they’d take whatever he’d give them and run a mile with. It was fine until he thought it was okay to let the fan touch for way longer than what was appropriate.

“You’re too damn insecure Kiyah when the fuck you gone wake up and realize that? That’s the reason why these other dudes treated you like trash, and you got so much damn baggage that nobody wants to deal with!” Jimmy snapped but the second he said it, he regretted it.

Kiyah froze, his words ringing in her head. Baggage. She had too much baggage.

“Kiyah I didn’t mean that.” He whispered but she sent a watery smile in his direction.

“You know what? Don’t worry about it, from now on you won’t have to worry about me or my baggage.”

And she turned around and left. Jimmy felt his heart break as she walked but his stubbornness is what kept her from chasing her. Unbeknownst to him, that would be the last time he seen her.

I will never forget what we had, my baby.

All the memories of his time in New York came back to him as he drove to the garden arena. He remembered when told him her feelings drunk off her ass after the Christmas party.

He remembers, her home made cooking every time he visited or any time she visited him. He remembers taking care of her when she caught covid.

She was a crying mess when her test came back positive. She did what she did best and isolate herself away from people. Pushing Jimmy away and booked her own hotel so that she wouldn’t pass it on to Bianca and Tez. And at first Jimmy thought she only isolated from him, but when Tez came and asked if he’d heard from Kiyah, he realized she was isolating herself from everyone.

He remembers asking Bianca if she knew what hotel Kiyah had checked into and he remembers bribing the concierge to tell him what her room number was. He remembers pushing himself through the hotel door when she tried to shut the door in his face.

“Jimmy I’m sick, I have covid.” She stressed, moving away from him as fast as she could.

“Kiyah” He whispered when he took in the scene in front of him. She was hurting and she didn’t want to tell anybody.

“You have to get out!”

“Kiyah, I haven’t heard from you in damn near three weeks. What’s going on?” He asked, concern laced in his voice

“I’m sick; that’s what’s going on. Now if you could please leave, I don’t want you to get sick.”

"No. Kiyah you need to stop pushing people away because you’re scared to show people the ugly side of you.”

He remembers Kiyah crying in his arms that night because she finally felt like someone cared for her.

He remembers the first time he told her ‘I love you’. She cried, and told him she was scared to say it back because every time she did, it was for nothing. And He never rushed her to say it back.

He remembers her confessing her love back to him not even a week later because she really couldn’t hold it in. She’s been feeling him for a long time and she refused to keep her feelings to herself any longer. Jimmy remembers everything, and boy did it hurt to.

Do you remember (I bet you remember)

An uneasy feeling settled in Jimmy’s stomach ever since he found out that New York was the next arena after Money In The Bank. Being in the city was as the ghost of her was going to trailing over him. It’s been three months since he’s last seen her and he wasn’t healed but it was easier to be away from here. Being here reminded him of everything he used to love to do… with who he loved to do it with.

Jimmy let out a sigh as he sat in the bloodline locker room. Even though they were split, They requested to still share the same locker room. It’s quiet, he’s not telling any jokes and he’s getting tired of the worried look’s being shared between his brothers.

“Uce, I’m fine. It’s just one night. It won’t kill me.” Jimmy huffed out and Jey shrugged.

“I wanna believe you Uce, but you been walking around like a sad puppy ever since we landed. Why don’t you just call her?” Jey suggested and Solo nodded, agreeing with his older brother.

“She told me I wouldn’t hear from her again and she meant that shit.” Jimmy sighed. “I can’t just pop up ya know? I wanna respect her and her space.”

Before Jey could reply, a knock was heard on the door. The silence after the knock is what had them confused. Solo moved to answer the door but Jimmy raised his hand to stop him. They didn’t know who that was. The knocking happened again.

“Who is it?” Jey called out and the voice that answered back made Jimmy’s blood run cold.

“It’s me.” Kiyah’s voice was heard through the door.

Jimmy stood up slowly and walked towards the door and he held his breath as he opened the door. “Kiyah.” He breathed out and she flashed a small smile towards him.

“Hi.”

#jimmy uso #jimmy uso x reader #wwe #black reader #the bloodline #solo sikoa #jey uso

[commander-rahrah]

Talking to the Moon: Part II

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~6900 (haha.. whoops again) Warnings: suggestive, swearing, PTSD, trauma, past/implied abuse, fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, death, blood drinking, combat

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here

Summary: Set in Act II (pre-Moonrise Towers), Astarion and Tav/Reader wake up in the Last Light Inn after he makes amends. Astarion begins to realize what he is feeling for Tav/Reader is different then anything he has every felt before, and it is a continuous internal battle for him in more ways than one.

Notes: This is still a GN!Reader/Tav in second perspective with no names or y/n. The backstory established in chapter 1 still continues — Reader/Tav is Selûne blessed; noble with only a few specific appearance descriptors used (silver hair/star like freckles). This update is a combination of like 3 little daily headcannon dreams I had while playing the game the first time, and I felt like they all flowed so well together to create what would be a series of moments for Astarion to realize he was indeed falling for Tav before his confession scene that happens after Moonrise towers!

I hope to write more for this specific pairing, as I want to add even more to the confession scene from Astarion. And also the resolution for Reader and Shadowheart. I know how it all ends in my head, but I am loving writing it out and sharing with you all! ♡♡♡

P.S.: I keep slipping little Shadowheart x Karlach moments in... because I love the idea of them being together. But you can take it however you want to LOL.

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Astarion blinked awake, slowly, peacefully. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. He usually bolted awake on instinct after finishing his trance.

But this morning he was greeted by a comfortable silence. Stretching his neck, he smiled as he took in your still sleeping form — hair tousled with sleep. One hand clutching your pillow while the other rested near his own, outstretched. Had you held his hand as you were sleeping? He couldn’t recall once he had fallen into his trance.

As if sensing him looking at you, your eyes fluttered open before your lips curved softly at the sight of him.

It made his half-dead heart flutter.

“You talk in your sleep.” You mumbled with a voice still hoarse and drowsy.

“I do? What did I say?” A knot formed in his stomach as he thought of the possibilities — the damning things he could have said.

“It was mostly muttering. You weren’t very coherent… but you sounded afraid. So I…” You flexed your fingers next to his own hand before trailing off.

You had reached out to comfort him whilst he slept. He swallowed as he looked at both of your hands still stretched out to the middle. Before he pulled it back, intertwining it with his other one laying on chest. “Apologies. I’ve never had a bed partner before… You must have slept terribly.”

“No, not at all. I haven’t sleep this well in months actually.” You said as you stretched your arms over your head, starting to sit up on the soft mattress.

Astarion agreed silently in his head. Not that he would admit it so freely out loud.

The pair of you sat in silence for a moment, your bodies still slightly laid across the mattress as you tried to will yourselves to start the day. Occasionally, he could feel you glance over to him. After mustering up some courage, he looked over at you with his red eyes round and vulnerable.

You studied the features of his face for a moment, before your eyebrows crinkled. “You must be starving. You haven’t fed.”

“No… but I’ll be fine. I’m sure some evil cultist will pull a sword on us and I will get to shred their throat.” He let out his nervous laugh, but the burning in his throat was uncomfortable.

“Astarion. You need but ask—“

“I can’t — I couldn’t.” Not after how he had acted last night. The shame that had ripped through him still lingered, his skin turning hot again as he remembered.

Then you were closing the empty space between, shuffling on your knees across the mattress as you got closer to him. “You need it to survive, you can’t help it that you’re—“

“A monster?” His lips curled, before he flashed his face away from you.

Your voice was quiet, laced with an ache he couldn’t understand. “I don’t think you’re a monster. Have I made you feel like one?”

He thought of your face that fateful night when you learned what he truly was. Surprise had flickered across your face, but never fear or hatred. You had quickly turned the tables as you were then calming him down. As if you hadn’t just woken up to him looming over you, fangs bared like a wild animal.

You hadn’t treated him any differently at all. Perhaps you asked a few curious questions and graced him with some teasing with that sharp tongue of yours. But you had believed him and accepted him as he was. Trusted him.

He wanted to hate you for it. For not seeing him as a wild, dangerous creature. For not just treating him like every other person did when they realized what he truly was.

It would be easier — to hate you.

But he couldn’t. He would never.

“No. You haven’t.”

“Astarion,” You grabbed onto his wrist delicately, your touch featherlight and a bit hesitant. “Feed.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

“I do.” You laid back out onto the bed, stretching out your neck for him. He swallowed, already eyeing your pulse point that was beckoning him closer.

His throat bobbed up and down as he pushed his blankets aside and eliminated the lingering space left between you. His fingertips brushed over the puncture wounds that lingered on your neck now — he had committed to always feeding from the same spot, so to avoid further marking your perfect form. His fingers trailed up your jawline, your cheekbones and into your hairline. “You’re too good to me,” He murmured into your skin, pressing a soft kiss on your neck. Surprised by his own intimacy, he pulled back to look you in the eye. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, fisting the sheet you laid on in preparation.

Astarion moved his body half over yours and sunk his teeth in, piercing through the soft flesh until your hot blood rushed into his mouth. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him as the sweet taste flooded all of his senses.

But he had become better at it — not as frantic as his first time. Not as desperate. One of his hands lingered in your hair, the other wrapping around your waist carefully as he pulled himself closer into you. The thin fabric of your nightclothes let him feel your warm, soft skin beneath.

The thundering of your heart was echoing in his ears and down into his own chest. But your shallow breaths were acting as a timer. He needed to stay aware of you, to not push you or your body too far. He became increasingly aware of your hands tightening in the sheets and toes curling as you let out a whimper. Both pain and pleasure intermixed.

He realized that so often while he had fed from you, the lines got blurred. Lately, you both had been buried deep in each other whilst he was sucking and lapping at your neck — bringing you both into bliss for very different reasons. And though those moments with you did bring him into euphoria, something no one else’s touch or body had done in a century, it still brought that familiar tremble. A single thought that spoiled the high and made him wish he could peel off his skin.

He didn’t want to cross that line today, not if he didn’t have to.

With a gasp, he pulled away from your neck. He lingered close to it for a moment, breathing in your scent once more before licking at the punctures to stop any lingering blood from pooling out. Sitting back up, his tongue went over his lips and teeth cleaning up the red stains. “Are you alright?”

Your voice was a gentle whisper, purposefully calm to reassure him. “Yes. Are you?”

“Feeling better already.” He wiped at the corners of his mouth carefully, before asking, “Do you need — would you like me to make you feel better?”

“It’s nothing that my amulet and a strong cup of tea won’t fix.” You gripped the edge of the bed as you sat up, fingers already clasping at the golden amulet glittering off of your neck — it glowed slightly at your touch. The colour slowly returned to your cheeks, and the open puncture marks closed — leaving behind the purple-red bruises from his mouth and small scars from his fangs.

“Right. But I got mine… do you want yours too?” His pale fingers swirled nervously on his own knee.

“Astarion, this isn’t transactional.” You said with a shake of your head.

No, that couldn’t be. Everything had a cost, everything was an exchange. He knew that, he lived by that.

“What?” A bewildering look crossed his face, his head cocked to the side. He was sure he hadn’t heard you right.

But you said firmly, “I don’t expect anything in return. Not ever.”

“Then why in the heavens do you let me do this!?” He asked exasperatedly, his voice a little louder than he intended.

You took a large breath before staring back into his eyes, your stare and voice unwavering. “Because I care about you. And you told me heartbreaking stories of how you spent years eating rats and bugs. Being tortured and cut into. I may not ever truly know what you went through Astarion… but I understand. So every moment that I spend with you, I want to show you the opposite.”

“Someone will take advantage of that you know. Take advantage of you —that goodness you insist on.” Your blood in his stomach turned sour, as he knew that someone was him.

“I know. They have and they will. But I will not change my mind on this. And despite what you think or expect, I will not treat you like a monster or a thing. You are a person, albeit a complicated one, but aren’t we all.”

He blinked at your sudden outburst, mouth open slightly as his mind scrambled for some witty response, some quick line. But he failed too as you continued your admission.

“I wish you could see yourself how I see you. Not just the drawings I gave to you when you told me you wished to see your reflection…,” Those charcoal drawings of his face were carefully tucked into the pages of a leather book in his pack. His most prized possession. “One day, when you are ready to hear it I will tell you.”

Astarion remained silent. He was gobsmacked, his eyes wide. He felt like he was still processing, his mind sputtering and his heart thundering from your confessions. You cared for him? You understood him? And there was more to hear? Whenever he was ready… whatever that meant.

The only attachment he had planned for was your bodies intertwining in a false passion. Not that it had been very fake as of late… But everything else.

Astarion was suddenly very out of his element.

“Have a left you speechless, my dear? Maybe I should make unprompted speeches more often.” You smirked, though your face flushed a brilliant shade. He had been silent for too long, so you had tried to make things light and airy.

He slipped back into his usual cadence as his face broke into a grin, a dark chuckle escaping him. “So vicious, darling. Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.”

He prayed he wasn’t.

• • •

It was a hard few days in the Shadowlands, searching for a way to break the curse and edging ever closer to Moonrise Towers.

It was brutal here, punishing. Each turn more dangerous than the next.

There were no animals for him to feed on, so Astarion sheepishly continued to accept your offers. And there was no exchange as you promised, except quiet gratitude from him and an even more quiet understanding from you.

It was bewildering and mystifying. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why you would choose to do that for him.

He could understand you jumping to the aid and rescue of the Tiefling children, helpless animals, the young couples desperately in love. They were good, they were pure.

But he was none of those things. He was wretched and broken. He craved violence and vengeance. His touch was a curse for you both. And he had used you, manipulated you. And maybe you knew it.

Yet you were still there.

And the cursed lands kept reminding him of that.

Everywhere they looked he seemed to find pairs. Engraved wedding rings enchanted to protect the other. Skeleton couples laid next to each other in their final moments. Like the pair that died on the rooftop, their boney fingers still intertwined. The handwritten poems cataloging the love they held for each other sat next to them, like they had whispered it to each other before their last breaths. 

You had found the poems first, a soft look on your face as you read it to the group — your tender voice breaking as you neared the end of the last poem, their final declaration of love even in death. Astarion had to look away as you finished it, his half-dead heart thumping in his chest as he heard you speak the proclamation. He wouldn't allow his mind to even start to imagine you saying such things to him. 

Lae’zel’s huffs broke the moment, demanding they get a move on and head back to camp already. The group blinked back to reality, before turning on their heels to go.

You walked ahead of him as the group began to backtrack to camp, tucking the book of poems into your pack with a gentle touch.

Astarion’s thoughts had been consumed by you for sometime now. For longer then he had realized. Perhaps from the moment he met you. He sometimes wondered what about you had kept him so captivated. Why he picked you to feed on, or to be the unsuspecting member of his plan.

He could have picked Wyll — he was noble and honorable, prone to jump into the thick of things to save an innocent or a friend. Loyal to a fault. And he was quite handsome too. Like the princes he dreamed to marry when he was a boy.

But no, it was you he was drawn to. His little moon.

He had realized that he ached for something he had never known, and had never before believed truly existed — that it was only invented to be seen in plays or read in prose and poetry. But now he longed for it with you.

When he was cursed to this life of a bloodsucking monster, of a vampire, he quickly realized that he would always feel hungry. That he could have his fill of blood and still be starving. He could drain this merry party dry and still feel that prick in his throat and pang in his belly.

What he didn’t realize was that the curse Cazador bestowed to him was so much more. Not just an endless bloodlust, not just waking nightmares and endless torment. But that he could long and ache for companionship, attachment, love. But that he would never take it for himself. That he would always be both starving and empty.

Because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Not after the things he’d done, in this life and his old one. Not after what he had become. He didn’t deserve you — someone so good that a literal goddess had blessed you with their power. Someone whose voice turned gentle as their fingers trailed lines of poetry. Someone who would offer themselves up to a monster, just to make them feel whole again.

You deserved someone bright and unbroken. Who could give and receive touch as freely as breathing air. Who knew that true companionship wasn't some fantasy invented for the arts, that love was more then sex and flattery. Who could one day also lay beside you, willing to accept what fate becomes them and turn to bone. Not a half-dead creature like him.

He knew he would cease his foolish plan. He couldn’t use you as bait nor a shield, not anymore. You deserved better than that. What that meant for him… he wasn’t sure.

Perhaps he should confess to his plan too. As a final way to make you understand what a manipulative bastard he truly was. To push you away. It would hurt less than to confess what his heart wished for, but his mind knew he could never have.

The path the group was walking along was overgrown with thorns and vines. A specific darkness plagued the route, and it was barely dulled from the magical glow of the party’s several spells and enchantments. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, his red eyes darting around them — searching.

It happened in an instant — the shadows silent and invisible until it was too late. The creatures appeared with a sudden flash, long curling claws slashing into your side — catching you unawares. Your shout of pain alerted the rest of the party, everyone drawing their weapons quickly.

Astarion went to the enchanted daggers at his side, hurling them through the air with easy precision as they found their target. They boomeranged back to him, sliding into his waiting palms. He had gotten rid of one, but there were way more than usual. Wherever they had stumbled into, it was not good.

“Shit!” Karlach swore loudly as more shadows appeared after the ones they downed. Continuing to converge around you, drawn to your huffs of pain and blood. Your blood, the scent that was usually so sweet in his nose but now had dropped an anchor in his stomach. There was too much of it, much too fast.

“Watch out!” Wyll shouted in warning to the vampire, before sending several of his powerful red blasts soaring out of his hands.

With a glance to his side, the rogue twirled around Lae’zel’s strong, cleaving swing with ease before releasing his daggers once again at the creatures advancing on you. But he threw them a moment too late — their clawed strikes sinking deep into you before the magical daggers ripped through them and back into his hands.

The sound of your knees crashing into paved stones made Astarion's teeth chatter. His heart lurched into his throat, your name choking out of him as he screamed. He had never moved so fast — it almost seemed like he had blinked across the battlefield like Gale so often did.

“RAHHHHH!” The booming roar of Karlach echoed in his ears as she raged from seeing you fall. The rest of the party converging on the remaining shadow creatures attempting to surround your unconscious body, moving in sync with each other with a deadly precision.

Knowing that those creatures were being taken care off, Astarion fell to his knees next to you — his pale hands grabbing onto your shoulders. “Sweetheart, wake up.”

You didn’t stir, your head and limbs shaking loosely as he moved you. He dragged your head onto his lap, before unbuckling the holster on his belt. He tipped the the precious red liquid from the healing potion between your lips. He said your name, running his thumb across your face.

You didn’t stir.

“Darling?”

His red eyes studied you, your face looking lack luster and eyes remaining closed. Your hands laying limply at your side, unmoving. He couldn’t hear the familiar thrum of your heart.

No, no, no, no.

“Astarion?!” Gale shouted, his voice exhausted and strained as he split his concentration just enough to check on you two.

The world tilted as the wizard instead shouted for you. But you couldn’t respond... because you were —

“You can’t die, dammit!”

Suddenly, you were all bathed in a golden light for a moment as Shadowheart brought down a thunderous strike of radiant energy, defeating the remaining shadow creatures as they shrieked in pain. Then the sound of thudding metal and footsteps as the party surged forward to you, panting for breath.

Wyll’s eyes went wide with worry as he saw you unmoving, his hand covering his mouth,“ Are they—?”

Astarion looked up at his party with bleary eyes, his hands trembling as he held your face on his lap. “They won’t wake up. I tried, I gave them a potion and they—“

“Oh gods.” The Blade choked out, his face immediately crumpling.

Gale shook his head, immediately dumping the contents of his side satchel onto the dirt. Scrambling through them, “No, no, we can do more! I’ll have a scroll or, or — Shadowheart!!”

The cleric had remained in the back, her face half covered in shadow. Her nostrils flared as she looked down at you. But she made no move forward.

Astarion’s red eyes pierced through her, before narrowing, “Bring them back.”

She didn’t move, her face blank. “My goddess will not allow it.”

“Princess! What are you talking about?” Karlach tried to grab her hand, but Shadowheart pulled away. “It’s Giggles!

Her black braid swayed back and forth as she shook her head, taking one step back. “She is Shar’s enemy. She is my enemy.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your goddess.” The vampire spat, his lips curling, “Bring. Them. Back.”

“I—" A moment of hesitation as her voice shook and her eyebrows furrowed.

Gale let out a shaky breath, his fingers pushing back his long hair. His brown eyes were shining with fear. “I have no scroll, I—“

“We are running out of time!” Lae’zel finally spoke out, glaring at Shadowheart. “Do something now, istik.”

Astarion voice was deadly, his fangs baring as he shout out. “If you don’t do this. If you let them die— I will hunt you down and become your worst nightmare. I will fucking haunt you! BRING. THEM. BACK.”

“Shadowheart, please.” Karlach whispered, finally getting ahold of the half-elf’s hand.

Conflict flickered across her face, before she stepped forward. She crouched next to you, bowing her head as her hands began to glow with golden light. Her small hands rested on your unmoving chest, before the light disappeared into you.

A loud gasp escaped you as come back to life. Your hands finding purchase in the dirt as your eyes snapped open wide with fear and uncertainty.

Astarion let out a loud breath, tipping his head back with a silent thank you to anything that was listening.

The sigh of relief echoed throughout the entire party. Minus the dark haired cleric, who stood up quietly. Her throat bobbed as a hard to read look crossed her face and she backed away.

“I— what, what happened?” You asked groggily, your eyebrows meeting in the middle from confusion.

“You scared us Giggles.” Karlach sniffed, “Thought we’d lost you for a second there…”

“I… I was gone?” You craned your neck, looking up at Astarion, alarm etching every feature of your face.

He opened his mouth, but no words could come out. Fear and panic still held a tight grasp around his throat.

“For but a moment.” Gale stepped forward, his voice practiced but reassuring. “Shadowheart brought you back.”

Your bottom lip wobbled as you fought instant tears, before you croaked out, “Thank you.”

A quiet grunt is all you got in reply from her.

You sat up gingerly, Astarion grabbing your elbow to steady you. Your blood and the strange ichor from the shadowy creatures was clingy to your clothes. You were shivering — a combination of the cold and from the knowledge that just mere moments ago you had been dead. The vampire had undone the clasp of his cloak and was wrapping it around you before you could say no.

“I think it’s best we head to camp. We will take the paths we know.” Gale spoke up first, gathering the contents of his satchel that he had spilled across the ground.

Karlach took your pack from you, slinging it across her back with ease. “Fangs, help me get them up.”

He rushed to his feet, gently pulling you up with him. You swayed for a moment, but your fingers tightly found his forearm to keep you steady. “Thank you,” You breathed.

Him and Karlach slowed their pace to match your weak steps as you walked between their sides, both of their arms wrapped around your waist. Gale was leading the way with Wyll at his side, his staff a shining beacon as the two kept their heads on a constant swivel. Lae’zel brought up the rear, her sword remained out as her eyes narrowed on the huddled form of Shadowheart. The cleric’s arms were hugging herself as she kept her eyes on her boots.

Astarion couldn’t help but count your heartbeats, the rhythm now steady and thumping like normal. He needed to recommit the sound to memory. If only to drown out the reoccurring one of hearing it stop.

• • •

You were much quieter than usual, the lute you would strum by the campfire abandoned. Your eyes were blank as you stared into the flames, licking and dancing across the logs. You were miles away, your half-full dinner plate forgotten at your feet and now licked clean by the camp dog and owlbear.

Shadowheart and Karlach had almost immediately retired to the latter’s tent — still in there now, speaking in hushed whispers that even Astarion’s elven ears could not pick up. Lae’zel was sitting on her perpetual watch, her sword balanced across her knee as she polished it. Wyll sat closest to the fire, using the warm light to inspect a map of Moonrise Towers you had found today — making marks and notes, strategizing the best way to rescue the lost Tieflings and his father. Gale was dutifully at your side, sharing the log bench and reading quietly — his mage hand holding the book up for him and turning the pages.

Astarion watched from a far, sitting at his own tent. He was not interested in feigning conversation. But he wasn’t interested in his own activities either — the book he had open on his lap had been on the same page since he first sat down. Instead, he was watching you carefully.

The scene from earlier in the day was repeating in his mind, he couldn’t shut it out. Not just the sound of your heart stopping, or the scent of your life blood draining out of you. But how you had clutched to him as you journeyed back to camp. That the trembling in your lip would stop when he looked over to give you reassurance.

You had slipped into a deep shock when you arrived in the familiar comforts of camp, almost instantly dissociating once you breached your group’s makeshift home. Gale had swooped in then, his mother-hen behavior taking over as he ordered you to change while he cooked.

So, the vampire had slipped away. Disappointed to no longer be needed. Wishing he too could dissociate or play healer or anything, something to just stop his racing thoughts and pained heart.

His pointed ears perked as you spoke.

“I’m going to go for a walk along the river.” You said suddenly, breaking the quiet that had been settled around the camp for hours. You braced your hands on your knees as you stood up from the bench.

“Do you need company?” Gale asked from your side, already starting to stand up to join you.

“I’m okay, just going to the dock… to collect my thoughts.” You didn’t notice the hurt in the wizard’s eyes as you rejected him. No, your eyes were searching around the camp, looking for something. Someone.

They settled on Astarion.

He raised a single white eyebrow, your eyes never straying from his. A silent invitation, maybe? To join you on the dock.

You gave the smallest indication, a tilt of your head that anyone else would have missed. Then you were off, heading across the camp before turning toward the tree line closest to the river.

He waited for a moment, as to not make it obvious. Perhaps to spare Gale’s feelings, that you had silently asked him to go, and not the wizard.

“Off to get lucky?” Wyll asked as the vampire marched by.

“Wh—what?” He stuttered, steps faltering as he turned to look at his companion still sat on the dirt by the fire.

“Gonna try your luck with a hunt?” The warlock rephrased, looking up from his stacks of maps and parchment.

“Oh. Yes. That’s it, ‘hunting’.” He waved his hands and did a funny little bow, before turning on his heel. When had he become such a terrible liar?

With a practiced lazy grin, he bid the rest of his companions a quick farewell before following the trail into the tree line as you did.

The docks weren’t far from camp. A few minutes journey down a well-walked dirt path through the sparse woods led him to the quiet river.

You were already sat on the wooden dock, your boots half hazardously tossed behind you and your feet hanging in the water. Your head was tipped back, arms stretched behind you as you seemingly basked in the silence. Astarion made purposeful loud steps, causing the wood planks to creak. To announce himself, to avoid startling you.

You didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Instead you merely opened your mouth to speak, “Hello, Astarion.”

Oh, how he loved it when you said his name like that. Like you had been waiting for only him.

“Darling.” He drawled from behind, standing carefully next to you.

You turned your face so you were now looking up at him instead of the dark sky, “Thank you for knowing I wanted you here. I didn’t want to announce it.“

A smirk quirked his lips, “Good, I can still read you then.”

You looked at him quizzically, “Have you been having difficulty doing that lately?”

“You…, He cleared his throat, “You have been keeping me on my toes, yes.”

A cheeky smile spread across your face, your eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh, you must hate that.”

Yes, he did. He rolled his red eyes at you, “I certainly haven’t been bored since I met you.”

You both let out chuckles, before you patted the spot next to you on the dock. “Sit with me?”

He joined you, removing his own boots and rolling up his pants to sink his legs in the water. But then he paused, his pale feet hovering above the blue water. “What creatures lurk in this river, do we know?”

“Oh, don’t be a scaredy-cat.”

Astarion huffed before placing his feet in. He hissed from the cold temperature, but after a moment it felt refreshing on his tired and sore feet. A relaxed sigh escaped him, and his shoulders lowered slightly.

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. Then he kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, but was careful to not get caught. “How are you feeling?”

You blinked at the question. “I— I’m not sure how to answer that. Okay, I think. Are you?”

“You scared me today.” He admitted without thinking, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, your fingers kneading the flesh of your thighs.

“I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to… Just never do that again, ok? I know you did nothing wrong and you were just standing there but don’t ever put yourself in a situation like that again.”

Your brows met in the middle, your mouth turning into a frown. “The path we are on is a dangerous one, Astarion… I can’t—“

“No. Nothing can happen to you. I won’t allow it.” His voice cracked, so he swallowed some of the emotion down. “So stay at the back, behind me, I don’t know. But I will not witness what I did today again, you understand me?”

“Okay,” You submitted with a nod, “It’s all still very hazy for me…”

“It was terrifying. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that.” He chewed his inner lip, surprised at the confession that had just hurled out him.

A haggard breath left you, before you abruptly stood up. You started to fumble with the buckle of your pants, staring out into the river as you took it off and tossed it behind you.

He watched you with confusion, “What in the hells are you doing?”

“I want to, I don’t know, feel alive. I need to reset. I can’t get the feeling I had when I came back out of my chest.” Astarion knew that feeling, had felt that feeling. And it still resurfaced sometimes.

You peeled off your shirt next, then your trousers, the clothes falling in a small pile at your feet — until you were suddenly stark naked standing on the edge of the dock.

Astarion did his best to hide his awe at you, standing confidently above him — completely nude and bathed in the dim evening light. You stood there for a moment, your chest rising and falling as you took quick breaths. “Well?”

With a sudden leap you jumped into the water, a joyful yelp escaping you as you splashed into it.

“Have you gone mad?!” He asked after you, holding his hands up in defense of the cold water that splashed from your movements.

“Yes! Join me in my madness.” You said with a loud laugh, the musical sound ringing in his ears. You threw your head back, your bare chest exposed as you flopped backwards and began to float in the water.

He looked at you like you were demented. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Astarion, come in. There are no ghouls or creatures. It’s nice.”

He set his jaw, his words coming through his gritted teeth. “I can’t — I haven’t swam in two hundred years.”

“Oh.” You realized, before standing in the water to show him, “It’s like the baths we took near the grove. You can touch the bottom, I’ll help you.”

His red eyes couldn’t resist roaming your wet figure, backlit in the evening light in front of him. Then he snapped his eyes away, turning his nose up, “You’re intolerable.”

“You love it. Now get that stubborn, pale ass in here.”

The vampire huffed as he stood up, “Hmmph, it’s a good thing you’re pretty, you know. Or everyone would reconsider why they condone your behavior.”

You flashed him a smile, before turning around and dunking your head into the water — giving him privacy to undress.

The vampire slid off his clothes, carefully piling them next to yours before staring down into the dark blue water.

Fun. That’s what you were searching for. Just a moment, a thrill. It wasn’t a distraction like what he had tried to do in the Last Light Inn. It was.. an escape. He could do that for you. It was probably one of the few things he could afford you.

“Oh hells,” He hissed through his teeth before jumping in after you.

Even as a cold-blooded creature, the water was a shock to his whole system. He felt goosebumps cover all of his flesh, his muscles drawing taught from shock. But as he surfaced and saw the delight flickering in your eyes, he instantly warmed. “Are you happy now, you wretched little thing?”

You didn’t reply, instead grinning and nodding childishly.

“Good.” He smiled back, “Now, what?” His feet could indeed reach the bottom, he stood in it, the water gently moving over his shoulders and collarbones in the lazy current. It was nice, but foreign — a sensation he was still trying to grow used to after all this time.

You bit your lip and shrugged, beginning to swim in a slow circle around him. Before sending a large splash of water over him.

“My hair!” He cried out, before his eyes narrowed and settled on you. “You minx, you’ll pay for that.”

Another laugh escaped you as you tried to outmaneuver him, your wet arm slipping through his hand as he tried to grab you. So he instead launched a counter wave back at you, splashing water across the back of your head.

“Muahaha!” The vampire let out, his grin spreading across all of his features.

Your smile was contagious, addicting. He could feel strain on his face from his own smile as he laughed with you, the longest a genuine one had been plastered on his face for centuries. The two you played in the shallow river, splashing and shrieking like children. It was liberating, he had never felt more free. Not even the day when he had realized he hadn’t perished from the sun’s attention. This was somehow better.

His wet, pale hand caught your wrist as you went to slide past him in your game of chase. You swallowed slowly, your plump mouth hanging open slightly as he tugged your closer to him — drawing you nearer until you were face to face.

Your eyes were hooded, staring at his mouth. But not possessively, not with the hunger and objectification he was used to. But with longing? How long had you been looking at him like this?

He tilted his head forward, meeting you halfway as yours lips pressed into his carefully. A soft groan escaped you as you felt him kiss you back.

His pale fingers grabbed your naked waist, pulling you into him so your bodies were flush — your chest cold and hard from the water pressed into his own. His fingertips dug into your fleshy side as you deepened the kiss, opening your mouth to him. Your hands trailed up chest, your fingers tips playing with the sensitive skin on the nape of his neck and moving into his hair. Your touch gentle yet firm — it was maddening.

It had been sometime since you’d touched each other like this, but there was something different tonight. Arousal was flooding through him, his lower belly tightening and warming as he hardened against your thigh. Gods, did he want you right now. And not to perform, not his almost ritualistic routine for Cazador’s prey. He just wanted you, needed you for only himself.

As he felt you push into him more, a low moan escaped him.

But then he felt a familiar shiver travel up his spine, disgust — not at you, or him. But at the tainted act. Haunting memories of back alleys and side rooms flooded through him.

Gods dammit.

He had wanted this — to kiss you, to be with you. To indulge for just a moment in you, even though he knew he could never truly have you. A temporary bliss to sate his thoughts of you, his need for you.

Loathing burned through him for ruining the moment. So, instead he tensed his jaw, furrowing his eyebrows as he continued. He could persist, he insisted to himself as his hold on your waist tightened.

You two had barely kissed twice more before you pulled away, completely breathless. You caught your breath, before looking up into his eyes, “I don’t want to go any further tonight, I’m sorry.”

He froze, before his fingers immediately left your waist. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no! You’re wonderful. Just… a lot happened today, and I’m still overwhelmed I think. I hope you understand.”

He understood more than he could bare to say. “Of course.”

He’d never thought to just ask to stop. He never had the choice, the free will to. If he stopped he would have no prey for his master. Then he would be punished. And the punishment that Cazador would doll out for him was a much worse abuse then enduring the practiced torture he did with his victims. So he had just done it…

But you had asked. You had listened to yourself, and your wants and had stopped. You were vulnerable and honest in a moment of passion. You trusted him to listen.

You trusted him.

“And don’t apologize. Not for that.”

You pecked him on the cheek — your lips incredibly soft, it was only a puff of air across his skin. “We should probably head back — the others might be worried.”

He blinked back to reality, nodding along as different thoughts and memories flooded him. “The others, right.”

You both got dressed quietly, your clothes sticking to your damp skin and hair. You began to walk back towards the forest line, the dirt path leading back to camp looming in front of you.

Astarion glanced over at you, but blinked as he had realized he caught you staring at him. Your cheeks flushed brightly, before you ducked your head.

“Gale told me about what you did for me today.” You said quietly as you walked, your eyes fixed on the trail and hands twirling nervously at your side.

His steps slowed behind you, “Oh.”

You turned to face him, your eyes soft yet wide, “Shadowheart may have cast the spell. But you… you’re the reason why I’m here. Thank you for fighting for me.”

His heart thudded, as he felt an overwhelming urge to go to you. To hold you like he had in the river. His fingers twitched at his side as he instead swallowed and spoke, “Of course. You would have done the same.”

The sounds of the camp began to trickle down the trail, soft chatter by the fire could be heard from here. Surely meaning that any thing said between you now could also be overheard. You seemed to realize this as well as you turned back to him one last time.

“Astarion,” You called back. Every time you said his name, it was like a piece of him that he had long forgotten about came back to life. “I’m very glad I met you.”

He thought of all the moments that led to this one. Dying in that dirty, dark alley. Clawing his way out of his own grave. Two hundred years of misery, and begging, and torture. To the nautiloid and the god damn worm slithering in his head. And then to you — under him with his knife to your throat on the cliffside, flushed and dancing at the Tiefling party, sleeping soundly next to him in the inn. And to now, staring at him with your soft eyes and smile, your sweet laughs and touch still echoing in his ears and across his skin.

Maybe the gods had answered his calls after all — if he had been fated to meet you along.

“So am I,” He smiled back.

Continue to part III here!

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #bg3 fanfic #astarion/reader #astarion/tav

[whatsnewalycat]

Psychomanteum / Chapter 13

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 13: Lunacy Fringe

Chapter Summary: You and Dieter spend the day at the beach.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 9.2k+

Content / Warnings: alternating pov, grief, heart-to-heart, fluff, angst, smut, swearing, blood, cannabis use, cliffhanger, public sex, poverty mention, infertility mention near-death experiences, unprotected piv sex, ocean

Notes: Chapter title from “Lunacy Fringe” by The Used. Hmmmm let’s see. Idk if you know this, but I am employed now after like 16 months being a full-time student and SAHM, so I’m in a bit of an ~ adjustment ~ period and might take a bit longer to post things, but time will tell lol. This is a very soft chapter, I hope you like it. Let me know what ya think 🖤✨

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Despite your initial trepidation in doing the DIRT interview, and how disastrous it actually wound up being, Darlene reported to you and Dieter that public feedback has been generally positive. As all three of you expected, some of his fans have labeled you a gold digger, conwoman, or flavor of the week, but most find your story a sympathetic one and seem to be supportive. 

The news has saturated the past five days in a warmth and brightness you’ve never encountered before in your life. 

You and Dieter have been painting and writing and laughing and cooking and fucking and falling asleep tangled up in each other and waking up stuck together by sweat. Luxuriating in something neither of you could afford before: quality time. 

Today is no exception, with the two of you under the white down duvet tent, all glowing from morning sun pouring in through the skylight onto his bed.

It smells like him here, of course, but it also smells like you. Your scent has seeped into the threading of his sheets, commingling with his. Like you’ve claimed your spot here with him and now it’s something different, something shared and sacred. 

Meaning that it now smells like you, in the collective sense, and find any excuse to bask in it as long as you can. 

The pads of Dieter’s fingers trail along the shiny scar tissue that laces your leg, your hip, your arm. All those swaths of skin once split open, he traces them with reverence, his touch delicate and studious. Content to memorize you as long as you’ll let him. 

You count the gray hairs sprouting in his beard and at his temples. The wrinkles that crease his forehead and eyes. Signs of age you feel blessed to encounter. 

You think about how the two of you were rejected from the afterlife, from the omnipresent belonging, the sea of love, back into these vessels. 

“What was it like when you died?” you ask him, bringing your touch to that hairless heart-shaped spot at his jawline, “Like, what did you see?” 

“I, umm,” he clears the sleep from his throat, then says, “I remember feeling tired. So fucking tired. This crazy heavy fatigue took over, like—like someone put the world’s heaviest weighted blanket on me, and I tried to stay awake but I just fucking couldn’t. When I woke, I was floating above my body. Saw them all trying to revive me. Then it was like… I was sucked up into this tunnel.”

“The tunnel,” you grin, “That tunnel was fucking awesome.”

He chuckles, “It really was. It was like… I’ve never felt more at peace. Fucking wild,” he shakes his head and frowns, “I saw all these scenes from my life. Growing up, living in New York, getting my first real gig, moving to LA, all that. I got to that barrier, you know,” he glances at you and you nod knowingly. 

“I was right there, I touched it, and I knew that was it but I wasn’t scared. Then Annie shot the adrenaline, and I was getting sucked back, and,” his eyes flick to yours, softening to ganache, “And… I saw you.”

You blink, searching his face, shaking your head. 

“I—I saw you, Louella. I didn’t know who you were. But when I met you, I recognized you. I felt this,” he turns his wrist in a circle and twists his face up in this bewildered expression, “Connection. I don’t know. Like it was supposed to happen.” 

Then he looks at you, and his eyes are glassy and wide with this tender awe. Every cell in your body swells so fat and ripe with love, it’s a miracle you don’t burst like an overfilled water balloon. It hurts, how much you love him. 

“You never told me that," you manage to whisper, brushing your knuckles against his cheek. He gives you a sheepish shrug, and you drag your fingertip down the bridge of his nose, “Maybe it was supposed to happen.” 

Dieter plucks your hand from his face and interlaces his fingers with yours, then immediately pulls it back, pressing a slow, wet kiss into the blackwork apple tattooed on your wrist. He brings your palm to his cheek and holds it there, his eyelids fluttering, “What was it like for you?” 

“Well,” you set your thumb in motion against his skin, “I closed my eyes, and it was dark, then I opened them and saw the wreck. Paramedics were putting me on a stretcher, and there was so much blood I was… red. Like someone dropped me in paint or something.”

The phantom scent of iron sends a shiver up your spine. It took a week to rid your hair of that smell. In the hospital, you scraped under your nails and picked at the hollows of your ears for days before you stopped finding dried blood. 

Maybe it wasn’t days. Maybe it was hours, or minutes, you’re not sure. 

You just know that, for approximately an eternity, you discovered a small mountain of little rust-red flakes and wondered whose blood it was, knowing that even if it wasn’t his, it was. 

Dieter kisses your palm, pulling you back into the present. You blink a few times, take a deep breath, then continue. 

“Ethan was with me, and we were pulled behind the ambulance, like there was some kind of tether between me and my body, but somewhere along the way, he disappeared. That’s when I noticed...” 

You tilt your head and frown, watching your nails graze his whiskers while your mind tries to assemble a description that might make sense. 

“Above me, there was this light. Something inside me knew that’s where he went, so I followed him into the tunnel. I saw my life. When I was growing up in Ohio, my dad, my mom… the time I spent, um…” 

Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes flick to his, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I lived out of my car for a few years after I moved out, before I was accepted into CIA.”

“Really?” he searches your face, and when you nod, he rolls on his side, sliding his palm along the curve of your back, scooping you up to bring you closer. 

“Well, technically I was still homeless when I started going there, ‘til my classmate found out and insisted I move in with him,” you smirk, “That’s how Parker became my bestest friend.” 

“As always, a man after my own heart,” he murmurs and mimics the smirk on your lips. The tips of his fingers work up and down your spine in a soothing motion. 

You chuckle at this, then sigh, “Then, yeah, moving to the city, meeting Ethan. I got to the barrier and saw him cross. I could see inside it like a window. My grandparents, my dad, and Ethan—they were all there, but wouldn’t let me through. My dad told me I needed to go back, that I had more to do.”

A burning sensation climbs up your throat, settling behind your eyes, where tears start to form. You swallow the thick, raw feeling and shake your head. 

“I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think there was anything left for me if Ethan was gone, even though—” 

When you realize what you were about to say, a sob escapes you. Dieter kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and tightens his arms around you. You curl up against him, wriggling your head into that space between his collarbone and jaw. The heat of his body and your own recycled breath warms your face.

“Promise not to judge me for this?” you ask him in a hoarse whisper. 

He tucks your hair behind your ear, “I promise.” 

“Sometimes—you know, when things were really bad with him—sometimes I, um,” your voice breaks. You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears, take a shaky breath, then confess, “Sometimes I wished he would die.“

Self-loathing crackles in your chest. Each second that passes with no response only amplifies the feeling, and you can’t stop the wave of anxious thoughts from spilling out your lips, “It’s fucking horrible, I know it is, but he wasn’t the man I married anymore. He would leave for hours, sometimes days, without telling me where he was or who he was with, coming home all fucking strung out, reeking of booze and smoke and pussy, and—and if I asked, if I dared to fucking ask, he treated me like—like I was the fucking enemy or something—”

Another wet sob gurgles from deep in your chest. Dieter squeezes you tight, nuzzling against the crown of your head, thumb grazing your shoulder as he coos, “It’s ok, baby, it’s ok—”

“No, Dieter, it’s not fucking ok—I should have done something when I noticed it happening more and more, but I was so fucking angry with him for taking away my choice to have a family—”

He shifts to look down at you, asking, “What do you mean?”

Your heart jumps so high, it seems to get lodged in your throat for a moment. You  shake your head and swallow it down, then take a deep, wobbly breath, exhaling a sigh, “He, um… he cheated on me. Said it was a one time thing, he was all fucked up because it was the anniversary of his brother’s death—I—I don’t know. He didn’t tell me until months later when I got really sick out of nowhere and had to go to the Emergency Room. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me at first, but admitted me and started me on antibiotics because the symptoms pointed to an infection.” 

This big, blue boulder settles on your sternum and presses the air from your lungs. Dieter’s comforting touch starts again, swirling patterns into your shoulder, his arms cradling around you, lulling you into a sense of security, urging you onward. You relax into his warmth and clear your throat. 

“When the antibiotics worked, the doctors looked into my symptoms further. They ran a bunch of tests and eventually found that I had chlamydia. I told them it was impossible, the only person I was sexually active with was my husband—and, well… yeah. Anyway. Turns out he knew he had it, got treated, but couldn’t bring himself to tell me about it,” you shake your head and let out a sad chuckle, “Just, um, stopped fucking me. Let it fester inside me until it turned into pelvic inflammatory disease, which scarred my reproductive organs enough to make me infertile.” 

“Fuck,” he mutters, and his lips part like he’s going to say more, but his breath catches and they snap shut. When they open again, he says, “Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

You study him, “What were you going to say?” 

“What?” 

“Before you said you’re sorry, what were you going to say?” 

“I, uhh,” he pauses, and you hear the wet squelch of his gulp, “Nothing, it’s not important.”

You pull back to meet his eyes, finding them all red and glossy. An ache of affection radiates across your chest. You cup his cheeks and search his face, “Tell me.” 

“Just… that’s just a fucking terrible thing to do to someone you love,” he shakes his head, tears pooling in his eyes as he winces and looks away, “But—but my first thought was that I understand why, he umm, why—”

His face crumples. Tears blur your vision. You nod, showing you get what he’s trying to say. 

He sniffles, and his eyebrows draw together as he meets your gaze, “God, that’s fucked up, right? What the fuck does that say about me?” 

You take a moment to deliberate, wiping your eyes before telling him, “I think… the fact that you are able to recognize that in yourself, and know that it’s wrong, but tell me the truth anyway, is…” you lick your lips as you try to find the right words, deciding on, “Indicative of growth.“ 

Dieter chuckles. It’s a wet, forceful noise, like he couldn’t even help it from happening. He sniffles and presses his forehead to yours. His thumb scrapes against your damp cheek, “That is very diplomatic of you.” 

You smile despite the tears, then lean in to give him a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft. They linger on yours for a few moments, and when you pull away, you murmur, “I love you, Dieter.” 

“I love you, too,” he rumbles, brushing your face with the back of his hand, “So, you found that out in the hospital, and I’m assuming things got worse with him after that?” 

“Yeah,” you frown and nod, “Yeah, I mean, I iced him out pretty hard. It all went down right before COVID hit New York, you know, and we were stuck at home together… he’d run our orders, then lock himself away in his office. I’d hear him snorting and pacing in there for hours. Like a caged animal. He’d come out all fucking,” you make a sniff noise and mimic a facial tic, “Twitchy and withdrawn, which was totally not like him. But, I don’t know. I couldn’t bridge that gap and move past what happened enough to help him.” 

You sigh, flicking your gaze to his, “Do you remember what he was like?” 

“Yeah,” Dieter swallows, glancing behind you for a moment before returning to your eyes, “He was nice. Funny. Easy-going. I—I mean, I liked him. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Well, knowing what I know about him now, I feel… I don’t know, guilty, or something.” 

“Don’t,” you frown and shake your head, combing your fingers through his curls, “He was all of those things. He was so… good, you know? This thing would happen, I swear to fucking god it was like every time we went out,” you chuckle fondly, “He would strike up a conversation with a stranger and make friends with them. It was effortless. He was so magnetic. I always loved that about him. And it’s not like he was different behind closed doors or anything like that. Not at that point, anyway.” 

Your smile falters. Dieter tilts your chin up and kisses you. When he pulls back, you wriggle into his chest and close your eyes. 

“That’s what I mean, though, when I say he wasn’t the man I married. He became paranoid, unpredictable, erratic. There was this darkness about him that was so… hard to be around. I—I fucking hated him.” 

Your stomach drops, eyes blinking open. Before you can think twice, you tell Dieter, “That’s the last thing I said to him. ‘I fucking hate you.’” 

He draws a sharp breath, holds it for a moment, then says, “That’s not true, though. You talked to him last weekend, in the psychomanteum.” 

Your lips part to contradict him, but you realize he’s right. That dark, heavy feeling in your chest lifts enough for you to smile. Fresh tears prick your eyes, “I did, didn’t I?” 

“Fuck yeah you did,” he grins, craning his head to kiss your forehead, murmuring against your skin, “My sexy little ghostbuster.” 

You bury your face in his neck and laugh. His chest vibrates with a low chuckle. A serene silence settles under the white, glowing dome. Dieter releases a content sigh and traces the pomegranate on your shoulder, “Did you ever find out why?”

“Why what?” 

“Why he, umm—”

“Ah,” you nod, “Why he tried to kill us?”

“Yeah.” 

“No,” you furrow your brow, “When he dragged me out of bed that night, he kept asking me who I was working for, said it had to be NYPD or feds. He told me that someone was following him and he knew I was setting him up. I don’t know.”

You take one of his hands and interlace it with yours, cuddling them to your chest, “The first time we tried the psychomanteum, I was hoping he would be how he was before—I mean, obviously because I needed to know who he really was, if it was all a lie in the beginning, if I had just missed it… but I also wanted to ask if I should lay low. The more time that went on, though, with no red flags from police, the more I knew he was just… sick.” 

Dieter hums in acknowledgment. 

“I’m so glad we tried again. That I got to talk to him again,” you say, smirking when you add, “Thank you for helping me with my crazy ghost FaceTime.” 

He smiles, “Thank you for convincing me to try it. I’m glad I did.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he pauses and shifts a little, “James and I, in our heyday, we would write these scripts and screenplays and act them out. He did most of the writing, and I did the big parts, but I, you know, I liked… writing.” 

You pull back and tilt your head at him, a grin spreading across your face at his bashful demeanor, “Really?” 

He nods, a little bob wobbling his throat, “I’ve been thinking about giving that a shot. I have some ideas for scripts, but I’ve been so… reluctant, I guess, to put them to paper,” he shrugs, “When I talked to James, he told me I should try it again, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 

“I think he’s right,” you tell him, and press a kiss into the back of his hand. 

“I just keep thinking… What if it’s terrible? What if nobody likes it?” 

“Does it matter as long as you like it?”

His features shift into seriousness as he considers this. Brow furrowed and pinched in the middle. Corners of his mouth folded in a slight frown. Eyes downcast, studying your clasped hands as he flattens your palm over his heart. 

The soft, rhythmic thump-thump beats steady. You watch his eyelids flutter and his facial muscles slacken into a serene expression. This feeling comes over you that’s hard to explain. 

It surges from deep inside your chest and buzzes across your skin. 

There’s weight to it. Nothing you can’t handle, but still, the heaviness is apparent. You simultaneously feel responsible and completely exposed. Like you’re exchanging your most prized, most fragile possessions, under the silent condition that neither of you will break the other’s. 

You would be lying if you said it didn’t scare the shit out of you. You would also be lying if you said it didn’t bring you joy. 

He catches you staring and smiles, “What?” 

“Nothing,” you grin, “I just… I love you.” 

“Yeah?”

You nod, glancing down at his lips. 

He searches your face and murmurs, “I love you so much.” 

“So fucking much,” you confirm. 

Gravel crunches beneath your sandals as you trot down the steep path to the beach, splitting your attention between your clumsy footwork and the scenery. 

Clusters of purple flowers occasionally break up the tall, dry grass. Palm trees stretch high into the brilliant, cloudless sky. Beyond the white sand beach sits the Pacific Ocean, dark and alive. 

As you inhale deep and wide, letting your eyes shut as you relish the sulphuric, briny scent of the sea, your foot catches on a rock, and you stumble forward with a yelp, grabbing Dieter’s arm to keep you from falling. He only falters a little when you latch onto him, even though he’s outfitted like a pack mule, beach chairs strapped to his back, lugging a tote bag stuffed with towels and a cooler. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you wrap your hand around his bicep for support and shrug, “Just, y’know, being super attentive and graceful.” 

His muscles twitch under your grip, “Good thing you have such a big strong man to hang onto.” 

“Are you flexing?” 

“Pffff, no,” he scoffs, and this big, contagious smile spreads across his face. Gravel transitions into sand at the trail’s end, and he asks, “Alright, doll, where you wanna set up camp?” 

Your nose crinkles as you squint around the sparsely populated beach. There’s a section of shoreline far away from everyone else, and you point to it, “Right there! Avast ye!”

“Aye aye, captain!” 

His pirate voice is surprisingly on point. It makes you laugh. He grins at your amusement as the two of you trudge towards the spot. Sand kicks up inside your sandals, gritty and hot against your feet, and you grumble, “Fuck this, I can’t with the shoes.” 

You slow down to take them off, but Dieter stops you, “Wait wait wait—” 

“What?” 

“Think you can kick ‘em all the way there?”

You shrug, “Probably.” 

He sets the cooler down, takes a step back, and props his hands on his hips, looking between you and the vacant section of beach through his sunglasses, “Let’s see it.”

Rolling your eyes, you tease, “You are such a boy.” 

“Kick your shoes! Kick your shoes! Kick your—”

You wind up your right leg, then kick it forward, sending the sandal flying. 

“YEAAAAAAH!” 

It goes high, but not far, flopping on the ground a few strides ahead. 

“Ah, beans,” you say, “I thought that was outta here.” 

“See, your problem is,” Dieter drops the tote bag and shucks off the beach chairs strapped to his back. 

“Oh, you have a technique? A shoe kicking technique?” 

“Obviously,” he guffaws while tugging his joggers up his calves, “You gotta get your flippy all floppy on your toes, then kick it.” 

“I believe the technical term is loosey-goosey.”

“You’re absolutely right, my mistake,” he walks to your side and points to his foot, “See, watch this.”

He shakes his foot around until the sandal dangles off it, then winds up and launches it forward. It goes about four times further than yours, landing right where the two of you were headed. 

“BOOM! That’s a shoe kick.” 

“Nice,” you give him a high five. 

“Thanks,” he grins, “Now you try. Should we do this one together?” 

“Ok ok,” you balance on your right foot, wriggling your ankle around until the sandal slides down as far as it can. 

Dieter does the same, “Here we go, ready?”

“So fucking ready.” 

“One, two, three—”

Both of you rear back, then kick, and your sandals go whizzing through the air. Yours hits the ground first and skids across the sand, coming to rest a few feet from his first sandal, while Dieter’s flies so far it’s just a speck in the distance. 

“Holy shit!” you laugh, “That went so fucking far.” 

“And the crowd goes wild!” Dieter bellows, embellishing the statement with cheering noises as he runs a victory lap around you. 

You snort and shake your head, “Ok, now you’re gloating.” 

He continues the one man celebration as he returns to his abandoned cargo, then heaves the chairs back over his shoulders. You skip up to him and snatch the tote bag off the ground, even though he insisted on carrying everything, then take your place on his arm. 

Once the two of you arrive at the vacant stretch of beach, marked by two left sandals, Dieter sets everything up, unfolding the colorful canvas beach chairs on either side of the cooler while you strip down to your black string bikini. He digs in the pockets of his joggers and unloads most of their contents into the tote bag, save for a little tin of joints and a lighter, which he sets on the cooler.

Stretching out in the beach chair, you bury your toes in the hot sand and watch Dieter kick off his pants. He notices you noticing him and whistles at you, a flirty wheet-whew.

You grin, and when he reaches for the hem of his shirt, you catcall, “Take it off!” 

He does so dramatically, spinning the shirt over his head like a helicopter and flossing it between his legs before tossing it at you. 

“Oh my god,” you laugh when it smacks you in the face. The fabric is warm and reeks of him, which you kind of like, so you ball it up and stuff it behind your head like a pillow. 

With a groan, Dieter sits down and grabs the tin off the cooler, plugging a joint between his lips. He lights it and takes a few puffs, then relaxes back into the beach chair, passing the torch to you. 

You accept it and take two hits in quick succession, keeping the smoke hostage in your lungs. The rush of THC blurs your senses and elevates you to a pleasant altitude where worries slough off your brain. On the exhale, you hand it to Dieter and ask, “If you were a fish, what kind of fish do you think you’d be?” 

He just starts giggling as he plucks the joint from your fingertips and takes a drag.

You catch a few contagious giggles and tell him, “I think—I think I would be a, uhh… a pufferfish.” 

He furrows his brow and blows the smoke towards the ocean, then shakes his head, “A pufferfish?” 

“Yeah,” you take the joint from him, inhaling skunky, thick smoke with a shrug, “Spiky. Temperamental. Solitary.” 

“Kind of adorable when you’re mad,” he adds with a grin while accepting the joint from you, then puffs on it. A condensed white cloud curls out his parted lips when he hands it back to you. He looks out into the water, “I’d be a goldfish.” 

You study him while taking a drag, and flick a long tube of ash off the glowing orange tip. 

His nose scrunches up around his sunglasses as he glances over at you, “Trapped. Always… on display.” 

You pass him the joint and nod in understanding, but say, “I don’t think you’re a goldfish. You’re like… way cooler than a goldfish.” 

“Well, I don’t think you’re a pufferfish.” 

“Then what am I?” 

“Hmm,” he leans way back in his beach chair, tucking an arm behind his head while taking a hit off the joint, then hands it back to you, “Let me think about it.” 

“Kill it,” you wave off the joint, perfectly content with how stoned you managed to get, and lay back to bask in the warm sunshine. Your eyes drift closed and you release a deep, cleansing breath while thinking about goldfish. Pea-brained, sociable, common. 

Sure, he may feel like a goldfish, but that’s not him. Not really. 

He’s unique, and smart, and dedicated, when he wants to be. 

Dozens of different sea creatures swim behind your eyelids. You compare and contrast each one to your paramour. Octopi are smart and shapeshifters, but they’re too reclusive. Sharks too aggressive. A whole fleet of colorful, tropical fish, but none of them seem right, until one little curly-tailed guy buzzes across the ocean in your head. 

Your eyes open and you smile at him, “You’re a seahorse.” 

“How’s that?” he asks, voice warped by smoke. He grinds the joint into the sand, then outstretches a hand to you. 

You take it, interlacing your fingers with his, forming a bridge between your armrests, “They eat a lot, they’re kind of pokey—”

“Stop, you flatter me,” he deadpans.

You throw your head back in laughter and say, “Wait, wait—let me finish! They’re also cute, and romantic, and smart, and curious,” you lean forward and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss into his skin, then declare, “You, my love, are a seahorse.” 

A wide grin spreads across his face. His thumb works against your hand. He tugs on it and murmurs, “C’mere.”

You crawl out of the beach chair, into his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a kiss. One of his hands snakes around your waist while the other comes to rest on your bare thigh. When your lips part, you curl up against his chest and sigh, “I love you, my sweet seahorse man.” 

He lets out a dopey little giggle and kisses the crown of your head, mumbling into your hair, “And I love you, my beautiful seahorse lady.” 

You gasp, peering up at him, “I get to be a seahorse with you?” 

“It makes sense, don’t you think?” he pulls you close and nuzzles into your hair, snuggling you like you’re his favorite stuffed animal at bedtime, “You and me, we can just… get our tails all tangled up and float around the sea together. Hang out in coral reefs and eat, uhhh… I don’t know, whatever seahorses eat. Sea-monkeys?” 

“Sea-monkeys?” you guffaw, “What the fuck are those?”

“It’s a thing!” he laughs, giving your thigh a playful smack, “Didn’t you ever have sea-monkeys? They came in those, uhh, little Parmesan cheese packet lookin’ things—Oh! They’re shrimp! Brine shrimp.” 

“Ohhhhh!” you cover your face as you nod, “Ok, yes. I know sea-monkeys. I bet if I was a seahorse I would eat the shit out of those.” 

“Told you.” 

“You’re right,” you relax back into him, unable to shake the smile from your lips, “Did you know that when a seahorse finds another seahorse they really like, they mate for life?” 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” your eyes drift closed, lulled by the warmth of him surrounding you, “They love each other so much that when one of them dies, the other shortly follows. Cuz they can’t live without each other.” 

“That’s weirdly romantic,” he chuckles and kisses your forehead. 

“Totally us.” 

He hums in agreement. The noise is saturated with a warm contentment that seeps into your bones and boils them down to broth. It sloshes around under your skin and you can’t imagine having to move ever again. 

“If we stay like this I’m gonna fall asleep,” you mumble. His response is to nuzzle even closer and take a deep, sleepy breath. It’s all the permission you need to let the sandman pull you under. 

When Dieter wakes, not much time has passed. The sun no longer hangs in the zenith of the sky like an angry disco ball, but stares him straight in the face. 

He peaks down at you and chuckles. A puddle of drool has collected on his shoulder, dribbling from the corner of your slackened mouth. Warmth swells in his belly and aches all the way up to his chest. He strokes your sweaty, heated cheek and thinks, “I don’t deserve her.” 

The thought is not so much self-deprecating as it is full of awe at his fortune. 

Each morning, when he wakes and you’re still there, wrapped up in his embrace, he can’t believe it. Your one-way ticket to LA has no return trip planned. Neither of you have brought it up. The closest you’ve come is asking him, “Are you sick of me yet?” one morning over breakfast. 

“Sick of you?” he scoffed and ripped off a chunk of his blueberry muffin, popping it into his mouth, “Not possible.” 

You smiled at him over your coffee mug before taking a tentative sip and changing the subject, “What’re we doing today?”

He knows you have a life back in New York. A business and friends waiting for you to return, but, god… he’d do anything to keep you here forever. To share as many days with you as possible. 

As has been happening often lately, he dwells on a snippet from his near-death experience. The one of him holding your hands, where you’re wearing a white dress, smiling bright and full and gorgeous, and you say, “I do.” 

Given the result of his previous marriage, he considers that he might be an idiot for daydreaming about it. Especially this soon. 

Didn’t he learn his lesson last time? 

Apparently not. 

Did he feel this way last time, though? Like someone turned up the dimmer switch on his life? With Anika, did he ever know, with certainty, that he would give up anything and everything to stay in the orbit of her affection? 

No. 

It’s different with you. The tendrils of your love have burrowed deep inside him, taking root in a place no one else has touched. A place he didn’t even know existed within him. 

You stir a little. Dieter strokes a scarred-up strawberry on your arm, gazing down at you in time to witness your eyes blink open and meet his. A hazy smile spreads across your lips, and you reach up, brushing his patchy beard with your knuckles, “What time is it?” 

The words are groggy and rough. 

He shrugs, “Sometime.” 

Humming, you look around, then try to sit up, but he reels you back in and squeezes his arms around you, “Mmmm no.” 

“Dee,” you whine, laughter wavering your protest, “I’m so thirsty. And hot.” 

“Yeah you are.” 

One corner of your mouth tucks into a smirk and you snort, shaking your head at him. You kiss him, your dry, sea-chapped lips sticking to the soft inner plush of his mouth. When you draw back and stretch your hands up towards the aquamarine sky, a deep yawn expanding your rib cage, he reluctantly lets you go. 

Exhaling a gust, your body goes slack and you roll off his lap into the sand, groaning, “Water,” then crawl towards the cooler. He reaches over to pop the lid open for you and grabs a seltzer. The can opens with a hiss. He brings it to his lips, taking a big swallow of the bubbly, vaguely strawberry-flavored water. 

You twist the cap off a dewy plastic water bottle and tip your head back to guzzle it down, water streaming out the corners of your mouth, trickling down your chin, neck, chest, the column of your throat pumping in a thick glug-glug-glug that flickers at the base of his spine. 

Sand coats your arms and legs, all those microscopic grains clinging to your slick, sweaty skin. The bottle collapses in on itself as you suck down the remaining water. You toss it aside and gasp for air, chest heaving, practically fucking moaning, “Oh my god—that was fucking amazing.” 

A hot, heady rush of need gushes through him. His dick jumps. Breathing quickens. 

Dieter gulps down seltzer, ogling you while you grab a fistful of ice from the cooler and hold it to your forehead, eyes fluttering shut. You press the melting ice into your cleavage, squishing your tits together, lips parting in a gasp. 

Jesus fucking Christ, Louella. 

He sits up and finishes off the seltzer, dropping his empty in the sand, “Need some help?” 

With your head still tilted back, eyelids still sealed shut, a sly smile spreads across your face, “Oh yeah?” 

By now, the heat of your skin has turned the ice to water, trailing shiny and wet down your abdomen, pooling in your belly button, darkening the very top of your black string bikini. 

Dieter stifles a groan at the sight. Saliva gathers in the dark cavern of his mouth. He gulps it down. 

You open your eyes and level your gaze to his, eyebrow quirking as you shrug. 

He takes a handful of ice from the cooler and pats his thigh. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You crawl over to him and climb into his lap, sliding back until you’re seated firmly on his hard cock. 

“Someone is excited,” you chuckle. 

“Can you blame me?” he grins, brushing hair from the nape of your neck. He presses the ice into that knotted bone right beneath your skull, then slides it down your back, drawing circles over each vertebrae. Your shoulders slacken and you let out a sigh of relief. 

When the cube melts, right around the middle of your spine where your string bikini is tied into a neat little bow, he gets a new one. 

“That feels good,” you breathe, hips arching back, ass pressing hard against him. 

The way you say this, all lusty and scraping along the edge of your vocal cords, makes his throat rumble and beckons him closer. He shifts his seated position, sitting up higher, slipping a hand around your waist to make sure you don’t wiggle away, then presses a slow kiss into your pulse. 

You hum, opening your neck wider for him to taste the salty bite of your sweat. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your skin, fingertips digging into your soft belly. The ice cube melts against your tailbone, and he grabs another, smearing its decay along your collarbone, down your sternum. 

When he slides it under your skimpy little bikini top and rubs it against your pebbled nipple, you rock your hips against his, letting out a soft gasp, “You’re gonna get us in trouble.” 

“With who?” he murmurs, nips at your neck, then says, “Nobody’s here, love.” 

“Wait, really?”

You lean forward and look around, turning back to him with a mischievous grin when you find what he said is true. Your pink bubblegum tongue peaks out to wet your lips as you search his face, “Are you sure?”

“Relax, doll,” he purrs, reeling you in, pressing his lips into your shoulder, your neck, your jaw. You reach back, fingers tangling in his hair, and pull him into a leisurely, saccharine kiss. 

Like always, it makes his heart stutter. Bubbles hot and wanting up the middle of him. You roll your hips. The heated weight of you grinds hard against his cock, making him groan into your mouth. 

His fingertips dance across your abdomen, tracing tedious little swirls into your skin. Your lips gape open with a whine and you roll your hips. His eyelids flutter and he shudders at the wave of pleasure that floods his body. He grabs your hips and silently urges you to continue, rocking you back and forth. 

“Fuck, that’s good, baby,” he pants. 

Your hand slides over his, both chilled and wet from melted ice, and you guide it between your legs, nodding when his touch wriggles under the fabric of your swimsuit, moaning when he finds your clit and rubs you, soft and steady, studying the subtle, pleasure-filled tremors that make your muscles twitch and breathing quicken. 

Your eyebrows thread together and your lips get all pouty, these huffy whimpers escaping them with each stroke, and he could just fucking eat you alive right now, you’re that goddamn beautiful. 

His mouth seizes yours. You respond with vigor, twisting your top half around to bury your hands in his hair and kiss him harder. 

He works you faster, flicking his wrist, swallowing your moans whole. 

You pull back with a gasp and throw your head back on his shoulder, “Holy fuck, yes—”

“Does that feel good, baby?” 

“Sofuckinggood,” you whimper, grinding against him, “Fuck—fuck, I want you, Dee—”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you right here in the open?” he coos in your ear.

You nod. 

“Let me take these off,” he withdraws his hand and you scramble to your feet, chest heaving as you glance up and down the shoreline. He tugs off his swim trunks and reclines in the canvas beach chair. 

Your eyes drop to his cock, and this big, delighted smile stretches across your face. Returning to his lap, you lower yourself back while Dieter pushes the gusset of your bikini aside and guides to your target. When the tip of him breaches your entrance, you gasp.

“Holy shit, baby,” he groans as you ease him into your hot, wet squeeze, whimpering, “Fuck fuck fuck,” under your breath as he stretches you open. 

When he can’t go any further, you adjust your posture, hands on his knees, leaning forward, arching your back. You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes, and start to roll your hips, pussy suctioning around him, taking him slow and deep. 

He moans and nods in approval at the pleasure that gushes up his spine, “That’s it, baby, take what you need. Ride that cock how you want it, feels so fucking good, fuuuck—”

“Oh my god, Dee,” you whine, eyes fluttering shut, mouth hanging slack. 

He slides his palms up your back and watches his cock, all shiny with your slick, disappear into you over and over again. Your huffy little whimpers grow louder and you grip his knees, pushing yourself back onto him harder, faster.

“There you go, love,” he groans, gripping your waist, “It’s all yours, baby, take it—”

“Fuck, Dee—”

Your voice is high-pitched and frantic. His hips arch into yours, pulling a wrecked moan from your chest. Liquid heat pulses through him, and when he thrusts again, you gasp and nod, “Fuck, keep doing that.”

He does. He fucks up into you and you curve your spine, face to the sky, tilting your pelvis just so, and the hot, plush silk of your cunt grips his cock, making this sick, wet squelching noise that only fuels him further. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing, so fucking perfect,” he pants, skin tingling with desire, wanting to feel you closer, needing to feel your lips on his. His hips slow and he slides a hand to your belly, urging you, “Come here, baby.” 

Dieter guides you back, threading one arm around your abdomen, the other scooping up your knees. You link your hands at the nape of his neck and he presses his forehead into yours. The first thrust makes your whole body tense and you whimper, “Holyfuckingshit—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, pulling back to meet your wide eyes, “You can do it, you can take it.”

You make this cute, pathetic kind of noise, gulping down a whine, but nod for him to continue. 

He rolls his hips, slow at first, letting you acclimate, increasing his tempo when your head rolls back and your walls relax. 

You’re cradled so close he can see the sweat glistening on your skin, can smell your damp musk, can hear every breathy moan, can feel every muscle in your body quiver as he pumps into you. The edges of him start to crumble, deteriorating with each thick wave of pleasure that washes over him. 

“Fucking perfect, Jesus fucking Christ, pussy feels so good I fucking love it,” he babbles.

Your breathing grows frantic and sharp, head snapping up to tell him, “Don’t fucking stop I’m so close, holy shit Dee—”

“Fuck yes, cum on this dick baby, let me feel you, I fucking love it I fucking love you—”

You pull him into a needy, messy kiss, your deep, wanton moans vibrating on his tongue as you convulse around him, tremors twitching your muscles. A swell of pleasure steals his breath, surging through him hot and gooey and overwhelming, and he falls over the edge, spilling inside you. 

Your lips don’t part from his for more than a moment while the two of you come down into blissful satisfaction, your bodies sweaty and trembling. Labored breaths gradually dissipate into normalcy, and the kisses linger with intimacy. 

“Wow,” you giggle eventually, slack and boneless against his body as you tuck your head into his neck, “Are there awards for fucking? I think you just won in the outstanding performance category.” 

The praise curls up inside him and makes him chuckle, “What an honor. I’d like to thank my beautiful costar, Louella. Couldn’t have done it without you—”

Your laughter cuts him off, then you say,“You can put your Fuck-ee next to your Oscar.” 

“Fuck-ee?” he throws his head back and guffaws, “What would that trophy look like? A golden dong?” 

Your body shakes with laughter, “I think that sounds perfect.” 

He kisses your sweaty forehead, releasing a content sigh before murmuring “I should put my trunks back on.”

You chug two more bottles of water before returning to your chair beside Dieter. 

As you stretch out in the sunlight, the outside world starts to creep back into frame. Sand heats the soles of your feet. Ocean waves roar and slosh onto the beach. A salty breeze ruffles your hair and cools your heated skin. 

Dieter nods to the seemingly infinite gray-blue water, “Wanna take a dip?” 

You look at the ocean. At the tide washing ashore, then pulling back, again and again. Big, rhythmic, gasping breaths. You think about the vast depth of the Pacific, about the ecosystems it contains, all its tides and currents. All the life it contains and death it brings. The sheer power and magnitude of its existence, right in front of you. 

Unease twists your stomach and hums in your bones. Your chest aches. 

It’s so overwhelming. 

Dieter squeezes your hand, reminding you of his question, and you glance over at him, his expression hopeful and earnest. You can’t say no to that face. Besides, it’s just water. 

You’re being irrational. 

“Sure.” 

“Yeah?” he crinkles his nose like he’s squinting at you behind his sunglasses, “We don’t have to, you know.” 

“It’s fine, let’s go,” you crawl to your feet, dusting sand off your legs and ass as you start towards it, ignoring the violent thud of your pulse. 

He catches up to you, interlacing his fingers with yours, and the two of you trudge through the hot sand. 

“Are you sure?” 

You frown, “Yeah, why?”

“You seem,” he pauses here, jaw ticking to one side, then runs a hand through his wind-blown curls, “I dunno. Like you don’t actually want to.” 

You frown and shake your head, but the action isn’t convincing. 

When he starts to slow, you do too, and you both come to a stop, side-by-side, right across the border of smooth, damp sand. A wave crashes against the shoreline. Its tide stretches towards you, then the cool water washes over your feet. 

Dieter squeezes your hand, “Lua. Don’t lie to me.” 

You turn and face him, opening your mouth to lie, then he pulls his sunglasses up into his hair so you can meet his eyes, that warm gaze knocking at the eroded, but stubborn, cement wall of your heart, begging, “Let me in. Please.” 

“It’s stupid,” you drop your gaze and catch the soft inside of your cheek between your molars, then glance between him and the rolling water, “It’s just scary, you know?” 

He frowns, “What is, the ocean?”

“Well, yeah,” you scoff, gesturing towards another incoming wave, “It’s fucking massive. We don’t even know what’s in there, I mean, there could be monsters—”

“Monsters?” 

You shoot him a playful glare and chuckle, “We don’t know!”

“Uh huh” he grins, both of his heated, sandy palms finding your waist. 

You drape your arms around his neck, tangling your fingertips into the damp curls at the base of his skull, then swallow hard and shrug, “And maybe… I don’t know, maybe I can’t, um… swim?” 

His eyebrows shoot up, “Oh shit, really?” 

Heat creeps up your neck. You drop your gaze and hear yourself mutter out excuses like a reflex, “Not very good, anyway. Nobody ever took me swimming, or showed me how, and I never figured it out on my own, and-and Ethan was supposed to teach me—” 

“Hey, that’s fine,” he works his thumb against your skin, soothing you, “We don’t have to go far, no swimming necessary.”

You thread your brows together, “Really?” 

“Obviously,” he scoffs, “What, you think I’m gonna make you? We don’t have to go into the water at all if you don’t want to—”

“No, I want to. It looks nice, just,” you chuckle at yourself, at the worried voice of anxiety piping up in the back of your brain, “I know it’s silly, but will you make sure I don’t get, like… pulled under?” 

“Scout’s honor,” he pulls you into a hug, and you hug him back, resting your cheek on his bare chest. The ragged, jittery sparks in your ribcage calm to a low purr. Your muscles melt and untangle. Another wave washes ashore and rolls over your feet, then disappears.

He plants a firm smooch on your forehead, then rubs your back and murmurs, “Ready?” 

“Let’s fuckin’ do this,” you say in your most masculine tough guy voice, pulling back to grin at him. 

He snorts, shaking his head at you, brown eyes crinkled and twinkling with amusement, then grabs your hand and starts walking out into the tide as it rushes inland. When the ocean takes its offering back, you squeal at the sensation, how water pulls sand out from under you like a rug, coaxing you closer. Wild, salt-addled gusts whip your hair around and nip your generously exposed skin. Before you know it, you’re knee-deep in the icy water, wobbling when an incoming wave shoves you back and splashes up your thighs. 

You gasp and squeeze Dieter’s hand for stability. He steps behind you, wrapping his warm, sun-kissed arms around your body, purring in your ear, “I’ve got you, doll, don’t worry.” 

“Ok,” you nod, staring out into the deep, dark unknown, rooted in place by his fortitude, finally allowing yourself to marvel in the beauty of it all, “Ok.” 

Dieter watches you from bed as you rub moisturizer into your cheeks, leaning towards the bathroom mirror, making all these cute, squishy expressions. Little beads of water drip off the ends of your hair, still wet from the shower, onto the floor and counter. 

He’s never really been a forever kind of person. Up until about a year ago, every good thing in his life had been fleeting: flings, highs, gigs. The friendships he held onto were superficial and based in commodity. His marriage felt like a debt he owed. Companionship spoke foreign tongues. He never felt sated. Never felt like this. 

This. 

Fuck, he loves this. 

He thought people made this shit up. Forever. It always sounded like a joke. 

But it’s all he can think about. How he never wants to spend another night without you here, wearing nothing but his faded old Prince t-shirt, brushing your teeth, putting all your things away in the bathroom drawer. For-fucking-ever. 

When you flip off the bathroom light and come wandering back into the bedroom, you notice him staring at you, and chuckle, “What’re you smiling about?” 

Dieter didn’t even realize he was smiling, but you’re right, he is. With a shrug, he says, “You look pretty.” 

“Yeah?” you smirk, and twirl around a little, “Is this doing it for ya?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

You roll your eyes, that big beautiful smile stretching across your face, and crawl into bed beside him. He wraps an arm around your shoulder as you tuck yourself into his side, ear to his heart. Probably, you hear it skip a beat when he realizes what he’s about to say. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

The seconds after are so quiet he hears your lips part. You shift around until you’re propped up on his chest, searching his face, “What’re you saying?” 

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He curls a hand around the small of your back, “I mean, you know, I want you to stay,” he swallows and meets your gaze, “Like, to live here.” 

Your features lights up, and it’s sweeter than any fucking buzz he ever caught. 

“Really?”

He nods. 

As if something occurs to you, your lips fall into a frown, “What about my baking? And-and Parker—”

“Open something up here. You always tell me about how you want to run a legit bakery,” he smooths his thumb against your spine, “Parker can visit us whenever he wants.” 

“I don’t have the capital to open a bakery—”

“I’ll help.” 

Your shoulders deflate a little and a crease forms between your brows. You tap your fingertips against his chest and ask, “Would you consider moving to New York?” 

He drops his gaze and shakes his head, “I have to be here. Better chance of me picking up work if I’m close by.“

“Dieter,” you pause, holding your breath like you’re not sure you want to say it, but when he meets your eyes, you stammer, “It just doesn’t seem like, I don’t know… Do you even like acting?”

The question feels like a jolt. 

He jerks his head back, “Yeah. Yeah, of course I do.” 

You raise your eyebrows. Unconvinced. Stomach acid sloshes around inside him and bubbles up his throat. 

“It’s my purpose. Acting is the only constant in my life, the only thing that I do that means anything. It—it’s what gets me out of bed and pushes me to keep going.” 

He says this, but the words taste sour. Does he even like acting anymore? Or is he just scared to try something else? 

A glimpse of the answer in his heart sends it racing. He stuffs it down and tries not to look at it. It’s too fucking scary. 

You study him for a moment, then scrunch your face up and stare at your fingertips as they dance across his bare skin. Deep in thought. With each second that goes by, he’s sure you’ll press harder and make him crack. It wouldn’t take much. 

“I wonder how much money I could make selling my inventory,” you ponder out loud,  “Probably at least $20k. That would be an ok starting—”

His mouth drops open, “Holy shit, how much do you have?” 

You shrug, “Twenty pounds raw, thirty pounds cannabutter—”

“And I’ve been smoking you up?” he tuts, “Puta madre.” 

You gasp and smack his chest, breaking out in a giggle when you say, “Rude.” 

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, pulling you closer, “Smoking you up is an honor.” 

“Damn right it is.” 

The two of you smile at each other for a moment, then what you were saying catches up to him. 

“So, if you sell everything, then…” 

Your eyebrow quirks and your grin spreads wider as you shrug, “Then I could probably swing a cross-country move.” 

“Yeah?” 

His cheeks ache from smiling, but he can’t stop. 

You nod, “Yeah.” 

The shrill sound of your ringtone cuts through sleep. 

You roll out of Dieter’s loose grip to grab at the source, frowning first at the time, then the caller. Fucking FaceTime, seriously?

You pull Dieter’s shirt over your head and tiptoe out onto the patio, sliding the door shut behind you as you answer with a hiss, “Parker, it’s 3am, what the fu—”

“Lou, look,” he says, and you squint at the screen, recognizing the propped open door to your apartment building. The snow piles flicker blue and red. Parker pans the camera to the half-dozen NYPD squad cars clogging the street. Police officers and people wearing jackets reading NYPD FORENSIC INVESTIGATION DIVISION file in and out of the building, the outgoing individuals carrying boxes of evidence. 

“I don’t understand,” you shake your head, “What’s going on, are you ok?”

“That’s from your apartment, Lou,” he tells you quietly, “They fucking raided it.”

Panic seeps into your blood, an icy cold rush that numbs your limbs and freezes your brain. You just keep shaking your head, and hear yourself tell Parker, “No—no that can’t be right.” 

“Trust me, it is—”

“Excuse me,” an off-screen voice says to Parker, and the perspective shifts to the source: a bald white man with thick-rimmed glasses. He’s holding a camera, and he asks, “Do you live here?” 

“No,” Parker answers. 

Another wave of panic slams into you as you realize who he is: David Alterman from DIRT. 

You end the call and stare at the screen, unable to move. Unable to think. Just one thought blares in your mind, deafening and persistent: RUN.

#psychomanteum #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo smut #the bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic

[loopstagirl]

Legacy and Destiny

For @janetm74, who requested this. It's kind of an added scene to my Thunderbirds/Merlin crossover found here.

-x-

Resting his elbows on the railing, Scott stared out to sea.

Events of the last few days were… baffling, to say the least. The island invasion by itself was enough; the fear of realising potential hostiles had snuck aboard Thunderbird Two.

But everything else?

How was he supposed to say two people from legend that weren’t supposed to exist had turned up on their secret island? Or Virgil seemed to possess gifts that were impossible? Or even how-

No.

He wasn’t going there.

Thinking about that damn sword made him shiver. He was scared of it. He’d handled enough weapons in his time, that wasn’t it. It was because he wanted it. His hand clenched on the railing. Even now, it called to him…

“Am I disturbing you?”

Scott looked around. Arthur was hovering in the doorway, albeit casting the sliding doors a suspicious look, not quite figuring them out. Scott shook his head, and the legendary ex-king, once-dead monarch of a mythical kingdom, stepped out to join him.

For a moment, both men stood in silence. Arthur stood with his hands clasped behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart. Scott smiled. It had taken him a while to stand at ease after he’d left the USAF, instinct making him slip into parade rest. Constant teasing from his family had cured him of that.

But then Arthur relaxed. It didn’t take long for him to mirror Scott’s position, elbows resting on the railing, also looking out to sea. Scott’s gaze returned to the rhythmic movement of the ocean.

“I remember when my father explained to me what being a prince meant.” Arthur’s voice was soft and Scott glanced over. The man continued to look out to sea.

“That it wasn’t just a title and status and didn’t mean I could do whatever I wanted.”

There was an embarrassed lilt in his tone. Scott had picked up enough from the jibes between Arthur and Merlin to know that even by the time Arthur had grown up, he still expected to get his own way.

“But that it was a responsibility. It wasn’t just my future; it was my kingdom’s future.”

“That’s not how our world works anymore,” Scott said. He felt he knew where this conversation was going and wasn’t sure he was ready. This was his home: he was the one in charge here. Yet he’d never felt so out of his depth.

“Where are the others?” He was deflecting. His brothers usually took the hint, but Arthur only looked at him.

“Merlin’s showing your brother some more tricks.” He was trying to shrug it off, as if it was no big deal, but Scott heard the respect in his tone. Arthur, who had lived in a world where magic was real, was impressed.

How was Scott supposed to feel?

“I understand,” Arthur said.

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Understand what?”

“How’re you’re feeling.”

Scott snorted. “No offence, but no, you don’t.”

“I didn’t know he had magic. My father taught me to believe it was evil. Every time I tried to challenge my beliefs, tried to see it differently, someone proved me wrong. Then I find out my manservant is one of the most powerful sorcerers.”

Arthur trailed off, and Scott glanced at him. There was an old hurt in his voice. Something he’d dealt with, come to terms with, and still got hit with the emotions when he was least expecting it. He didn’t sound so sure of himself any longer.

“I understand what it feels like to have everything you’ve ever known turn on its head.”

“Your best friend kept a secret from you. That’s not the same.”

“He’s not-,” Arthur sighed, then rolled his eyes. Not at Scott though; more at himself. As if there was no point denying it. “That wasn’t what I meant. I died. I finished my fight. Then I’m in this world where nothing makes sense. Where everything I knew and understood has faded into stories. My kn- my friends are with us. We’re all here. But nothing is the same.”

Scott turned, resting his elbows on the railing instead and looking towards the house. It meant he could see Arthur better. He’d never considered it like that: the feeling of being thrust into a brand new world. If he suddenly dropped into Camelot, Scott was certain he wouldn’t last very long.

“Even after all I’ve seen and learnt, this world is strange to me.”

“I don’t think that goes away,” Scott said with a smile. “We’ve seen things too; seen how low humanity can fall, and how high they can raise themselves when disaster strikes. The strangeness of the world makes it worth living in.”

He flushed. John was the one for speeches, not him. But there was something about Arthur… Maybe it was standing in the presence of someone who had once been a king, a ruler in a way so absolute that it made his father as CEO look childish.

Or maybe it was because the magical sword that had caused this entire mess had looked into their souls and seen them as equals.

Arthur made a sound of agreement, then sighed. “Learning what it meant to be my father’s heir was hard,” he continued, returning to their previous topic. “What was expected of me; what people wanted from me; how most would only see me as a prince, not a man.”

Scott jolted. They came from different worlds – but he understood that. As soon as his father had risen in the business world, there’d been a hidden pressure on him. He was Jeff Tracy’s eldest: he had to set the example to his younger brothers, shield them from the press and the questions by taking it on himself. Once the money started coming in as well, he had to protect himself – and them – for those who were only interested in his name.

He'd been prepared to dislike Arthur, wanted to hate the man who’d snuck into his brother’s ‘bird and caused all this chaos. He didn’t expect to understand him, much less like him.

“Why’re you telling me this?” he asked softly.

Arthur straightened. Their heights were identical.

“The sword chose you, too. It saw in you everything it takes to be a great leader.”

Scott couldn’t hold his eye. “I told you, this isn’t how our world works anymore. Being my father’s heir doesn’t me this will all fall to me. It’s not like that these days.”

“Isn’t it?”

Scott frowned.

“You wouldn’t take on the mantle of leader to protect your men – sorry, your brothers – from having to make those calls? Not shoulder the responsibility of dealing with everything that’s related to your name so they could live a life free of that burden? You wouldn’t lay down your life for them?”

Turning, Scott looked back at the ocean. He couldn’t look at Arthur. It was unnerving how right he was. These were the decisions that he’d been making since he was fifteen-years-old.

“I don’t inherit a kingdom,” he said. His tone sounded desperate. That damn sword had got in his head. It wasn't his destiny to become a great ruler. He was supposed to save the world; someone else was supposed to run it. Someone like his dad.

“You inherit a legacy,” Arthur said. His tone was soft. He took a step closer and, to Scott’s surprise, put a hand on his shoulder. Arthur didn’t strike him as the type of man to initiate contact.

Scott looked at him. How could a man who was out of his own time be taking this calmer than he was?

“Don’t make my mistakes,” Arthur said. “Don’t do it on your own.”

“He’ll never be on his own.”

Both men turned. Virgil was standing in the doorway. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, but his eyes were full of excitement. Scott knew his brother was trying to look serious because of the conversation he’d just interrupted, but was bursting to tell him something.

“What?” Scott sighed, although a small smile was tugging at his lips.

“Nothing.” Virgil tried to look serious. Scott rolled his eyes.

“Tell me.”

“Look what I can do!”

Virgil’s expression was one of apt concentration. A shimmering glow filled his eyes, making Scott uneasy. His brothers all had different skills to him, but he didn’t usually worry about them being dangerous (Alan and his racing was another matter). But this? Magic? It was so far beyond him, beyond any logical explanation, that he was uncomfortable.

“It gets easier,” a voice murmured.

Scott glanced over to find Arthur was watching him.

“After a while, you start to see a certain beauty in it. And it’s uses.”

“I’m not using him like a tool! Or a weapon.”

“It’s not your choice to make. He won’t give you that option.” Arthur was no longer watching Scott. His gaze had focused beyond Virgil, and Scott saw Merlin standing in the shadows.

When nothing seemed to happen, Merlin stepped forward and whispered something in Virgil’s ear. The artist nodded, then exhaled, regulating his breathing. Suddenly, one of the small plant pots that lined the balcony rose into the air. It hovered for a moment, then shot skywards.

Virgil gasped. Before Scott could react, a wave of power rolled over him as Merlin’s own eyes changed colour and the flowerpot settled softly back in its spot.

“Still working on it,” Virgil said sheepishly. Scott just shook his head. Half wonder; half bemusement. If someone had told him 24hours ago, he’d be watching Virgil do magic – real, powerful magic – he’d have said they’d had one too many.

“Impressive,” he said, truthfully.

Virgil wiped his forehead, his excitement fading now as he’d done what he wanted to do.

“I meant it,” he said, as if he hadn’t just levitated a flowerpot using magic. “He’ll never be doing this on his own.”

“See what I mean about choice?” Arthur muttered, but Scott could hear the smile in his voice. The king turned to face him.

“Embrace your legacy, your destiny,” he said, tone serious. Scott had to fight to keep his expression neutral at the formality of the words. “It was who you were born to be. The sword knows that. Only the worthy can pull it free.”

“Huh?”

“Long story.”

If Scott wasn’t mistaken, Merlin was shifting uncomfortably behind Virgil.

Arthur stepped forward, heading back inside. Scott called him back.

“What if I’m not worthy?” If anyone other than Virgil was present, he’d never dare say it. “What if it’s wrong?”

To his surprise, Arthur smiled. "That you think so shows it’s chosen well. No one who deserves power chooses it.”

Merlin suddenly snorted, ruining the moment, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“How did you bring it back down?” Virgil asked Merlin. It seemed an abrupt change of topic, but Scott knew his brother. Or, rather, Virgil knew him. He was giving him space to process his thoughts, taking the attention off him for a few moments.

Merlin glanced at Arthur.

“May I?”

“May you what?”

“Show him.”

“You’re asking permission?” Arthur sounded incredulous and Merlin shrugged.

“Feels like the right thing to do after that speech,” he said, the glint in his eye having nothing to do with magic this time.

“Since when has it mattered to you if I give you permission or not? You never do as I say, never have.”

“I do, too!”

“Name one time you did what you were told.”

“When you threw me out of your rooms when Bayard came to Camelot after you were crowned.”

Arthur snorted. “You weren’t doing as you were told: you wanted a day off.”

“Which you never gave me.”

“You did no work to warrant one.”

“I was too busy saving your life!”

“Of course you were.” Arthur’s tone was dry. “Being the youngest First Knight of Camelot counted for nothing, then?”

“Not against magic, it didn’t.”

The pair moved inside, still bickering. Scott caught Virgil’s eye, and as soon as his brother’s lips twitched, laughed. Virgil came to join him, resting his forearms on the railing and staring at the ocean.

“Okay?” he asked causally. Scott mirrored his position.

“Says the guy who just floated a flowerpot with nothing more than his mind.”

Virgil shrugged. “That’s new and exciting. You’re dealing with something that you’ve always known and never wanted to accept.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re our leader, Scott. Sure, Dad’s our commander, but it’s always been you we’ve followed, ever since we were kids.”

“That’s what being a big brother is all about,” Scott said. “You know that.”

Virgil just smiled at him. “It’s more than that, and you know it.”

Scott didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He had always known in. He’d taken the lead when they were children, blaming it on being the eldest. But then he’d become a captain in the USAF with his own team, slipped into the role of Field Commander when International Rescue was established…

Arthur had a point. Being his father’s heir didn’t mean inheriting a kingdom like it might have done in the past. But it meant something. Something he planned to live up to.

“C’mon.” He pushed away from the railing and headed back inside. “I’m not sure we want those two running loose around the island.”

It wasn’t about trust. It was more that one had powerful magic Scott didn’t understand, and the other was a strong king who had no idea how a microwave works.

#thunderbirds #merlin #fanfiction #thunderbirdsxmerlin crossover #scott tracy #virgil tracy #arthur pendragon #magic!Virgil #thunderbirds fanfiction #merlin fanfiction

[cherrys-side-bitch]

Hey Cherry!! Congrats on 350 followers! I wanted to request prompt 93 with Nanami and a male! reader if at all possible. Make sure to not overwork yourself!

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚 𝕥𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠

Male! Reader, light angst with a happy ending

After a long day of working, Nanami was relieved that he was finally able to go back home and relax until he looked up into the night sky and saw a concerning amount of smoke coming from the area of your shared apartment, causing him to sprint to the scene, worrying for the worst. When he arrived at the apartment, the street was closed off, with firemen and police enforcing who went in and out. He tried to see if you were anywhere to be seen but to no avail.

Out of nowhere, a voice spoke up to him. "I'd recommend staying away from here, sir. It isn't safe." As he looked over, the voice was revealed to be an officer attempting to clear out surrounding civilians from the area. Once he saw that, he felt partially at ease for a moment. “I appreciate the concern. I'm just trying to see if my partner was there. You see, the two of us live in that apartment and I'd like to see if he is alright." The officer nodded. "Well, if you wish, I could see if they are here, though some have already cleared out, so I can't promise much." Nanami nodded and gave the officer you name as he waited impatiently, worrying about what might have happened to you.

When the officer returned, he confirmed that you were okay and offered to allow him to see you as long as he didn't make a scene. Agreeing, Nanami followed the officer to where you were sitting. Upon arrival, the officer looked at Nanami and simply stated, "Remember what I said" before leaving the two of you alone. "May I ask what he said?" you inquired, only getting a soft sigh from your lover in return. "It’s nothing important, I assure you. But what happened here? You're okay, right?" he stated in an uneasy tone. “Well...” you started, “I’m completely fine but I may or may not have tried to make dinner... And maybe might have accidentally set our apartment on fire..” you trailed off.

Nanami stared for a second, not believing what he had just heard. "Wasn’t that the one thing I told you not to do?" “Well, yes, but I just wanted to do something nice for you! I didn't think I was going to burn down part of the apartment...” Once you finished, he sighed, grabbing your shoulder, "I'm just glad you're not hurt, alright? "Now promise me you won't try this again. You don't have to worry about pleasing me with a meal. I’m fine with making meals for the both of us." You nodded in agreement, apologizing for the trouble you've caused him. He let's out a light chuckle then sighs, “Now how the hell are we going to pay for these repairs...”

#jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x male reader #nanami x male reader #angst with a happy ending #jjk fluff #x male reader #writing prompt #writing #request

[high-functioning-fang1rl]

Well I’m already exhausted and it’s only Monday, and there are NO WORDS to describe how TERRIFIED I am of what’s to come on Wednesday, so what better thing to distract myself with than some writing? So here’s Part 2 of my AU, where Chucky manipulates Nica into thinking she’s his daughter at the end of Cult!

One Side of the Knife! AU PART TWO!

The sound of a drill and cackling laughter pierced the air eerily as Nica rolled her chair through the empty asylum hallway. Not sure she wanted to know what she’d find, she hesitated before she rounded the corner, stopping at the bizarre scene before her.

The one-armed Good Guy was holding a drill that she noted was shiny with blood, laughing shrilly with the other doll she had followed. Malcolm lay on the ground beside them, blood pouring from the fresh hole through his head, his face frozen and blank with death.

Dizzy and queasy, Nica spotted yet another body, her heart sinking when she recognized that it was Nurse Ashley.

She’d had kids, Nica thought with a pang. Kids who wouldn’t ever know what happened to their mother.

Unable to stop her gasp of horror, the two dolls turned their attention on her.

“I knew you’d make the right choice!” The Chucky she’d followed crowed, his arms spreading robotically in victory.

But she leaned back, recoiling. “What did you do?” She demanded anxiously.

The doll holding the drill shrugged, lowering the weapon to his side. “The guy was certifiable! He killed the nurse pretending to be me and got himself killed for it! He was on borrowed time anyway.”

Nica recalled Malcolm claiming to be “Charles” the last time she’d spoken, but she couldn’t stop the pang of regret coursing through her as she remembered the relief she’d felt meeting him, the feeling that she finally had an ally again when she’d felt so alone and helpless in the cursed walls of Harrogate.

“It couldn’t be helped, kid!” Chucky tried to assure her. “Now we can get out of here no problem!”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Nica nodded, rolling the chair after him, doing her best to ignore the bodies and how they basically made a trail toward the office she’d been in as she passed. The two dolls split up, Nica immediately following the intact doll down the longer hallway toward what she knew was the exit. She only paused when he did, looking into an empty room.

A young man, his back toward her, stared down at what she guessed could only be the third Good Guy doll Nica had seen in Dr. Foley’s office, though it was so smashed under the person’s boot that she couldn’t be sure.

As if sensing he wasn’t alone, the figure turned, immediately pointing a gun in their direction.

It felt like a jolt of electricity ran through her as she faintly recognized that the man in front of her must be Andy Barclay, all grown up.

For a brief second he seemed just as surprised by Nica’s presence, his lips parting slightly and eyes widening a fraction. Then his eyes went to the doll and without hesitation, his handsome features determined, grim, he trained the gun forward the doll and pulled the trigger, and Nica tensed in her chair as an empty click indicated he was out of bullets.

“Tag you’re it, Pal!” Cackling, Chucky suddenly swung the door shut. “Lock it!” He barked at her as Andy ran to the door.

Only hesitating for a brief moment, Nica obeyed, her wrist flicking out quickly to shut the young man in.

“NO!” Fists pounded on the door, Andy howling and cursing Chucky behind the door.

Against her better judgement, Nica looked at Chucky, hoping to assuage the guilt she felt at leaving the attractive stranger locked in Harrogate. “Why is he here?”

Chucky awkwardly clambered up onto her lap, his eyes big blue and earnest. “The kid’s got issues! He’s stalked me for years- he heard I was coming here to free you and thought you were working with me. He wanted to keep us both locked in here, but the joke is on him! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

With one last glance to the locked door, still unsure she was doing the right thing, she continued toward the exit obediently.

*****

The cold was the first thing she noticed, and she began shivering immediately as the air hit her.

Snow was falling gently, and despite the circumstances Nica couldn’t help but admire the beauty of it, couldn’t stop herself from taking a deep breath of fresh air, the feeling of freedom making her body sing.

Carefully wheeling around the steps, she made her way toward the gates, where a red car sat waiting for them.

The gorgeous blonde- Tiffany Valentine, she recalled- stood waiting beside the car patiently, her eyes fixed on the doll in Nica’s lap, a smile fixed on her expertly painted red lips.

She addressed Chucky, her voice as distinctive and unforgettable as it had been when she’d met with Nica to tell her about Alice and leave Chucky with her. “Hey, Sweetface. ‘S good to see you.” She said playfully.

Nica was surprised, however, when the doll replied, a fondness she’d never heard before evident in his voice. “You look great, Tiff.”

Tiffany smirked, her big eyes moving up to regard Nica curiously.

Chucky read the question in her eyes and quickly offered “I believe you’ve already met but, Tiff, may I properly introduce Nica Pierce? Nica, meet my wife; Tiffany.”

“Hi.” Nica shifted shyly, uncomfortably, trying for a smile.

It felt like there was fire in her gaze as Tiffany smiled back, offering a pleasant “Hello.” in return, and Nica got the impression Tiffany was not thrilled by her presence.

“Nica here decided she wanted to know more about where she came from, so she’ll be joining us, just like we hoped!” Charles said authoritatively, reaching up for Tiffany.

Seemingly more pleased when holding him in her arms, Tiffany grinned. “Let’s go, SweetFace!” She cooed, bringing him around and placing him in the passenger seat. Then she returned to the driver’s side, opening the door to the backseat and opening her arms. “Nica…” she politely waited for permission before lifting Nica out of the chair, carefully putting her in the backseat and helping her buckle.

Nica noticed the car wasn’t big enough to fit the wheelchair, and she paused, her body going tense.

“I…um, I’ll need my chair…” she told them apologetically, embarrassed, years of conditioning making her cheeks heat red.

But Chucky looked back at her from the front seat as Tiffany slid into the driver’s seat, his voice gravely but unbothered. “Not a problem! We have a chair at home for ya- I told ya, we planned on this! Well, hoped on it, at least!”

Despite herself, something small fluttered inside of her chest; the ease of her disability being accepted foreign to her, a tiny part of her preening, grateful for the kind treatment.

“Thanks.” She said softly.

In the driver’s seat, Tiffany sighed.

“What.” Chucky demanded.

Meeting Nica’s eyes in the rearview mirror, Tiffany said with a pout. “I was just thinking about Alice...”

Nica’s heart constricted, tears immediately burning behind her eyes as she looked away, pain lancing through her heart.

The blonde continued, “And how much I miss her and how sorry I am that she’s gone… but maybe having you here will help us all feel close to her.”

Sniffling, Nica nodded, wiping at her eyes as she attempted to swallow the grief. “Yeah…yeah, maybe it will.”

“Good point, Tiff. Now let’s get the hell out of here!” Chucky waved his arm.

Smiling, Tiffany turned the engine on, and settling back into the seat as the car started, Nica finally saw the blonde, female doll in the seat beside her, jumping in shock when it turned to return her curious look with one of it’s own.

Seeing her surprise and momentary fear, the doll laughed, the shrill sound unmistakably a duplicate of Tiffany’s. From the front of the car, the human Tiffany and Chucky joined in the laughter, as if sharing an inside joke.

In between bouts of uninhibited cackling Chucky apologized for the surprise. “Boy, do we have a lot to catch up on!” He told her as the car pulled away.

Feeling lighter as the car left the facility she’d been contained in for too long, a place of nightmares, Nica began chuckling at herself too, the car growing loud with the sound of their mirth.

She didn't even notice the body left discarded on the pavement, the red blood soaking into the white blanket of snow around it.

*****

Well, we’re on our way now! Thanks for reading!

When it comes to future installments, there are MANY ways this could go, and I’m curious what you all would like to see/read! How dark should Nica go/how deep into Chucky and Tiff’s claws should she get? I’ve got a few ideas for many scenarios, so I’d be happy to hear what you all want to read!

I’m slowly loving this AU more and more so I’d love to hear any input/thoughts you may have! :)

*Hope you all are having a great week already! 🥰*

#chucky 2021 #nica pierce #andy barclay #brad dourif #chucky series #chucky syfy #fiona dourif #jennifer tilly #tiffany valentine #chucky #jevon #junior wheeler #jake wheeler #lexy cross #devon evans

[rosemaidenvixen]

HALLOWEEN PROMPT!!!

Either within the sunshine au or not (up to you), but I would love a scene where troll Jim and Draal do something together so badly 😭

Preferably fluff because that's what this scene feels like it needs, but tbh I'll take anything with troll Jim and Draal.

“Come now, is the mighty Trollhunter cowed by the thought of a few goblins?”

Jim started a little bit, so subtle he almost didn’t notice “N– no, I’m good,”

Draal narrowed his eyes as the two of them continued their trek through the dark street, the hour late enough that they didn’t have to worry about stray humans spotting them, at least not sober ones. 

He would freely admit that he was a troll who’s strengths lay in brute force, not cunning, but even he could see that something was weighing on the young Trollhunter’s mind.

“You are not ‘good’, you are clearly troubled,”

“Look it’s nothing, alright,”

Draal snorted “If it is nothing I suggest you focus your mind on the task at hand fleshbag,”

That got a weak chuckle out of him “Not a fleshbag anymore,” he ran a hand over one of his horns “Remember?”

Draal let out a sharp bark of laughter, swooping Jim up with his mechanical arm and noogieing him with the other “You may have horns now but you’ll always be a puny fleshbag to me!”

Normally such a move would have Jim laughing and squirming under Draals grip as he playfully tried to get free, but instead he went completely limp, not reacting in the slightest.

In an instant Draal lifted Jim out and set him on his feet “No more stalling, something is weighing on you, now tell me what the issue is or I’ll hang you by your ankles from the nearest tree,”

Jim let out a heavy sigh, already small body deflating even further “It’s just…hard, after the holiday you know?”

Draal raised an eyeridge, glancing around at the strands of lights and decorations lingering from the celebrations two days previous still adorning the human huts of this village.

“I thought you and your companions reveled until dawn?”

“We did and it was fun and I had a blast, but…”

He trailed off, Draal wanted to prod him and asked him what the heart of the issue was, but forced himself to hold his tongue and wait.

“Now it’s going to be another whole year before I can go out and do things as…me,”

Draal blinked at that “Ah,”

The time after a festival was always a hard one, and Jim must be having an especially difficult time immediately after the only human festival where he could show his true face. Just one of  the many ways the change from human to troll had been and would no doubt continue to be a trial for Jim. A battle he’d no doubt be struggling with for a very long time. As much as he wished to Draal couldn’t lift these burdens from his shoulders, but maybe…

Draal spotted something, neatly lined up in a row in front of a hut, and felt a grin stretch over his face.

“Perhaps, but now you can celebrate as only a troll can,”

“Draal I swear if this is more mud pit wrestling–”

He snagged a gourd with his mechanical hand and tossed it in Jim’s direction, the young troll catching it reflexively while Draal scooped up the other gourds in his stone arm.

“Now that the humans are done with their plant lanterns we get our turn with them,” with that Draal threw back his head and tossed a gourd inside, the orange rind crunching against his teeth, smiling with satisfaction at the taste spreading across his tongue.

“Dude we can’t just eat people’s jack-o-lanterns!”

“The festival is over, the humans have no further use for them. And weren’t you just saying how much of a struggle these gourd lanterns are to dispose of? Clearly we’re doing the humans a favor,”

“Draal these have mold.”

“Which means the flavor will be perfect,” he tossed another into his mouth “Go on,” he got the words out around chunks of orange flesh “Try it,”

Jim gave the gourd one more wary glance before raising it to his mouth and taking a bite.

Draal could pinpoint the exact second the flavor registered, the fleshbag turned troll’s eyes going wide with surprise and delight.

There was nothing quite like seeing a young troll’s first taste of pumpkin.

Instead of looking back up at him Jim took a second bite of his gourd, then a third, only then, cheeks swollen with orange flesh did he look back up at Draal “These are amazing,” he spoke through a mouthful of partially chewed pumpkin “I didn’t even think I could eat plants anymore,”

“I knew you’d enjoy these,” Draal reached over to roughly ruffle his hair “Fleshbag,”

This time Jim smiled and playfully batted his hand away, gourd clutched protectively against his chest “So a patrol’s almost done, and rotting pumpkins are a pain to clean, plus I think the rest of Trollmarket might like some…”

“Ha! Now you know why I brought this,” Draal held up a large sack “Come Trollhunter, now the real hunt begins,”

Jim grinned up at him, tusks stained orange “While we’re gathering these for Trollmarket we have to try a few, make sure they’re good and all,”

Draal let out a hearty laugh “Of course!”

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #jim lake jr #draal the deadly #rmvwrites #halloween prompts #troll!jim

[cloudymistedskies]

“Stuck in the classroom together”

Marimui short fic ☁️🌫️!! (Kimetsu gauken au)

Word count: 1047 (oh yeah this may be ooc for Muichiro here aaHhaahhsJS)

The two sat on their respective chairs in the empty classroom they both got locked in. Mari forgot about her stuff and Muichiro decided to accompany her, considering she might get distracted by something or someone. By some stupid luck, while the two were in the classroom, someone seemingly passed by and didn’t think of checking in the classroom before closing it and locking it.

Mari was trembling in fear while Muichiro appeared calm, comforting the anxious brunette.

“There, there…” Muichiro whispered to Mari in a soothing tone. This managed to calm Mari down a little, but she was still anxious nonetheless.

“This is just great! We’re stuck in this classroom and my phone is dead! I should’ve charged it while I had the chance to!” Mari curses herself, hugging her knees and hiding her face. Muichiro looks down at Mari with a sympathetic expression, shaking his head. Unfortunately for Muichiro, he left his bag with his older twin, which has his phone. The two were gonna be in this classroom for only a few minutes or less.

“This is just reminding me of those scary movies! Gah…!!” Mari hugged her knees tighter, tearing up. Muichiro pulls Mari into a hug, caressing her back in a way to comfort the green-eyed girl.

“No need to worry, Mari. The teacher who is on night duty will help us get out.” Muichiro reassured, kissing her forehead softly. Mari hummed in response. She peeks her head out a little, revealing her teary eyes and wiping it with the back of her hand, sniffling.

“I…Don’t know why I’m even crying… I shouldn’t be this scared but yet I am…” Mari muttered, hiccuping right after muttering those words.

“It’s normal to react like that, Mari. Don’t put yourself down.” The long-haired boy helps Mari wipe her tears off her face, then the brunette went back to hiding her face in her knees. He tries to think of anything to distract Mari from this. Then an idea popped up in his mind.

“Hey, Mari… Did you remember the one time me, you and nii-san were in your house for a sleepover?” Muichiro asked Mari, a small smile appearing on his face. Mari looks up to Muichiro, letting out a small ‘hm’ and blinking before answering.

“U-Uhh… Which one to be specific?” The green-eyed girl wipes her tears as she raises one of her eyebrows.

“When we were 10! Both you and I decided to try to make smores with the stove…” The mint-green eyed boy trailed off, finding himself feeling slightly embarrassed of what he’s about to say, but then giggled shortly after.

“..You and I forgot to turn the stove off and the house would’ve probably been in flames if it weren’t for nii-san turning it off…” He continued, before letting out another small giggle. Mari returned the giggle.

“Ah… right… He reprimanded us and pulled both of our ears. Haha…” Mari started to smile, making Muichiro’s smile widen.

“He was like ‘Do you both wanna burn the house down, you two?! I can’t believe you both forgot to turn off the stove just because my little pony was on TV!’ Pfft…” Mari quoted Yuichiro’s words, eventually the two laughed together, Mari seemingly forgetting about her anxiousness. This made Muichiro relieved. He loves Mari’s smile.

“Oh my god… Mui! Did you remember the time when we entered middle school and the three of us were new to this school?” Mari asked Muichiro with a grin. Muichiro’s eyes widened before nodding and giggling.

“Right! You got lost and caused a huge scene! Shinazugawa-sensei chased you down the halls after you bumped into him carrying a bunch of papers and it scattered around!” The two shared a good moment to laugh at any funny moments they remember.

And it was like that for a while…

“Milo and I were late to school, so I helped her sneak in and not get caught by Tomioka-sensei!”

“Nii-san nearly had a heart attack when we saw you wearing your Halloween costume!”

“Oh! Oh! My cousins and I accidentally brought way more eggs than necessary and nee-chan was really… disappointed…in us for that…”

Eventually, the two heard the door unlocking, making Mari remember that they were stuck in this classroom.

“Ah, right. Forgot about this…” Mari said before grasping Muichiro’s arm and hugging it tight as they watch the door slide open, revealing whoever unlocked the door and them stepping in.

“Mari…?! Tokito?!” Riko looks at the couple in shock as Mari did the same too. Muichiro only had his eyebrows widened.

“N-Nee-chan…!” Mari immediately stood up and rushed towards her older sister, bear hugging her tight.

“Nee-chan! Thank god you’re here!” Mari cried out, tightening her hug. Riko stood still for a moment before chuckling and returning the hug, gently patting her younger sister.

“..It was my time to do night-patrol and I heard voices here… I was wondering where you two were. I’m guessing you both got stuck here…” The blonde explained. Muichiro stood up and walked towards the Kaizumi sisters, putting his hand on Mari’s shoulder.

“Ah. That reminds me. Tokito, your brother was looking for you and Mari. He was worried something might’ve happened to you two.” Riko informed Muichiro, who nodded in response. Mari…seemed to have fallen asleep, hugging Riko. The two stared at the sleeping brunette before the bakery teacher giggled, holding Mari and picking her up.

“Looks like my baby sister is asleep now… I’d return her back to home but I’m still on my duty…” Riko sighed, unsure what to do.

“Oh, I can take her home if you want, Kaizumi-sensei.” Muichiro suggested, gently patting the sleepy Mari.

“Ah… If that’s not too much trouble, Tokito.” Riko responded, giving a slightly worried but warm smile. Muichiro shook his head and took the sleepy brunette from Riko, holding her bridal style.

“Not at all.” Muichiro said, smiling fondly at his girlfriend and kissing her forehead, gently. The blue-eyed woman giggled at Muichiro’s actions.

“In that case, I should head back to my duties now. You should get going since I’ll be locking back this classroom.” Riko advised. The long-haired boy nodded silently and head out of the classroom with Mari in his arms. Riko stared at the wide open door, smiling.

“Those two are a match made in heaven…” Riko mumbled to herself, sighing. The keys chimed as she grabs them before exiting the classroom and locking it

Kimetsu academy whispers:

Mari may have made Muichiro stay in her house for the night...since she held onto him in his sleep... Or that's just Muichiro's excuse since he has the capability to get out of her grasp...

Mari always had this fear of being stuck in a room with no way out, hence why she was anxious and scared.

Mari likes fluttershy

I also made this fic during school so it may suck ass HAHAHD

#Cloudy writes #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny oc #demon slayer oc #kimetsu no yaiba oc #kny muichiro #muichiro tokito #oc x canon #oc x canon shipping #anime oc x canon #oc x character #kny fic #kny oc fic #kny oc x canon

[fairykazu]

memories

masterlist

SCARLET LEAVES WILD WINDS: kazuha kaedehara x gn! reader

although kazuha is known to be the type to wander, you were the same. not like how he wandered around though; you traveled for your profession as an apothecarist. you two met when you were looking for inazuma specialities to make medicine for children less bitter other than using sweet flowers. 

you were stuck in your journal in narukami island. you mumbled to yourself, “where’s the naku weeds?” you have heard in conversations and books that naku weeds could contain properties to heal or reduce inflammation. you sat down on a rock, tossing your journal aside. the glass vials slung around your waist clinked together. though, you had a bad feeling in your stomach, you dismissed it as a craving issue. 

until you heard footsteps behind you, you quickly retrieved your journal as a deep voice spoke up, “hah! it’s my lucky day!” when you turned around, the samurai (you think) unsheathed his blade from his sheath; another followed his suit, cocking a gun. you winced while you tried to defend yourself but you only had your vials on you and nearly dodged a firework-bullet. shit, the day you thought you didn’t need your weapon. but suddenly, a breeze flew by. 

you could only hope that barbatos was sending a savior your way. 

and thank archons, he was. you could feel someone’s presence while you tumbled back. one of your vials broke but you didn’t dare to look away from the fighting scene. the “savior”, barbatos sent you, has ivory hair with a red streak pulled back in a side ponytail. 

“fallen leaves... adorn my night.” a sudden breeze collided with the samurais together. you werent the type to be engrossed with fighting; the way this person fought so delicately yet efficiently, nearly took your heart out. mostly because the savior is attractive; thank you, barbatos!

you didn’t notice the fight with the samurais (well, you think they are. but they wore different uniforms… maybe it wasn’t a samurai).

“hello, mx? are you okay after the nobushis tried to attack you?” he asked, offering his hand to you. you gratefully accepted, hoping your heaving wasn’t noticeable. everything became calmer when you saw his ruby eyes, it reminded you of the warmth of a fire in the winter. you didn’t notice you were in a trance until he tapped your shoulder, 

“mx?” 

you snapped out immediately. “ah! yes, i am and thank you,” you replied, reaching for the vials on your belt sheepishly. he hummed back a tune which you took as a “your welcome”. until you remember you’re missing two different vials, “wait, sir, can you help me with something?”

he looked at the vial missing at your belt before glancing at the vial on the ground. the material was already scattered across the grass and it’s not if you can’t get the materials back, you can but it would be mixed with the dirt. “i assume it’s for the vials you need and of course, i can. mx, i’m kaedehara kazuha and you are?” 

“oh, i’m name! i just need some naku weeds to soothe one of my clients’ inflammation. i’ve heard from other medics that it helps. do you know where to find it?” 

“of course, i do, name…” kaedehara trailed off to tell you about his adventures. once you collected enough materials to fill up your vials, you thanked him and went about your day. you kept touch with kaedehara enough to refer to him as his first name. each letter kazuha has sent to you has personalized poems, they never fail to make you flustered. 

you would leave riddles of your next destination of materials and kazuha would always be at the exact spot. this time, you laid a clue about starsnatch cliff: “where the intangible as the true heart of an unbound soul thrives.” it took awhile for kazuha to come where you were but at last, he was by your side. 

“ha! i knew i could beat you by sunset.” you laughed as kazuha hid behind his hands. he sheepishly responded,

“i didn’t know i had to be knowledgable in flowers trivial. it hurts to say that it took more time than i wanted” 

“oh, c’mon, kazuha! you know me.” 

“i do.”

he liked to reminisce on old memories, especially at the brink of dawn and even more so when you’re in his arms. he kissed your forehead softly before whispering an i love you. what he did not expect is that you said it back. 

“i love you too, kazuha. but go back to bed; i have a day off tomorrow.” you replied as he nuzzled his head into your neck and you felt a smile spread.

#kazuha x you #kazuha kaedehara #kazuha genshin #kazuha kaedehara x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #gender neutral terms #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact fanfiction #fanfics #fairykazu #kazuha x gender neutral reader #kazuha x female reader #female reader #x reader #fluff #drabble #gn reader #fem reader #fluffy #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #kazuha genshin impact #anemo character

[wellthebardsdead]

Unwilling Dreamer pt2

Pt 1 here

Okay yall twisted my nipples this is an au for Shamat and ‘evil’ warlord nerevar.

———

*a few hours and a guar back to mournhold*

Nerevar: *pacing back and forth in the hall, the temple quiet minus the hushed whispers hurried steps of healers* …what happened to you Voryn?… this isn’t how I was supposed to find you. Not like th-

*door creaking open*

Head Healer: My lord.

Nerevar: *spins around to see them standing by the partially opened door* How is he?

Head Healer: Delirious from dehydration, malaria, and withdrawals from skooma, I believe. But his back and other wounds have been disinfected and dressed. It’ll be a long process if they’re to heal without scarring his flesh as you’ve requested.

Nerevar: *steps forward and peers into the room to see Shamat laying amongst the cushions, sweating and occasionally convulsing between trembling* has he managed to keep any food down?…

Head healer: beyond bread and water no. We understand he was starved before entering imprisonment and his condition only worsened in incarceration. We tried feeding him something mild like soup but he kept muttering that it was poison and he didn’t want it.

Nerevar: poison? Why would he think that?

Head healer: I’m not sure. It was a simple ash rice soup.

Nerevar: …Perhaps the dark colour reminded him of skooma?

Head healer: well, it’s possible, but if that were the case I’d of expected him to snatch it from us to sate his withdrawals.

Nerevar: I see… Did he tell you his name?

Head Healer: *sighs* Shamat.

Nerevar: What?!

Head healer: my exact thoughts when I heard it. Shamat as in Sharmat… whoever named him had a cruel sense of humour… but… are you certain this is… His… reincarnation.

Nerevar: … *nods* it’s him… I’m sure of it…

Head Healer: … *nods* very well, I won’t doubt your judgment Hortator. So long as you’re certain. *fixes their robes and holds the door open* You may see him now if you’d like?… We will give you a moment.

Nerevar: *nods and steps in as the other healers get up and hurry out with their master* … *watches them go as the door closes before looking back to the poorly elf with the face of his past love, and the strange birthmark on his forehead* …Oh voryn… *sits beside him gently taking his hands and feeling his heart ache as his fingers graze across the callouses on the dunmers skin* what happened to you?…

Shamat: *blearily opens his eyes and looks around the room before resting his gaze on nerevars face, his head pounding with the thrumming of a drum in his ears and his body hot as if on fire* I?… where… where am I?… it’s… its you…

Nerevar: *smiles hearing his voice, his voryns voice, frail and quivering, but undeniably him* it’s me… *gently squeezes his hand bringing it to his lips and giving it a soft kiss* do you remember what happened?…

Shamat: *tilts his head in confusion at the kiss* I… I was being flogged by my warden… and… then you came… and I blacked out?… I don’t… remember…

Nerevar: *furrows his brow* how did you even end up in that situation?…

Shamat: *looks at him then at his hand as the chimer holds it so gently* I… I… *looks away in shame* I was supposed to meet a new dealer… after you killed my old one… I-I tried to go clean but I couldn’t take it anymore, I just needed a-a taste, a spoonful at least… I… went to the wrong house though… when I entered I found a whole family m-murdered… a-and a member of the morag tong fleeing the scene as the guards turned up… *whimpers recalling the blood, and how he was treated by the ordinators* I-I never killed anybody I swear- I swear it! *looks back at him as his voice cracks with distress*

Nerevar: Shhh- *gently lays him back in the pillows, his hand stroking his cheek and trailing slowly up to his forehead before thumbing his birth mark gently* how did you even get addicted to that filth? My dreamer?…

Shamat: *stares up at him with even more confusion, mind too feverish and warped to comprehend the affectionate title* I didn’t want it, they m-made me drink it. N-nobody would hire me, I was too young, too cursed they told me… I-I t-t-tried begging but it wasn’t enough, th-then men started offering me gold to sleep with them. I didn’t understand wh-what it was at first, and they told me if I drank it, it’d make me feel good. When I-… I said no… they forced it into my mouth… I woke up I think- days?… later… I…it made the pain go away…

Nerevar: *appearing calm on the outside but inwardly planning to rip the entirety of morrowind apart to find those responsible for hurting him* you… mentioned some, called you cursed… why?

Shamat: *whimpers looking visibly tired and unwell, clearly in no state to be interrogated or questioned but still carries on* my… *shakily raises his hand and points to his forehead before letting it fall into his lap* my birthmark… they called me the Sharmat… that’s why I was named Shamat…

Nerevar: *grits his teeth hearing his sweet voryn being referred to as if he were still possessed by the false dreamer* That is not who you really are…

Shamat: *looks up at him perplexed, eyes heavy and barely clinging to consciousness* you?… know?… who I really am?…

Nerevar: *nods, his hand sliding down to his cheek and holding his gaze* I do… Voryn Dagoth.

Shamat: I?… *stares up at him as his eyes widen for just a moment, before closing as he passes out into the soft bed beneath him*

Nerevar: *sighs* oh voryn… *leans down kissing his forehead softly, then his cheek, then his lips* you’ll remember soon enough…

Head Ordinator: *suddenly steps into the room* sir. We found his criminal file. There was no sign of a writ at the murder scene but the injuries were associated with tong methods. What will you have my men do?

Nerevar: *looks back at him slowly* Find them… Find everyone who hurt my dreamer. Rip the land apart if you must. They will face justice…

#Shamat the sharmat #nerevar #shamat dragonborn

[joeys-piano]

Words Tag

Tagged by @backwardshirt to search through my WIPs for the following words so I can share a snippet that contains that word. It sounds complicated, but I think I can follow: light, ache, sick, blue, and tremble.

Tagging for funsies, but know you don't have to do this: @coffeeandcalligraphy, @thechaoscryptid, @silencedfalcon, @fragrant-stars, and you - you wonderful reader, you dastardly reader you!

Really the only thing of note as I'm going through this is that I've had my fingers in different writing pots. Your words are: eye, mouth, hand, foot, stomach.

LIGHT | I have "slightest" sir! Yes, I'm cheating. I'd be here a long time otherwise. This is from a Ouran High Host club WIP where I was greatly inspired by xxxHolic for a hot week.

The Suoh clan’s matriarch wields the fourth fan of the tengus: the slightest shift between the leaves could summon hailstorms as well as break them, a resounding snap on any rib blows a mountain into the trees. She won it firstly in a duel, the second time to the death, the third attempt against her claim stripped a rival to only his name. Burning incense washed Akita for a hundred days for forgiveness. Then on the Year of the Dog (‘94) her only son gained inheritance.

ACHE | I have "aching" sir! This is from my Solo Leveling WIP, where I turn the RPG system into a horror thing.

But maybe he’s lying, part of him thinks. Not of his shoe size, but the pain. Maybe he’s numb to it—he is a hunter. He’s been poisoned, slashed, and burned. He’s had his ankles blown with fire magic, and his Achilles shred to ribbons. He’s known the eggshell, pasty color of every bone joint in his feet, by the courtesy of a dungeon slime and its acidic want for flesh. And every incident leaves him behind until he’s whole again with a bit of mana. Maybe he’s fucked then. Maybe he’s aching. But it’s only real to him if he believes it.

SICK | I've looked through 10+ projects and did not find a single instance where I've used "sick" in my writing. So you win this round sir!

BLUE | From a Blue Eye Samurai WIP that has very lush scene descriptions.

 “Float in the water, why don’t you. I’m sure the gods will find their mercy.” “That’s just bubbles on the water. But murder,”—a flash of blue—“is a riptide. Will you swim?” “Who’s to judge?” “Sui-ō.”

TREMBLE | I have a "tremors" sir! This is from a Link Click WIP that I wrote right after watching both seasons. I was emotionally messed up.

He sighs. He screams. He thrashes—on all fours. He tremors. He quakes. He plunges—to the floor. He’s a single flag above a graveyard. He’s hollow ground metres deep. He’s a casket set to burn. And he is incense—wafting. Of names. And houses. A school yard that doesn’t exist. A bike trail he still remembers inside a breath he mustn’t take. But he does—oh, he breathes. He is a fire on its knees, windswept and tenacious and a billowing thing of smoke. As if he’s ravaging on a hillside, nothing stops him when he breathes. And nothing tries to, either. Nothing lives here for the harvest.

#joey speaks #tagged #tag game #writeblr #writing community