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queers-gambit · 8 months

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Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

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Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

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Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel au #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes hurt/comfort

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bucketsofmonsters · 9 months

Text

On The Altar

cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time

male dragon x male knight x fem reader

word count: 12k

Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you.

You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did.

Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then.

You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really.

It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count

Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps.

You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task.

You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes.

You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe.

Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out.

Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time.

They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition.

You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes.

All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.

And the town saved.

They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them.

What a privilege it was to die for them.

You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out.

Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming.

You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall.

Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up.

You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you.

You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders.

And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes.

As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you.

It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into.

It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you.

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible.

You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative.

He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing.

You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact.

Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”

You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more.

You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind.

“Hello,” you responded.

Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature.

“You were out there to be taken, yes?”

Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world.

You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.

“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”

“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken.

“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”

“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”

“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”

You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice.

“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”

“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped.

The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”

“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”

It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand.

You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him.

He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”

“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”

He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”

Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t let them hurt you.”

You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish.

“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”

Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”

You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice.

You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff.

He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude.

“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.

“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself.

He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion.

“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.”

With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave.

He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language.

You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it.

As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it.

You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path.

You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return.

Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill.

You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall.

At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said.

“I can’t eat that.”

You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you.

“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.”

At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price.

He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”

He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs.

When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground.

“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”

“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home.

He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.

“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”

If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in.

“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”

You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.

You looked down at the sheep again.

Maybe not entirely alone.

He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back.

You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.

Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight.

As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”

You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food.

As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”

“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”

“They do. Just not me.”

You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”

You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”

The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different.

“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”

“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place.

“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”

“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”

You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”

Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”

You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”

“But not today?”

You shook your head. “Not today.”

“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”

You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all.

When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen.

Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you.

Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.

When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him.

You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering.

He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him.

You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.

It wasn’t much but it was all you had.

The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner.

Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much.

As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave.

You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept.

You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks.

“You’re still upset with me,” he noted.

“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”

“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.

“You did.”

“You’ll find a new ending someday.”

“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.

“You matter.”

You scoffed. “I did.”

“You do.”

You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”

“Goodnight, little human.”

You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe.

You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you.

“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was.

You slid away from him, back into the cold.

He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”

“I will not.”

You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin.

You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep.

You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side.

Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side.

You’d never slept better.

You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze.

“Good morning,” he said.

You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back.

You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right.

You pulled away from him, feeling sick.

Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable.

“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer.

You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”

He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him.

You didn’t.

“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”

“It just wasn’t meant to be."

“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out.

You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”

He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm.

You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”

And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you.

Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant.

“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”

You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday.

You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago.

“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”

His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”

A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now.

Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed.

Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again.

This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds.

Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy.

The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done.

He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him.

As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky.

Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways.

The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears.

You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen.

The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming.

You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty.

You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village.

As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you.

You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces.

“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak.

The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears.

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly?

“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”

The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”

You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”

“An example must be made.”

You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle.

“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.

You could barely think, barely hear his words.

The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it.

You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore.

It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left.

The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife.

It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more.

Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something.

A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head.

And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse.

Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist.

You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”

The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient.

Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted.

You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you.

Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for.

As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened.

He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him.

“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”

“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.

“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”

He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”

You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”

“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.

You refused it. It would be a waste anyways.

“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you?

“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”

“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”

“For what?”

“To be their sacrifice.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him.

It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be?

You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now?

Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?

The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home.

You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”

That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”

“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him.

“Phillip.”

You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking.

He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement.

He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes.

He returned in a few moments.

“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”

You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse.

It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get.

As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away.

It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight.

You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good.

You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean.

You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go.

You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?

Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever.

As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere.

You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed.

You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress.

You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.

He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm.

“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”

He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them.

No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off.

“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”

“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”

You shook your head again.

You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”

You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change.

A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises.

You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well.

The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option.

You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem.

As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree.

You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”

“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”

“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”

You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?

“I can drop you off at any other town.”

You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright.

He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew.

He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you.

He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it.

It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.

The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive.

Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it.

Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar.

It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.

You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it.

If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them.

Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.

You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing.

With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that.

You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”

“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”

“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”

You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”

The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path.

You took off in a dead sprint after him.

You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready.

You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place.

The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation.

Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be.

You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck.

Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”

You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you.

For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it.

He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp.

You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly.

Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight.

“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you.

You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make.

“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful.

You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot.

He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you.

You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”

He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.”

He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere.

And not a moment too soon.

The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze.

The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal.

You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.

You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”

“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”

You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man.

“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”

You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized.

“No. But… but you….”

“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”

“If he took you, how did you escape?”

“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case.

“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”

“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”

He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”

“And it’s not your choice to make.”

He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate.

Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did.

“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor.

“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt.

Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”

He nodded hesitantly.

Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”

“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”

The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”

You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”

“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”

Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”

You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”

“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”

You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”

“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred.

“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”

“Fine.”

Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”

You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”

“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be.

The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive.

“Pytho?” you called out.

He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”

“Could you go get some wood?”

“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off.

When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots.

You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime.

You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished.

You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth.

“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here.

He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”

“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him.

With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire.

You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”

He didn’t respond.

You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain.

A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him.

He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”

His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes.

“I wish I could do that.”

“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”

Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind.

You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”

He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”

You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home.

The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell.

What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten.

Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him.

“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.

He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for.

“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand.

“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky.

You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.”

There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest.

After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”

He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides.

With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.

You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him.

He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.

He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.

You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.

His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope.

You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did.

“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”

“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”

“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”

His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”

You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”

He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”

“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”

“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that.

“Don’t you get tired?”

“I never have the time.”

“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”

He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.

He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it.

Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place.

“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation.

“Yeah?”

“Where is my sword?” he asked.

You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”

“You what? Why?”

Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”

You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”

“Why?” asked Phillip.

“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”

“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”

“You already did attack him unprovoked.”

“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”

Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”

That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”

Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”

“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”

Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”

He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat.

“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest.

It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place.

“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”

Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope.

“What should I do?” he asked you quietly.

You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”

It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor.

His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.

He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him.

You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years.

His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there.

He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected.

With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong.

A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner.

You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.

“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”

You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment.

“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.”

You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”

“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”

You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.”

His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”

“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”

“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”

“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”

His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied.

Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”

“What?”

“That I never stop. That upsets you?”

You nodded. “It does.”

“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”

A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”

“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”

And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”

A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.”

Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it.

“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin.

“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice.

You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that.

And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you.

“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon.

The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell.

As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before.

Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it.

And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner.

You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you.

You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it.

He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face.

“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked.

“What?”

“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”

Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”

You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”

He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”

He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge.

You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue.

A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him.

You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him.

“What was that?” you asked quietly.

He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”

He nodded hesitantly.

“You kiss me all the time though.”

He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”

As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”

You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more.

You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw.

You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you.

You couldn’t be happier.

“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy.

And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his.

As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this.

“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”

His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before.

As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you.

He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go.

His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him.

You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was.

His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine.

His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream.

It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before.

His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go.

His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could.

You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat.

He was massive, probably a foot long.

“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.

The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate.

“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”

Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything.

Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall.

“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you.

He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at.

Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do.

He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.

So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho.

He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”

He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety.

You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly.

He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin.

You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin.

Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.

Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that.

You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”

The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped.

His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin.

You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides.

You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you.

“Please,” you asked.

He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard.

Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you.

Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch.

Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly.

“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture.

You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing.

You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust.

Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.

You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you.

As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip.

Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore.

You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt.

You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life.

Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”

“Plans change,” you said.

“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again.

You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you.

Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before.

Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water.

You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet.

It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind.

Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily.

As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon.

You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment.

He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything.

You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing.

“What?”

His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”

You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”

He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried.

“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”

He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”

He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”

“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”

Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”

It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like.

You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”

“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”

You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”

#terato #terato writing #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster bf #dragon x reader #dragon boyfriend #dragon #dragon bf #The cws on this are wild #Phillip’s armour set up is a little wonky compared to most real armour #I attribute this to his accursed knight status #Definitely not just for narrative ease #I would never #also I came up with this idea and then wrote the whole thing in like 6 days #Everyone say thank you ducky #lol

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creatingblackcharacters · 18 days

Text

Lesson 4: "Do Black People Blush?" Bringing brown complexions to life

Inspired by this ask

So, do Black people blush?

We are human beans 🤣! Blood rushes through our veins! This isn't just a nonblack misconception either; I know plenty of Black people who think we don't blush. Stop saying that shit. It's not true! If you thought this at any point, I'm glad you learned, TAKE THIS L IN SILENCE! I am sparing you the indignity of saying this out loud, ever! 🙏🏾

Jokes aside, the actual issue usually lies with the depiction or description. Depending on our skin tone, most of us aren’t going to turn ‘bright pink’ with a blush (if you write that in your y/n or roleplaying fics, that’s an easy way to negate a good amount of your potential Black audience). Think of a cherry coke- how you still see the tint of red in it, but it’s still brown? Like that.

One way to dodge this in writing is to say “flushed”, or “ears/cheeks became hot”. This is describing the physical action of blushing, without having to describe the color of someone’s face. If you’re really nervous about not writing us correctly via blushing… there you go!

Colorism

Okay. So this is something I’ll likely do its own lesson on, because there’s no way I could encapsulate it into one little blurb and I’m not going to try! After asking the internet an admittedly confusing question 😅, one thing I was able to reaffirm is that people have different opinions on what ‘dark’/’darker’ skin tones mean. People recognize that different cultural upbringings and contexts will change what that means! And that’s good- that an important part of the larger conversation!

However, I want everyone to understand that you don’t have to be Black to be dark/’darker’ skinned- you can be Black and very pale! We discussed that in the last lesson! There’s no ‘singular point of brown-ness’ that designates a Black person as ‘Black’- there’s an entire sociological conversation behind that!

My point is, this isn’t a ‘oh Black people OVERALL aren’t depicted blushing properly’- because there are ‘lighter’ skinned Black people that wouldn’t suffer as much from this particular issue.

Blushes and Undertones

Three Links for Tips on Medium to Deep Skintones

Different complexions are going to require different colors, there's not a 'one fits all' option. However! What we want to do for deeper brown complexions is to focus on BOLDER, not lighter! Putting light pink or a white person’s ‘nude’ on our skin will often make us look ashy and undercolored. And we don’t like looking ashy.

"It looks like they're ashy!"

What do we mean when we say this about a piece? Well, worse case scenario, it looks like this:

This was NOT one of KD’s better days, and he was thoroughly mocked for this. He got more than enough money for lotion! Anyway, when we say that your art looks ‘ashy’, it means that it feels like the skin of your Black character is gray, or dead. Like a corpse. We don’t look like that unless things are dire.

In fan and professional art, you can sometimes find people user a grey undertone for deeper shades of brown on Black people: NO! We are NOT grey! We are not pitch! Many skin shades of brown can be found based in the oranges and the reds. Based on lighting and depth of complexion, you might even have to go into the blues and purple to capture the brown you’re seeking.

I’m begging us to stop desaturating the browns we use. We can see the difference. It’s usually one of those ‘White Man Painted Brown’ techniques I discussed before; an attempt to ‘make a character Black’ without really committing to it because the brown skin tone ‘doesn’t look good’ to the artist. Brown is beautiful! Commit to brown! Commit to the full design!

Put in the work to create the brown you need!

While this is a traditional art piece (follow Ellie Mandy Art, a Black creator), I want you to notice how she incorporated many colors to create the deep brown for her piece.

-8:05 for the list of paints

-8:05-17:29 for the process

She used black, yes, but it was nowhere near the base color. She incorporated blues and reds and other browns to capture that depth. It wasn’t ‘toss in a bunch of black or grey to get the brown darker’. (SKIP TO THE END TO SEE HOW GOOD THIS PIECE IS, BTW. I felt like I was in the presence of a master watching her do this, fr. We gotta pay artists more.)

I want to use this model as an example to show that while we might get very dark, we're still not 'pitch black'. You can see the flat of the black of their clothes versus their deep complexion. They're not the same!

Even if your character's complexion is very deep brown into black, you still need to incorporate ‘life’ into them (if that makes sense). And you know what? Even if you want to describe your characters as having ‘black’ skin, that’s fine, but there are still other ways to do it- obsidian, the night sky, velvet. Find a way to romanticize our skin (there’s an entire conversation about how ‘black’ is used in a negative connotation in language and storytelling, and we’re ALSO going to have that conversation later!)

A Real Simple Way (i.e. how I do it)

I tried, but I cannot find my skin tones palette link anymore. I’m sorry! But, it’s been essential to my character design. If you don’t ever buy anything else, I would HIGHLY suggest investing in a skin tones palette for your art program.

Everyone say hello to Philia, my OC! I’m used to drawing her, so I’m going to use her as an example. Now remember, I am still an amateur! But this is how I do it!

Admittedly, I do the one on the left when I'm feeling lazy, but more often I'll take the time to do the one on the right. Now here’s the thing- I’m not actually blending the red into the brown. This is on a whole different layer. What I’m actually doing is adding to and fading the color until it’s at a color that I feel is natural. There's definitely an easier, smarter way to do this, but that’s what I like to do- I like to see the stages slowly until I’m comfortable.

You have to mess around and practice; see what looks good and what doesn't. Go into the reds, the oranges, the pinks and observe how it looks- I may go through multiple before I settle on one. It’s really just a matter of getting used to drawing Black skin tones and how they look in different lighting. This one's not perfect for sure.

Resources

Here are some really good posts and Youtube videos on how both to paint skin, and to add blush tones. And remember, as per my usual, the best way to learn how the draw and paint Black people is to follow and learn from Black artists! Another good idea might be looking into Black makeup and Black SFX makeup artists. As people that work with skin on a regular basis, they would be a good place to study what colors can and should be used on different skin colors as a whole.

ami0amii

Likelihood Art

Tiara Anderson

Proko

Sinix

Ross Draws

In summary, focus on bolder colors, be willing to test until you get what you need, and practice! All you can do to get better is to practice! And as always: it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black art #black artists #black character design

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catsgut · 5 months

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uhmm so… you asked for more scumbag!toji… i just… fucking his enemy’s (gojo’s) sister on gojo’s bed??? i’m sorry i’m thinking with my 😺 rn… even better if shes a virgin

THIS IS SO GOOD(ノ ̿ ̿ᴥ ̿ ̿)ノ you’re so smart hehe…. i made this kinda long? bc it was sm fun to write also i luv my baby so much i gotta treat her <3

warnings: drugs, geto and gojo are sleezey, toji is.. scummy, loss of virginity, SPITTTTT, dubcon kinda, size kink galore, blood, rough sex, UMMM INCEST SORTA HELLOOOOOOOOO

honestly, you didn’t care for your brother very much. he was condescending and didn’t have very good morals. you could tell his priorities were all wrong and twisted, but it was him or your parents, and you’d take satoru any day. at least he didn’t put almost impossible expectations on you. in fact, the only things he expected if you was to cover your share of rent and buy groceries.

and geto was nice enough. he, for some reason, was always up early enough to talk to you before you went to class. the conversations were normal for the most part, but the loud moans coming from his bedroom most nights were enough to keep you permanently pissed off at him. he seemed to think it was funny, constantly teasing you about how good he made “that bitch” feel. you couldn’t deny he was attractive, but he teased you too much to give it any thought.

you still went to college and tried your best to set yourself up for success, but it was hard when you had to come home to your man child brother and his equally immature roommate. the house constantly smelled like weed and you were worried it would stick to your clothes. you didn’t want anyone to get a bad impression of you, but of course that was impossible when satoru was your brother.

you knew they made most of their money through selling drugs, but you had no idea the extent to it. it wasn’t that they didnt want you to know, you were just always horded up in your bedroom whenever you weren’t in class. not once had you ever come out while they had people over, not wanting to have to hold a conversation with your brothers brain dead friends.

but tonight you just really had to use the bathroom. you tried your best to hold it, sucking the end of your pen and you tried putting your focus on studying, but as the time ticked on your bladder slowly started burning.

“fuck,” you groaned. maybe you could sneak into the bathroom without being noticed, so you put your house slippers on and slowly opened your door a crack. you could see geto sitting on the love seat facing another man sitting on the couch opposite of him. you hadn’t ever seen him before, but by the look of his back you could tell he was very big. his hair was dark and shoulders broad. they were talking in quiet voices, but the man sounded annoyed. you could slightly make out your brothers name being said in an aggravated tone.

tiptoeing into the hallway, you hurried into the bathroom and quietly shut the door. you didn’t know why your heartbeat was beating so hard, but nonetheless you were glad you made it into the bathroom unnoticed. you did your business and combed your fingers through your hair. looking into the mirror, you saw you looked tired with bags under your eyes. probably from all the sleepless nights studying.

quietly, you opened the bathroom door hoping they were still occupied with talking. not seeing anyone, you opened it fully and stepped out. you thought you were in the clear before you heard a voice.

“y/n?” geto called out from the living room, dread filling your body. shit. they never made you talk to any of the guests they invited over, so why now of all times? “yeah?” you called out, voice sounding small as you walked into the living room. the man was now facing you and you could make out a scar on his lips. he was handsome for sure, but looked scary, someone you should stay away from— you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your tummy.

“yeah, geto?” you asked again looking over at your roommate. he smiled sweetly, something that always threw you off. “have you heard from your brother at all? he owes toji here a lot of money, but we can’t seem to get a hold of him.”

you rolled your eyes. that sounded like satoru. “um he’s probably with a girl or somethin’,” you rubbed your clothed foot against your ankle.

“that’s too bad,” you heard geto say, but you weren’t really listening. looking back over at the man you saw he was no longer looking at you. you were able to get a better view of him, seeing just how big he was. his tight black shirt hugged his body nicely and he was pairing it with some grey sweatpants. his legs were spread out and part of you wished you were between him.

you looked back over at geto and saw he was grinning. he gestured over to toji with his eyes and winked. you could feel your face heating up in embarrassment. “well i have a paper to write… so uh goodnight.” you looked back to toji and smiled politely before going back into the safety of your bedroom.

that night when you laid in your bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about toji. he looked exactly like the type of man you should stay away from, but it was that very reason that had you grinding down on your pillow that night.

a couple days had past and you hadn’t heard from your brother. this wasn’t uncommon as he liked to lay low when someone was searching for him, so you brushed it off thinking it was just your brother being the typical asshole he was. geto seemed to be gone a lot, too. that was more uncommon, but non of your business. it was actually nice to have the house to yourself for once. you got some cleaning done and even got all caught up on homework.

you were currently sitting on the couch scrolling through your phone when there was a loud knock on the door. it startled you, but you got up to open it anyway thinking one of them misplaced their key (something that happened often.) what you weren’t expecting to see was an angry looking toji. “c-can um i help you?” you tried to sound nice but it just came out frightened.

“no, but gojo can. he home?” his voice was low and you wondered if satoru had really fucked up this time. this time you tried to muster up all your confidence saying “no, he isn’t home. you can go now,” but that only seemed to annoy him even more.

he shoved past you, yelling your brothers name. the sudden action made you stumble back in fear of what he was going to do to. you didn’t have it in you to fight back only telling him again that he wasn’t here.

“well i guess ill hang around till he gets back. your brother owes me money an’ im not leavin’ till i get somethin’.” he sat his large body on the couch and sighed. you watched him close his eyes and cross his arms as if he was going to sleep.

“would you like something to drink?” you didn’t know why you were trying to be nice to him after he clearly invited himself inside, but you couldn’t help but want his attention. not saying a word, his eyes opened and stared at you. “we have water and um juice.”

toji continued to stare at you only he was smiling now. it didn’t look friendly, but that feeling in the pit of your stomach slowly started to return. “how about you hang out with me over here,” he suggested, beckoning you one with his ring and middle finger. you didn’t understand, but he was making a motion that looked similar to fingering a girl.

nervously, you went over and sat next to him. despite the uneasy feeling you were getting, this was the most exciting thing you’ve done in a long time. you’ve never been this close to a man like him. the way he stared down at you made you feel small.

“man you’re cute, you sure you’re gojo’s sister?” he smiled and for a second he looked kind. you giggled nervously at his question feeling your face heat up. “um thank you.” the tension in the air was thick and you weren’t sure if you could keep this up. you knew it was wrong to let a man talk to you like this, but you were too scared to do anything about it. if anything, you wanted more.

“my brother might not be home for a while.” you heard yourself say while fidgeting with your fingers. “you can still um.. stay here though.” closing your eyes, you could feel his hot breath on the side of your face. it didn’t smell the best, but the wet patch growing in your panties distracted you.

“i don’t mind spendin’ some time with you, little girl.” you gulped and looked back up to his to see his face was only a couple inches from yours. you could understand that you brother absolutely did not like this man, but that didn’t stop you from closing your eyes when toji leaned in. you opened your mouth obediently, letting his big tongue dig around in it.

toji chuckled at your inexperience and grabbed at your thighs. they were squeezed together, trying desperately to get some friction. “damn you’re a little slut,” he groaned into your mouth. “lettin’ a stranger touch you like this.”

you whimpered when you felt his fingers get tangled in your hair. you couldn’t lie that this was exciting. for once in your life you felt so good doing something so bad. this man could be anyone, could do anything to you, but you were counting on it. in this moment, he could be a murderer and you would spread your little legs for him.

your tongue was hanging out from between your lips, drool dripping onto your lap. toji was kissing and biting the skin on your neck, one hand in your hair and the other lifting one of your legs to your chest. he leaned down to peak under your skirt and you watched him grin.

you brought your hands up to cover your face when toji got down on his knees and spread your legs. he pressed his tongue against your panties and sucked harshly. you peeked at him through your fingers, eyes wide in pleasure.

your fingers could never make you feel this good. your whole pussy was now on toji’s mouth. he was being so nasty the way his saliva soaked your panties.

“u-um can we go to the bed… please?” the thought of geto coming home and seeing you like this made you shiver. you would never be able to live it down.

“anything f’this pussy,” he laughed and scooped you up by your armpits. he carried you down the hallway with ease and into a random room. you instantly recognized it at satoru’s, but toji didn’t seem to care. his shirt was already off by the time he set you down and that was enough for you not to care either.

“look at you turnin’ into such a little whore.” you lifted your tank top over your tits to show him your lacey bra. trying your best to look seductive, you pulled your panties halfway down your thighs. toji didn’t seem to care about your little performance, though, instead forcing you on all fours. your face hit the comforter of satoru’s bed and you were suddenly aware of how real the situation was. you could smell your big brother as toji slid his fat tip up and down your pussy lips.

“w-wait m’not read-“ your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he pushed himself in all the way. with a loud groan, toji began force fucking you into the mattress.

this was sex? you’ve never felt this kind of pain in your life. “shit— you a virgin?” you heard him ask after seeing blood on his cock. he still didn’t slow down, instead picking up his pace. one thing about toji was he loved fucking girls dumb. especially, virgins.

your fingers reached up to grab a pillow to bury your face into. the sudden guilt of fucking this man in your brothers bed brought tears to your eyes. “ssstru,” you tried to moan out to your brother, eyes crossing when toji propped a foot on the bed to get deeper angle.

“ha! you really are a slut! moanin’ out your brothers name while i tear this pussy up.” you whimpered at his words knowing he was right. you couldn’t hide the fact you were close to your orgasm with the way your pussy was leaving a white ring around his cock.

“ah ah!” your moans filled the room as he rammed into you. you could tell he was close too when he leaned forward to press his big chest against your back. “gnna cum in this kitty,” he groaned in your ear before biting it. you tried to protest but he covered your mouth with a hand. not long after you felt warmth filling your insides. toji’s pace slowed as he fucked his cum in you, babbling about how he was going to “knock you up as pay back.”

you were too fucked out to care, though, laying there as he pulled out and stood. you listened to him wiping his dick off with a random shirt he found before dressing himself and leaving the room. you listened to him rummage through the living room, probably for cash or weed. you listened to the front door shut and then a few minutes later you heard it open again.

dread filled your body when familiar voices filled the hallway near the door. your legs hurt too much to move, so you braced yourself as the footsteps neared.

no one said anything, already knowing of the situation. you laid there, silently crying, back arched and bare ass exposed with cum leaking out of your pussy, while gojo and geto stood in the doorway. geto looked unbothered as he stepped closer to get a better look, the tent in his pants and obvious sign he liked what he saw.

gojo on the other hand looked furious. he knew toji was up to no good when he saw his smugly leave his front door, not even asking him for the money he owed. he knew he took something of similar value, just not that he took this.

his eyes traveled down to your lower half and he understood why geto wanted a better look. you looked so erotic with cum leaking out of your hole and red hand prints on your ass.

gojo turned around and walked out of the room in denial, but deep down, he knew there was no other explanation for the hardness in his pants.

#scumbag!geto #scumbag!toji #scumbag!gojo #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk toji smut #jjk toji x reader #tw.incest

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daisykihannie · 17 days

Text

What could go wrong? (H.JS)

pairing: succubus!Jisung x afab gn!reader

warnings: smut, NSFW, spit, squirting, choking, degradation, fucking demons, monster cock, slapping, blood, bdsm, etc.

"Come on Y/N! don't be such a coward~" your best friend Felix purred from his spot on your couch. He was watching you with a smirk as you stare down at the rustic looking book in your hands. The cover was tattered and the spine was disintegrating. The book was well worn from decades of use.

"Summoning demons? Felix this is-" your words died on your tongue, unable to think of an accurate way to describe the idea Felix chirped out as if it was the most common thing in the world.

"My dear best friend, you need to get laid and clearly you're not going to be bringing anyone home anytime soon. I've done it a couple times and honestly?" he paused momentarily, looking up at the ceiling. He seemed to be recalling some distant memory as a blush rose up the expanse of the pale skin of his neck reaching the tips of his ears.

"Lixie?" your voice rang out softly, unable to hide the slight quiver in the single word. Anxiety plaguing your senses as you awaited the blonde male to finish his sentence.

"It was some of the most mind-blowing sex I've ever had. That demon did things to me that isn't even possible for a human to accomplish." he hummed as his gaze met your again. You bit your bottom lip deep in thought as you gently moved the book around in your hands, fingertips fiddling with the fraying fabric of the cover.

"is- is it safe?" you asked, uncertainty still wrapping your words like a thick blanket, weighing them down so they were just a bit harder to force out of your vocal cords that felt tight in your throat.

"Y/N-ie..." he started before slowly climbing off the couch. His knees connecting with the cold surface of the hard word floors as he made his way to your side. You didn't move from your spot even when you felt his small warm hand land on your upper thigh, rubbing soothing circles against the bare skin that wasn't quite covered by your lounge shorts.

"I wouldn't even suggest the idea if I wasn't 100% confident that everything would be fine." you felt your shoulders relax at his comforting words. Your lungs were burning ever so slightly as you exhaled a breath you were unaware to be holding.

His eyes remained on you, searching your features for any unease. He truly only had the best intentions for you, noticing that you were so pent up that you couldn't focus on much of anything, getting aggravated and frustrated at the tiniest inconveniences. He just wanted you to relax, let go, and relieve all the built up stress for the past few weeks.

He had even offered to help you out on more than one occasion, just wanting to do anything to help you. It wasn't that you didn't want to sleep with him per say. He was insanely attractive, had a nice body with toned abs, and his voice could easily bring you to a state of euphoria on its own without any need to be touched. The problem was that he was your best friend. You saw him as just that, never really wanting to ruin that with any sexual or possible romantic feelings.

After a few moments of contemplating, you released your bottom lip from the vice grip of your teeth before nodding. "Okay, yeah. What could go wrong?" you giggled softly feeling a bit silly from being so anxious about the idea when Felix had done it more than once and was very clearly more than fine, sitting right next to you.

But, those were always someone's famous last words. When you ask that one question, the universe decides that if anything could go wrong then they will go wrong.

Felix stayed at your apartment for a couple more hours, watching movies together but eventually he left and it was just you and the book left alone. It remained in its spot on your coffee table, taunting you as you stared at it. Anxiety bubbling in your chest yet again at the thought of summoning a demon.

It didn't help your anxiety that you'd resorted to having to summon a demon to get laid. How pathetic was that? It's not that you couldn't go out to a random bar or club and bring a guy home but, it was just too tedious and potentially dangerous to do that. Funny how that was too dangerous in your mind but summoning a literal demon from hell wasn't.

You took a few deep breaths, calming the storm that was raging against your rib cage threatening to break through the skin. Once your heartbeat began to return to a normal rhythm, your finger tips curled gently around the worn cover, contemplating opening the book for the first time when your phone chimed.

The noice ringing through your far too quiet apartment caused you to yelp in surprise and jump far too much for your own liking. The book flying into the air a bit before landing into your lap. Clutching your chest, feeling your heart threatening to break free again you grabbed your phone from the other side of the couch to see a text message from Felix.

Unlocking your phone with shaking hands your eyes followed across the black lines of text on the illuminated screen that read "I forgot to tell you, do not- I repeat, DO NOT make the spell permanent. as long as you don't do that, everything will be fine." the text causing an ominous feeling to cocoon your body, breathing getting even harder in the now tense air that filled your apartment.

"It's fine Y/N... just fucking get it over with..." you mumbled in a weak attempt of giving yourself a pep talk but never the less, your fingers slipped under the hand cover again, finally opening the book. Your eyes skimmed over lines of English translations encompassing spells written in tongues.

Each page had a different spell, an illustration of the creature to be summoned, and descriptions of how to set up the spell and what each creature's purpose was. There were so many pages with entities you had no clue even existed, then your eyes landed on a page that was strikingly different from the rest.

This page had the title of "Succubus" and the writing was in red instead of black to match the previous pages. There were lewd sketches behind the written words, and warnings written along with the similar content of the other pages. What stood out was the big bold black lettering that read "SAFE WORD: ANGELIC" it was a bit ironic but fitting, surely the mention of anything holy would catch a demons attention.

A small chuckle fell for your lips at the silly thought of getting wrecked by a demon when the safe word is said, the demon recoiling in pain and hissing away from the summoner, the imagery similar to that of a horror film when an evil entity gets splashed with holy water or is faced with a cross.

Shaking your head softly, bringing yourself out of the comedic scene that played out in your head as you read every line thoroughly. Reading each word two to three times, dedicated to committing every tiny detail to memory to guarantee you don't fuck anything up.

Once you felt confident with the retained knowledge you let out a soft hum, feeling a lot less anxious than before. You were sure you couldn't fuck this up even if you tried.

(foreshadowing?)

Pulling yourself off your spot on the couch, you placed the book onto your hardwood floors, open to the necessary page and traveled through your home collecting the objects needed to perform the ritual. Humming a small tune as you skipped throughout the space, filling your arms before placing them in a small pile next to the book.

Realizing you didn't have enough space for the ritual you pushed your couch away from the center of the room till it hit a wall, the coffee table following in the opposite direction. Once you had enough space, you kneeled by your supplies reading over the book one more time before beginning to set up.

First step was to make a pentagram out of ashes, luckily you had a decently sized jar full of your incense ashes to use. The next step was to place a candle at each point of the star and one in the center. Then You were instructed to light each one with a match in a specific order, starting with the one at top point of the star and working your way around clockwise and ending with the center candle.

It specifically stated to not use a lighter, luckily there had been a box of matches in the back of one of the kitchen drawers when you moved in that you hadn't bothered to throw out. It was starting to feel a bit odd that you miraculously had every single item that was necessary but you brushed off the thought, continuing the ritual.

After the candles were lit, you had to recite the spell three times perfectly. That's the part that worried you a bit considering the spell was written in a foreign language but you were determined to pronounce every last syllable perfectly.

"Lastly, seal with deal with just a single drop of your blood" you repeated back to yourself from the book that lied open to your side. Picking up the sewing needle you'd found while on your scavenger hunt, using it to prick the soft, uncalloused flesh of your index finger, letting out the tiniest of hisses as a bead of crimson liquid formed on the skin.

Squeezing your finger under the pin prick causing more blood rushing out of the tiny wound, you held your finger above the center candle, high enough to not get burned but close enough to line the droplet up with the flickering yellow flame.

When your blood finally let gravity win, the droplet landed perfectly over the flame, snuffing out the fire before a large gust of wind blew through your home. Your lights went out and the force was strong enough to put out the rest of the candles, pushing any light weight furniture away from the pentagram, colliding with the walls with a loud echoing boom. The gust knocked objects off of the more solid surfaces, causing them to clatter against walls or to the floor.

It was even strong enough to throw your body back, causing your spine to collide with the edge of your couch, an oof being forced out of your chest at the contact and the air seemed to be sucked from your lungs. Once the wind was gone, your eyes shot back open to see your apartment in disarray, gasping to refill your lungs of the oxygen that was ripped from them.

Looking around the space, other than the effects of the wind, nothing was different. There wasn't a sex demon standing in front of you or really anywhere in sight. Confused eyes raked through your your surrounding to be met with nothing. It didn't work. Letting out a groan and rolling your eyes, you started restoring order to your living area.

Once everything was put back in their places you picked up your phone from it's location on your couch cushions before flopping onto the rough and plush surface. Unlocking your phone and opening your chat with Felix, you typed out a quick "didn't work, asshole. Can't believe I fell for your stupid prank." pressing send and turning your phone off again, a sigh escaped you as your body quickly felt far too heavy for your liking.

Your body felt like lead, truly and utterly exhausted. Your body was too heavy to lift any of your limbs as you drifted out of consciousness, the whole ordeal exerting far too much stress on your body than it could handle but that's nothing a long night of sleep couldn't fix. Finally giving in to the exhaustion, your body fell into the darkness of dreamland.

"Damn... what the fuck?" an unfamiliar voice rang through your home not reaching your brain in its unconscious state.

"Oh~? They're a cute one."

A groan slipped from deep within your soul as you began to wake up, stiff from the uncomfortable position you'd fallen asleep in on your couch. Your eyes remained screwed shut, not wanting to be awake at the moment but your body was screaming at you to ease the strain on your sore muscles.

You willed yourself to stretch out, baring resemblance to a cat as your arms reached out as far as possible above your head, legs mimicking the motion in the opposite direction. As you tried to turn your hips to finish off the most satisfying stretch of your life, they wouldn't move. It felt like they were pinned to the couch underneath you.

A groan of annoyance and confusion left your body at the incomplete stretch of your body, a huff escaping your lungs as your relaxed back down. Still not opening your eyes, not prepared for the blazing sunlight that threatened to seep through your eye lids as you attempted to roll to your side, yet again your hips didn't separate from the cushion underneath them.

"Can you stop fucking moving?" a growl filled your ears of an unfamiliar voice, sending a shiver across every nerve in your body. Alarms blaring in your head as your eyes shot open, flailing to get up as your fight or flight kicked in. The weight on your pelvis suddenly registering in your new found consciousness.

The weight remained unmoving as you looked down to see what the culprit of it was, seeing a heap of giant black...wings!? The adrenaline coursed through your veins, fueling your body to actually work. Pushing whatever the fuck was on your lap off of you with a strength you didn't know you had. A loud thud pierced your eardrums followed by a hiss as it made contact with the floor.

Only then being met with glowing pink orbs, piercing your soul and freezing you in place. It was a person? No. Not a person, people don't have giant black wings and a tail. People don't have eyes that glow neon pink. Your brain was desperately trying to comprehend what it was seeing, running a million miles a minute trying to come up with any realistic explanation for what you'd woken up to.

Unfortunately your brain wasn't making sense of the situation fast enough. The creature was standing up off the ground and rubbing their bare shoulder. Your eyes were frantically looking around your apartment which was still exactly how you'd left it the night prior, no evidence of a break in.

"Didn't I tell you to stop moving?" the creature growled again in annoyance, rolling the shoulder they seemed to have landed on, taking slow languid steps towards you. "Do you humans not know how to obey a fucking order?" the words brought your attention back to the creature closing in on you, your body instinctively backing away from the threat making it's way closer to you.

But of course your back hit the wall, inevitably corning you as they continued stalking closer. Your eyes scanned down the body in front of you, alarms going off in your head again for different reasons now. These alarms are the ones that finally got your mouth working.

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NAKED!?" that was definitely not the first thing you'd expected to ask the stranger. Literally anything else would've been a better thing to ask like, who are you? or how'd you get in my apartment? but no, you saw cock and your touch starved brain just needed to make note of it.

"That's the first thing your human brain decides to ask me?" the creature tsked in mocking, pausing their advances to chuckle. The fear in your eyes bringing them enjoyment, your body shaking only bringing more chuckles from their chest.

"N-no! who are you!? what are you doing in my apartment!? how did you even get in here!?" your brain started working out all the questions in your head at the same time, causing you to frantically blurt out your questions way too quickly for the other to respond.

"You humans really are as stupid as they say..." long, black, talon-like fingers carded through the long blue locks that nestled neatly on the top of their head with a sigh. You couldn't find a response, hoping the other would finally explain what was going on.

When the silence egged on for a bit too long the towering male finally spoke up again. "Do you forget that you literally summoned me forever ago before falling unconscious?" his eyebrow quirked up in questioning as last night's events began replaying in your brain.

"It- no. that didn't- it was a fucking prank, nothing happened last night." your gaze still refusing to meet his and you weren't sure if you were trying to convince the one in front of you or yourself with your words, neither working as the creature erupted into a sickly cackle, a chill running down your spine as you felt yourself start to break out into cold sweats.

This was so so wrong. This can't be real, you're still asleep right? RIGHT!?

"You wouldn't have a succubus standing in front of you if that was the case now would you doll?" his words made another shiver run down your spine. The tone was flirty, almost hypnotizing you as you felt your body begin to heat up. Eyes finally traveling from the floor, up the expanse of the other's body and to their face.

Your gazes locked together and no matter how hard you tried, no matter how loud your brain was screaming at you to run, you couldn't. You were locked in a trance caused by those glowing pink eyes that made you feel nauseatingly bare and vulnerable. It felt like your skin was ripped open and flipped inside out, showing the other every single thing you'd kept tucked away inside for no other soul to see.

Your soul was barren and exposed to the other, you could feel them inside your brain, pulling out every single thought, desire, and need you'd ever felt. You body was betraying you, stepping closer to the other as you lost control of yourself, handing it all over to this stranger, this thing, that so easily willed every single drop of control from your cells.

Your body felt like it was on fire, your brain turning into cotton candy, the voice of the other ringing in your head accompanied by your heartbeat that pounded loudly in your ears. "That's it~ just like that. Give it all to me. Every wish, every desire, every want, every need. Give me your lust and I'll serve you. I will be your sexual servant until the day I'm rewarded with that sweet soul of yours."

Before you knew it, those long black fingers wrapped around your jaw, talons digging into the flesh of your burning cheeks forcing your mouth open. Your gazes never breaking as he took complete control of your psyche, senses flooding with nothing but him.

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, the pink wet muscle twitching for the other as they leaning in closer and closer. Your pupils were blown wide as the taller male stuck his own tongue out and it began to tangle with yours, ripping a submitting whimper from somewhere deep inside of you, your body fully submitting to the entity that ripped all control from your being.

Your gazes remained locked on eachother as drool began spilling from your mouths, creating glistening trails down the hand that remanded wrapped around your jaw. The dance of your tongues pulling heaving breaths from your chest as your lips finally connected and you felt your body shaking, almost vibrating in the grip of the other.

The long sleek black tail encompassed your waist in a vice grip as the kiss grew more heated, more desperate as your lips clashed together fighting against one another. Then the demon shut his eyes, breaking the trance you were trapped in and your body gave out. Every muscle burned and your body trembled as all the strength left you, the only thing keeping you from melting to the floor was that tail that'd locked around your waist.

Breaking the connection between the two of you, ripping his lips from yours. A messy string of saliva keeping you two connected for just a moment longer before the other used their tail to ease you to the ground. Your body convulsed as if you'd just had the most intense orgasm of your life.

Your chest heaved in a desperate attempt to recover the oxygen that you'd been deprived of in that mind frying exchange that left you barely hanging onto your own consciousness. Your limbs were buzzing as you remained in a puddle on the floor. You were left as just a fraction of what you once were, a searing pain on your tongue barely registering in your brain as you fought to recover. Inevitably losing the battle and slipping back into a state of unconsciousness.

The demon watched as you finally gave into the rest your body desperately needed, your fight lasting significantly longer than any of the other humans he's dealt with in the past. This causing his interest to peak as he crouched down to your still trembling but unconscious form. His fingers pushing the hair that stuck to the sweat on your face back, feeling something new as he gazed at your beauty.

"You're a special one aren't you..." he hummed, asking nobody in the silent apartment since he knew you couldn't answer. He wasn't sure what the feeling was that coursed through his veins. It was something new, something special that he'd never experienced in his eternity as a succubus and in that moment, he knew he was fucked.

Your body felt even heavier as you stirred, waking up from what felt like a month long coma. Your brain began to recall the last two times you were conscious, memories causing you to shoot up from where you lay, looking around frantically trying to gather yourself.

Instead of waking up on the floor, you were in your bed and you were alone. Everything seemed normal as you concluded that everything that had happened was just a horrible nightmare. Letting out a sigh of relief, relaxing further into the safety of the plush blankets that encompassed your body and nuzzling into to comfort of your mattress.

Unfortunately that comfort didn't last long as you suddenly felt really really hot. Throwing the blankets off your body trying to cool off with the air of your ceiling fan cascading across your clammy, sweat covered, flesh but you just kept feeling hotter and hotter. Ripping the clothes off your body also did nothing to satiate the heat that was radiating off of you, a frustrated whimper escaping your throat through clenched teeth.

You screwed your eyes shut in frustration, using your hands to wipe off the sweat that continued to drench your skin. The stinky feeling of being drenched in sweat was just frustrating you more as your sheets stuck to your skin. You continued writhing around desperately in agony, needing some form of relief from the heat that kept building, wet hot tears streaming down your cheeks now.

You finally decided to climb out of bed and take an ice cold shower as a final attempt to cool off, but as soon as you stood up and put your weight on your feet you were hit with a dizziness you'd never experienced before. It felt like your insides were boiling as you crumpled to the floor, the spinning in your head racking your body with overwhelming nausea.

Suddenly your bedroom door flew open and your vision continued spinning as you looked up to see none other than the demon standing in the doorway. Your expression displaying your anguish as the demon leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly with muscular arms crossed across the expanse of his broad, muscular chest. A groan ripped through you, followed by a gag as the male's form wavered back and forth in your vision.

You clutched your stomach, your finger nails digging deeply into the flesh, far too uncomfortable in your own skin. Unfortunately your stomach was too empty from not eating in two days to actually expel anything from it as your dry heaved. You were clawing at the rug under your knees with the hand that held your body up, the other hand still digging into the flesh at your side.

You were fucking desperate to stop feeling everything. To calm the storm of nausea and to stop the searing heat inside your organs. All you felt was disparity.

As if he could read your mind, the succubus approached you and got on his knees on the floor in front of you before scooped you into his arms. He wrapped himself tightly around you, his skin was ice cold as he tried to cover as much of your flesh as he could with his own to cool you off. You were already beginning to feel some relief from the heat but your insides still felt like they were boiling.

A desperate whine escaped you, tears still steadily pouring down your face as your frantically nuzzled into the coldness that was the demon. Surely you looked like a drug addict going through withdrawal as your nails dug into the tan skin of the other, leaving bright red streaks all over the previously pristine skin.

Your brain was everywhere but also no where at the same time, you felt like a feral animal, writhing in pain and clawing at everything your nails came into contact with but the demons grip never wavered and never loosened as he held you tightly against him.

"Hot... so- so hot... please... s-stop it..." you were babbling at this point, not even sure if your words even came out coherently. "Shhhhh my sweet, I know. I know. I'm sorry." the demon's words seemed painfully sincere and his grip remained firm. He genuinely seemed to want to make it stop, soft hisses escaping his lips as your nails drew blood.

The whirring and buzzing in your head was so loud and you truly felt like your sanity was slipping. You couldn't focus on anything other than the need to cool down, when suddenly you were pulled into a firm kiss. His lips locked with yours as they moved together lazily and your body began to still. Your mind was finally quiet, the buzzing stopping completely as the demon's tongue filled your mouth, and began licking at every surface it could reach, causing your body to finally cool down.

Your insides no longer felt like they were boiling as the calm feeling took over you. It felt like you'd escaped an inferno just to be plunged into the deepest part of the ice blue ocean. A whimper of relief was swallowed by the demons mouth as his tight grip remained. You turned in his lap to straddle the strong muscles of his thighs, not breaking the languid kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck keeping your half lidded eyes locked on the demon.

With your mind and body finally settled, you were finally able to admire his beauty. He had long black eyelashes that rested softly on the tan skin of his cheeks and his eyebrows were beautifully straight and well kept. His midnight blue hair contrasted perfectly against the tan skin that was void of any imperfections. Pulling away from the kiss and panting heavily, your mouth remained parted slightly as your eyes traveled down the expanse of his facial features.

He had such a soft and round button nose and his cheeks were puffy, resemblance uncanny to a squirrel or chipmunk. His lips were spit slicked, red, and swollen from the kissing and he had a soft jawline that made him look far too cute for a demon. His eyes fluttered open to meet your glassy ones, the pink wasn't as intense as your first meeting. They seemed hazy and darker, the color look closer to a magenta than the blazing hot pink from before.

"It's lust. I'm a demon of lust and after we sealed the contract, your lust that you kept pent up poured out at full intensity. It normally isn't this bad but I guess you've been keeping it at bay for far too long." his voice was soothing as he explained what had happened to your body. The voice no longer emitting panic from you and instead replacing that with a serene type of calm. This demon was completely different than before. He seemed almost... tamed?

You hummed at the new information, your brain still a bit hazy as your hips began rolling slowly across the demons still bare cock, now making you realize that you were also completely naked as the rock hard cock slipped between your folds. Your arousal slicking up the long expanse of his shaft.

The fucked out expression still on your face as you stared at him with so much need and intensity that he felt his breath hitch. His was cock twitching in response to your movements and pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves causing your body to jolt slightly. A whimper of pure need slipped past your swollen lips as your lashes fluttered slightly, not wanting to let your eyes close so you could keep admiring the pretty demon in front of you.

"Well, why don't you help me out with my lust and service me? My pretty demon." you hummed as your hips began to pick up their pace ever so slightly. The cock resting beautifully between your folds was drenched in your juices and the fluids began cascading further past where you were connecting, coating the muscular thighs in them as well. Sloppy wet sounds filling the room as his cock continued to slip against your core and you continued rolling your hips against it. The lewd and sloppy sounds causing goosebumps to erupt along your skin in arousal.

"Jisung. My name is jisung." the demon purred as the hands resting on your hips tightened into a bruising grip slightly guiding your hips and sharp pricks from his claws barely braking the skin causing you to hiss and arch your back. You were so sensitive and so desperate that you began to drool all over your chin and down the male's chest.

"God, you're such a messy slut for me. So fucking filthy." his words had venom laced through them that embarrassingly made you whimper, your hips starting to stutter as the still sore muscles in your thighs began to burn. Jisung must've noticed your struggling because in a flash he had your positions swapped, pinning you to the floor keeping his cock flush against you, not letting it slip in just yet.

The long slender fingers left their places on your hips, one hand planted firmly next to your head to keep the larger male above you as the other snaked up your sides. Razor-like claws stinging as they painted long red marks up your skin before lightly grazing across your collarbone. The digits wrapping eerily around your throat, pinning you filmy to the ground.

The grip was strong but not strong enough to cut off airflow, just enough to cause you to go lightheaded, a whine ripping through you as the demon kept his hips still. Your desperation causing you to plant your feet firmly to the floor and begin frantically grinding up against the cock that remained nestled between your folds.

"p-please... ji-sung...." you gasped and choked out, eyes pleading with the seemingly unfazed demon. His poker face was unbroken but he was fighting his own battle to keep from ripping you in half on his cock, having his way with you. and making you scream for him.

"But you're doing such a good job fucking yourself against my cock. Go on doll, use me to fall apart." he said before shifting his weight to be supported by his thighs as a sharp smack landed on your cheek, the sting settling into the reddening skin before another one followed in the exact same spot.

You were about to beg to be filled when your hips began to convulse, eyes rolling back as a silent scream ripped through your chest. You were cumming harder than you've ever cum in your entire life. Squirting all over the tan skin and tensing muscles as the demon rolled his hips to coax you through it.

"That's it, that's my pretty slut, covering me with your cum from getting slapped. Such a good fucking whore." his final sentence came out as a growl through clenched teeth. The sound was primal, almost animalistic and it only spurred you to keep cumming harder.

Your hole fluttered desperately around nothing as your thighs began to shake, body hitting the floor as you came down from your orgasm. The hand on your throat unwrapped itself and the demon sat back on his haunches watching your body twitch in bliss. His cock still painfully hard when you came to.

Seeing his rock hard cock still drenched in your orgasm, his abs glistening as your fluids cascaded down, and the sloppy wet mess you'd made of the demon made you need more. You were left panting on the floor as your trembling fingers wrapped around the backs of your thighs, spreading yourself open for the demon, your hole still fluttering and grasping around nothing and needing to be filled.

"Come on Sungie~ I can take it. Fill me with you cum, please?" you purred and you could see his eyes change. That feral hot pink flashing over the darker magenta color, seemingly fighting his urges as his eyes remained locked on your sloppy hole.

"Don't fight it su-AH!" you didn't get a chance to finish your sentence as the demon bottomed out inside of you, the burning stretch of his huge cock making you scream but your screaming only seemed to spur him on further as his hips began slamming into you.

His hips were immediately relentless as he jack hammered into you, his cock so big it caused a bulge to form in your belly every time he bottomed out. Gutteral growls and grunts erupted from the demons throat as his talons dug into your hips, holding you in place. "Oh fuck- so fucking sloppy and tight-" he growled, his hips never fathering.

The pain of the stretch and overstimulation mixing with the pleasure of his cock stretching your walls and abusing your sweet spot was so overwhelming. Your nails were digging into the muscles of Jisung's back, sure to draw blood as you continued screaming out for the other.

"fuck! oh my- ngggghhh! Ji- fuck! sung!" you couldn't form a coherent sentence if you tried, it all felt too good as you were practically split open on the monstrous cock. Your back was arching off the ground harshly as he leaned forward, both your chests flushed together and you could feel his sharp canines dragging against the soft skin along the column of your neck.

"You said you could take it didn't you? come in doll~ don't make me make you eat your words." his voice was deep, causing chills to run along your skin as wanton moans continued to escape you. The knot in your stomach snapping once again as you clamped tightly around the cock buried deep inside of you, earning a hiss from the demon who's pace remained bruising.

"So fucking tight- squeezing my cock so good like the fucking whore you are." the demon pushed himself back up one one hand to stare down at your fucked out expression as you were slammed back into overstimulation after your second orgasm, the demon not stopping anytime soon.

His free hand moved up your body to grab your jaw again, pushing his fingers into your cheeks to force your teeth to separate and your mouth to open wide for him. Drool was all over your cheeks and your chin, covering the hand that held your mouth open.

"Such a sloppy bitch. I fucking love it~" his words caused your stomach to tighten and your hole to clench around him again, eliciting another deep moan from him. "Such a good fucking whore, you were made to take this fucking cock weren't you?" his sentence ended with him spitting on that sloppy pink muscle in your mouth and a broken whimper left your body.

"f-f-fuck... I'm... ngggghhh" you couldn't even tell the demon you were gonna cum again before you were convulsing on his cock again. Overstimulation becoming way too much for your body that was vibrating and trembling and your brain was melted into a puddle.

"I'm gonna stuff you full of my fucking cum, you better take it all like a good fucking Fleshlight." he grunted out, you weren't coherent enough to respond as the hand holding your mouth open wrapped around your throat again, squeezing the sides to cut off blood flow and bring you that euphoric dizzy feeling again.

He continued to abuse your hole as he approached his own orgasm. You clenched your teeth as your back arched off the ground again, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth as you were fucked silly by the demon. One of your hands wrapped around the wrist that held you by your throat, nails digging into the unmarked flesh in an attempt to keep yourself conscious.

Your other hand clawed at the muscles in his back again before becoming a tight fist with whitening knuckles as your repeatedly punched the demon in the side and back, far too overwhelmed to go any longer. "My slut feeling so good she can't handle it? Have to hit me to keep from going brain dead huh? Demon cock too much to handle doll?" his words were mocking, rubbing it in that he did in fact make you eat your words.

Luckily after just a couple more slams into you, his movements stilled as his cock twitched deep inside you. Hot white ropes painted your insides, his cock filling you so much that his cum had nowhere to go as it slipped out from around his cock where you clamped around him again and you were wrecked by a fourth orgasm. His hips were barely moving in and out as he rode out his high, causing more cum to leak out from where the two of you were connected.

Once his orgasm ended he slowly pulled out of you, a whine escaping you as you continued convulsing on the floor. His cum was leaking out of your stretched out hole and mixing with the fluids of your own orgasm, both of your sweat, your droll and spit, and other bodily fluids that covered both of you and formed a puddle on the floor.

You your panting heavily, brain still melted and you felt the demon scoop you up from the floor. You weren't lucid enough after the fuck of your life to say, do, or think anything as you lay limp in his arms. Next thing you could feel was water encompassing your body and a rag was being dragged along your sticky flesh. Your eyes remained shut, still unable to register much of anything happening. It felt like you were outside of you body, watching the demon care for you.

For a sex demon, Jisung was awfully sweet after the contract was sealed. He gave you a bath and took his own with you, having your back pressed against his chest as he held you up in the water and cleaned you up. He did a very thorough job of getting every sticky fluid off of your body and out of any crevices it could've ended up, even shampooing your hair twice to get everything out of it.

After the bath, he wrapped a towel around his hips and dried you off with a towel of your own before carrying you bridal style to your bed which luckily stayed clean due to fucking on the floor. He planted you softly in the bed and wrapped you up in your blankets. Next, he removed the towel wrapped around his waist and used it to ruffle his wet hair once again, drying it off as much as possible before using it to clean up the floor.

You watched him through half lidded eyes, vision still hazy as he cleaned up the mess. When you saw him turn to leave, your shaking hand wrapped around his ice cold wrist causing the demon to look at you. "D-don't go... s-stay?" your voice was so small and fragile as you pleaded with the demon.

You couldn't see it but his cheeks heated up at your adorable actions, a funny feeling in his chest and his heart beating a bit faster. Even if he wanted to say no, which he definitely did not, how could he when you looked at him with a pout on your lips and those sparkly puppy dog eyes.

Letting out a fake annoyed sigh, he climbed into the bed behind you, spooning your smaller frame. He stayed above the covers, still completely naked but luckily you'd gotten use to the fact that the demon never wore any clothes. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against his strong form, holding you tightly as you fell asleep.

Once your soft snores filled the room and your chest rose and fell rhythmically as you breathed deeper, he knew you were asleep. He carded his fingers through your hair and took a moment to just admire how stunning you were, pout still on your lips as you slept and that strange fluttery feeling filled his chest again.

"How the hell am I supposed to say goodbye to you and take that beautiful soul..." he mumbled to himself, now fully aware of just how fucked he truly was and it was all because of you. A beautiful human who was perfect inside and out. "...I just had to go and get tamed by a stupid human." he mumbled but the expression on his face contradicted his cold words. The fond smile on his lips and the sparkle in his eyes when he gazed at you told a completely different story.

I fear I may have girlbossed too close to the sun with this one. I was getting myself worked up while writing this filth.

I'm contemplating making a part two where this kinda turns into a love story and maybe even make it a full story instead of just a one shot. Lmk if you'd be interested in me continuing this~

#skz smut #skz #skz imagines #stray kids #skz x reader #daisyhannie #straykids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz han #han smut #skz jisung #han jisung #han jisung smut #han x reader #han jisung x reader

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stargirlrchive · 5 months

Note

hiii <3 💌 just thinking about how Price would pull you into his lap and bounce his leg while doing paperwork at his desk—you’re overstimulated and the friction of his canvas pants and your bare clit making you whine, him chuckling and hushing you so he can focus on his reports :((

cw: john price x fem!reader, thigh riding, no use of y/n

petnames used: bunny, doll, girl (atta girl), brat

nonnie i hope u like this <33

price rarely ever took his work back home. unless it was absolutely necessary. much like today, he had a stack of paperwork he had been pushing aside but deadlines were approaching and he needed to get this done.

only problem was you. his pretty little bunny.

when you walked into his office in nothing but his shirt he knew you’d be distracting him. the way your thighs clenched together as you shifted from foot to foot.

mumbling about how you wanted him to go to bed with you.

and he wished he could, especially when you sat yourself on the edge of his desk and spread your legs to show him just how wet you were.

there was nothing obstructing his view, just your fingers gently rolling against your puffy clit.

“please, john. come to bed with me.”

his fingers gripped at your wrist to stop you, tugging you onto him until your legs straddled one of his thigh.

“can’t, doll. gotta finish this up.”

and you really couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of your mouth, “you never have time for me anymore.”

and john felt his stomach clench as you turned your face away from him. one hand reached out for your chin to tilt your face back to him.

and the site before him had him cooing at you, your cheeks felt hot under his fingers, eyes red rimmed and sad. his other hand gripped onto your hip to pull you closer onto him but a warbled gasp left your mouth.

your thighs tightened around him, rocking forward before halting as if you didn’t know whether to grind yourself against him or not.

you were still trying to be upset.

he huffed out a laugh, tightening his hold on your chin as he lazily rocked your hips down onto his toned thigh.

“you know i never bring work home, doll. s’not that i’m trying to push you away.”

you huffed, arms crossed over your chest as you refused to look at him. the rough texture of his pants pressed right against your puffy clit was making you lose focus.

“how about you ride my thigh while i finish this up, hm?”

that made your flicker back to his and he had a knowing smile on his face, “then i’m all yours, yeah?”

he didn’t give you time to protest, not that you would, but he pushed the two of you closer to his desk. the hard wood pressed against the dip of your back, your chest pressed to his as he lazily guided you down against the taut muscle of his thigh.

“jus’ gotta wrap this up, love. take y’r time.”

and he could sense how much you were trying to restrain yourself. still trying to prove you were upset. but with a couple bounces of his knee your hips picked up pace.

huffing and forcing yourself to keep quiet as you began to rut your clit against him. he could feel how wet you were. and his fingers itched to dig into your hips and just sit you on his cock.

but he had a deadline. and not even this could distract him from that.

or so he thought, blood rushed to his cock when your face tucked into his neck and the pretty sounds leaving your mouth began to grow louder.

“gotta keep quiet, bunny. m’busy.”

and your movements grew more desperate at the sound of his voice. grinding down against his thigh, rubbing your bare pussy all along the rough canvas of his pants.

your fingers had begun to fist at his shirt, whining softly each time he bounced his leg beneath you. you rolled down harder. delivering shallow little thrust to provide perfect stimulation to your clit.

john’s fingers had tightened around his pen, reading the words over and over as he tried to focus. but he could feel the warmth and wetness of your cunt on his thigh and all he wanted to do was bury himself inside of you.

he took a deep breath, reading over the same sentence for the fifth time as he tried to retain the information, but to no avail.

your body tensed and price abandoned his work in that instant. both of his thick hands gripping at your waist as he pushed you down harder against his thigh.

a soft cry left your mouth as you came, his fingers massaging your hips as he continued to rock you against him.

“atta girl.”

you were panting and breathless by the end of it, john tucking you into him once again as he resumed on his paperwork.

you were about to shift your hips, your clit aching and puffy, but he delivered a soft pinch to your hip.

“keep working yourself on my thigh. you don’t get off so easily for being a brat and distracting me.”

#john price #john price x reader #john price x reader smut #john price x female reader #call of duty #cod

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catboyieejeno · 1 year

Text

nct dream reaction ¡! ❞

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

content: smut, cursing, mature, pet names (baby, babe, doll, etc.)

18+ ! minors do not interact

masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mark lee

mark had spent the last few hours hunched over the soundboard, paper and pen clutched in hand as he racked his brain for something, anything that would make the verse he was writing not entirely dull. but it was so hard to think, to conjure a single logical or productive thought, when you were sat right beside him, doing what you were.

your fingertips are scratching at his scalp, right above the nape of his neck. meanwhile, your other hand busies itself on his thigh, nails tracing random shapes over the material his sweats. frustrated, tired, and in a haze of unorganized thoughts and ideas, mark rolls his head back into the palm of your hand with a low hiss.

“something about this verse doesn't sound right,"

"i think you've just been looking at it too long," you press your lips softly into his cheek and he sighs at the feeling.

"maybe," hums mark, "i just want to finish already,"

"what if,” you whisper, “you take a break for a few minutes, that way you can look at it with new eyes, find out what’s wrong with it.”

the feeling of your breath on the shell of his ear makes his hair stand on end. the bare minimum— that’s all you have to do and you have mark’s head spinning, analyzing whether or not your alleged ‘break’ really implied something else. immediately, he feels the blood rush to his-

what is he doing? he needs to keep working on the song.

he shakes his head. mark readjusts his pants, but the gesture doesn't go unnoticed by you. you're quick to catch the way he fixes himself and wipes the sweat off his palms. “babe,” he tries.

“yes?” your voice is sweet and airy, resembling a pant, with fingers lightly trailing his waistline.

“baby.” there’s an underlying warning to his tone this time; nevertheless, you can sense the bit of desperation he fails to hide.

with your thumb, you lift the waistband and slip your hand inside in one smooth motion. at the same time, your lips attach to his neck.

"i need to finish the song," his head tilts to make space for you, contradicting his words, and you smirk against his skin as you feel him gulp.

"you need a break, baby,"

"mmph," why did you have him so hooked, "no, i need to work-"

"then work," you place your hand on him over his underwear, "no one's stopping you,"

you're giving his bulge a squeeze, teeth grazing his neck, when mark mentally thanks the heavens that he's sitting. otherwise, he's sure his knees would've given out.

"yeah, but," he gasps, "i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ huang renjun

"jun,"

renjun hums in response, not looking up from the book on his chest. he's lying down, eyes scanning the text on the pages while his other hand rests on his stomach, fingers bouncing mindlessly.

with a pout settled on your bottom lip, you sit beside him on your knees, practically begging for any bit of his attention.

all of your attempts to divert his focus away from that damned book have been overlooked. you tried changing your shirt, toying with your bra, and nothing. he didn't even bother to try and sneak a glance when you pulled up your skirt, flashing your pink panties at him.

it was all getting rather annoying.

daringly, your place your hand over his, maneuvering it slowly down until you stop right over his crotch.

"tsk tsk," he moves his hand back up, "what are you doing?"

"junnie," you mewl, fingers tracing the outline of him.

he remains unmoving until you decide you've had enough. when your hand goes into his pants, his lips part slightly, sharply drawing in a breath, and his eyes finally break away from the page to look at you. they're wide open in shock.

"i've been trying to get your attention for the last 20 minutes,"

"well, you should've just asked." he laughs, sounding a little cocky. your eyes narrow at him when he speaks again, "i'll make it up to you, baby," when he goes to close the book, you stop the motion of your wrist, a devilish idea coming to mind.

"no,"

"what?"

"i want you to keep reading," you say matter-of-factly. he's taken aback when your strokes get bolder and you feel him getting harder in your hand, "since you didn't want to pay any attention to me, you can keep reading."

"but i wanna make you feel good-"

"keep reading or i'll stop."

renjun picks up his book hurriedly and flips it open to where he left off. this time, when you pull your shirt off, his eyes are roaming your skin rather than the words of his novel, shallow breaths leaving his parted lips.

he's fully hard now, a flustered mess, uttering whispered pleas of your name.

"baby, that feels so-" he whines quietly.

"focus on your book."

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck." his hips buck up into your hand, book falling to the side as he comes into your fist.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lee jeno

about five minutes ago, you were cursing the day you ever let your boyfriend talk you into working out with him.

jeno is normally sweet, shy, affectionate, considerate, but for some reason, when he steps through the doors of the gym, he discovers each and every new way to push all of your buttons.

he’d try to… encourage you throughout your routine, which resulted in you guys bickering the whole way home because he “just couldn’t let you do it at your own pace.” that, or he’d all-together forget about you until he was done with his own work out, headphones plugged in and blasting for 2, sometimes even 3 hours.

tonight, he had dragged you to a small gym that he claimed had less people, for your comfort and his privacy as an idol, and while that was true, you couldn’t help but think to yourself, of course there’s going to be less people— no one is at the gym at two in the fucking morning.

now, however, you’re leaning against the wall, fully over even attempting to finish your work out, watching as jeno does his usual bicep curls in nothing but his tiny black shorts and a matching tank that is skin-tight.

his jaw is locked and tense, face twisting as he strains while pulling up the weights during the rep. sweat makes the ends of his hair stick to his forehead, and when he’s done, he huffs, chest heaving. even the way he grabs his water to gulp it down is messing with your head.

yeah… maybe you didn’t hate the gym that much.

you don’t know what’s different about today, but you’ve been rubbing your thighs together for the last 30 minutes, hoping he’d announce soon that he’s close to done. when that moment never comes, you take matters into your own hands.

“hi, jen,” you stride over to him, a sly smile playing at your lips.

“hey, pretty baby. i’m almost finished, i just have to do-“

blatantly disregarding what he was talking about, you lean in until your lips are kissing the corner of his, “i can’t watch you work out anymore,” you whine, “it’s driving me crazy,”

confused and oblivious as ever, jeno pulls his eyebrows together, “well, i’m sorry, i thought you liked coming here with me-“

“not that kind of crazy, love,” your hand grabs his, guiding it between your legs, “the kind where i want you to bend me over any piece of equipment in here.”

“w-wha-well, i uhm-“

he swallows thickly when you bring your other hand into his shorts, grabbing his dick and pumping it a few times. his hand stays between your legs, though he doesn’t move.

“baby, i promise,” he pants, “this is my last set and then i’m taking you home and we can-“

“why can’t we do it here?”

“are you insane? what if somebody comes in? i have-shit- i have one more set and- ohh, aah-“

“jeno?”

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

jeno’s arm flies back to lean his weight against whatever machine is behind him, trying to stay upright. his fingers finally start moving, rubbing some much needed friction to the spot between your legs. his brain has become mush in less than 2 minutes, lost in the pleasure that you’re giving him. his work out is long forgotten as he groans out your name.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lee donghyuck

"you can't sleep with your makeup on, doll," hyuck grumbles, "stop fighting me on this,"

he straddles your lap to keep you from wiggling around, hovering over you with a make-up removing wipe wrapped between his long fingers.

his cheeks are a delicious shade of red, shiny from the sheer layer of sweat that covers his pretty features. he looks boyish and unruly, hair falling messily over his glossed-over eyes as they stare into your own.

your face is surely mirroring his, flushed from all of the drinks in your system. what started as a date night with your boyfriend ended with you having close to a bottle and half of wine each, not that you’re complaining. his body is warm above yours, clouding your judgement more than the alcohol ever could. greedily, your hands wander up his thighs.

hyuck is rambling and slurring distractedly, using the scented wipe to gently swipe away the remnants of product from under your eyes, "it's not good for your skin if you leave your makeup on, you know that-" you can't even focus on what he's lecturing you on because his lips are stained red from the wine, and he seems to have been licking them, given how wet they are.

"hyuck, baby."

"-yes?"

you pucker up your lips, "give me a kiss."

he complies with a cheeky smile, mouth molding obediently against yours. he lets out a throaty moan at your affection.

your fingers fly to the button on his jeans, undoing them. hyuck quickly pulls back, “baby, let me take off your makeup first,”

“but i wanna feel you,” you mumble innocently, hands reaching for the hem of his underwear.

“oh, believe me,” as maliciously as ever, he tongues his cheek, eyebrows wiggling, “you will.”

working as fast and gently as possible, he continues to wipe your face, jaw tightening as you grope him, “hmm, y/n.”

“what’s wrong, baby?”

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck." his head falls into the crook of your shoulder and he shudders at the feeling of your cool hands wrapping around his base. under your palm, you feel him twitch, but hyuck is determined to remain unfazed and not engage in your little game until he’s done.

he composes himself and sighs. another wipe is taken from the pack, softly cleaning your forehead and cheeks.

“shit–alright,” he seethes as you squeeze his tip. hyuck tosses the wipe aside, grunting. your boyfriend roughly grabs your face with one hand, making you stop your teasing, “all done.”

instantly, he leans in, letting his lips meet yours again. this kiss is more lustful than the last; it’s sloppy and needy, and when he pulls away for air, he stays so close that he practically breathes his next words into your mouth, “i should’ve left your makeup on so you could watch me ruin it.”

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ na jaemin

it's unfortunate that you're a light sleeper, seeing as it makes it quite difficult for your boyfriend to do something nice for you.

this morning, jaemin had woken up an hour before you usually do with the intention to surprise you by making breakfast and delivering it to you in bed.

he had everything worked out: he set his alarm on his phone and kept it tucked under his pillow so he could rush to silence it once he woke up, hoping that you'd continue to sleep undisturbed. from there, he rolled out of bed as quietly as possible, tip-toeing out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to make you the best breakfast-in-bed ever.

everything was going according to plan, until now. he had just scooped the first bit of pancake batter into the pan when the padding of your feet alerts him of your presence. your arms wrap around his waist, nose nuzzling into his back.

like a child who didn’t get his way, jaemin whines out and stomps his feet a bit, "babe, you weren't supposed to be up yet.”

"i felt you get up, jaem," you laugh, "let me help you-"

"nope! you're not allowed to do anything. this was supposed to be a surprise,"

"alright, fine."

when you try to pull away to get ahead on the dishes, jaemin's hand drags you back in, right to where you were on his waist.

well, if he won't let you let you help in the kitchen, maybe you can help a different way.

mischievously, your teeth graze his back and shoulders, hands sliding under his shirt to feel the muscles on his stomach, which immediately tense at the contact of your cold fingers. when your actions elicit a reaction from him, a small knowing scoff that told you that he knew exactly what you were up to, you continue your efforts, trailing down to loosen the drawstrings of his joggers.

"oh, yeah," he hums when you touch him. no more than a second later, the free hand that isn’t busy flipping pancakes comes down to wrap over yours, guiding it up and down on his length, “you’re so naughty.”

"i just wanna repay you for getting up early to make me breakfast,"

"if you keep going," he whimpers, "i might end up wanting something else for breakfast," jaemin's chest is heaving at this point.

"the food's gonna burn," you half-heartedly warn, mercilessly continuing your pace.

"well, it just might 'cause i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

there's a clattering noise when the pan is pushed back and off the heat, the spatula dropping onto the counter as jaemin pulls your hand and his from his pants.

he quickly flips off the stove and turns to you, hands wrapping around your thighs to pick you up, situating you on the empty kitchen island.

“breakfast can wait.” he mumbles, then captures your mouth in a kiss.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ zhong chenle

“chenle.”

“the game’s almost over,”

“chenle!”

“there’s 10 minutes left!”

“you’re watching highlights! you can literally watch those whenever!”

“now is also whenever!” he cleverly retorts.

okay, think. that’s the third video he’s watched in a row, the third time he’s fed you the same explanation and promised that this highlight video would be the last.

so, think: how can you get him off his stupid phone?

“you wanna watch your highlights? okay,” you shrug, sitting beside him on the couch.

“okay?” he asks, as if your previous statement is entirely foreign to him, and truthfully, it is. you had never given up so easily before. in fact, chenle had grown to love the banter. half of the time, the only reason he really insists on watching his highlight clips for so long is because he loves to watch you yearn for his attention.

“yep.”

“i’ll be done after this one,” he reminds you, watching closely for your reaction.

you nod nonchalantly, “right.” and give him a forced smile.

you give him a few seconds to get back into the video before you bring your hand over to his thigh. as expected, he doesn’t say anything, continuing his act in hopes that you’ll go back to urging him to shut the video off.

but this time, unlike the others, you remain just as stoic, sneakily inching closer and closer. it’s only a matter of time before he catches on, so you reach over in one motion and undo the button of his pants, putting your hand inside.

oh. so that’s your play?

you catch onto the way his eyes widen for a fleeting moment, but he’s quick to cover it up.

gently, you rub him, leaning in to leave kisses on his cheek, the kind that are so light and soft that they invite goosebumps to spread through his neck and arms.

he resists all urges to shudder or succumb to your touch; instead, he opts for taking his bottom lip between his teeth, a last measure to remain sane as you pleasure him. he can’t care less about the highlights anymore, but he’s stubborn and refuses to lose, so his eyes stay locked on the screen although his thoughts are entirely elsewhere.

you’re supposed to beg for him, not the other way around.

but that’s easier said than done, especially when you’re palming him, pre-cum leaking from his tip as his mind wanders off the game, clinging to everything that is you.

chenle squeezes his eyes shut for a second.

“what’s the matter?”

“nothing.” he says through gritted teeth.

you keep toying with him, bringing your other hand to the button of your own shorts. at this, chenle’s eyes snap over and he mentally curses, blowing air through his nostrils harshly.

his fingers are turning white from the way he’s gripping his phone with so much force. every stroke of your hand is wearing him down, bringing him closer to his climax, but he doesn’t want to finish yet, not before he’s been inside of you.

“chenle, baby, you’re not even watching-“

“yeah, i know, that’s because i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ park jisung

“and then, if you press these buttons, your attack upgrades and deals more damage…”

if you’re being honest, everything jisung has said about his new switch game, which he’s explaining to you with so much interest and passion, is going in one ear and out the other.

it’s not that you don’t care, you do! you’re more than happy to sit and listen to him go on about something he’s excited about, but you simply don’t know what’s gotten into you today.

all you can seem to focus on is him.

his lips are plump, looking softer and more kissable than ever, and you think you may pass out when his tongue darts out to wet them. now, they’re glossed over, just like his pretty brown eyes that reflect the video game screen from the console resting on his chest.

your leg lies across his body, unable to keep still with the ache starting to flourish at your core. you’re practically grinding on his thigh and he’s oblivious as ever.

the fingers that hug his waist have now developed a mind of their own: they dance over his stomach and travel south until they make their way under jisung’s waistband.

“what-“ he clears his throat to cover the way his voice cracks, “what are you doing?”

“what are you talking about?”

all of his muscles tense up, “with your, uhm, hand?”

“oh,” you feign surprise, batting your eyes with innocence as if there could be no another reason your hand was holding his crotch, “it’s warm, my fingers were getting cold,”

he nods rather awkwardly, mumbling something that implies he understands and tries to continue with his explanation.

key word: tries.

his speech is a mess and a nervous sweat has broken out on his forehead. he’s even begun to explain things about the game wrong, spewing out nervous laughs in between weak apologies.

as hard as he’s trying to keep his act together, there’s one thing that blatantly gives him away. under your hand, you can feel him getting hard, and he knew it, too.

the entire time he’s talking, he’s growing harder and harder in your palm and you just cant resist moving a bit.

“aah, that feels-“

“so, what does that character do, again?”

jisung blinks at you with wide eyes, an look of disbelief on his face. after a pause, he answers you quietly.

“they—mmh, they shoot these uhm-“

you nod teasingly, “uh-huh?”

“these fireballs that-“ defeated, he groans out, “baby…”

“woah, fireballs?!”

“baby, i’ll tell you about the game later. right now, i-“ he sets the switch aside and you pout in false disappointment.

“what? why?”

"because—i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

ੈ♡˳

3K notes · View notes

snarky-badger · 6 months

Text

Places to donate to help Palestine

PCRF.net - They did over a 100 medical missions in 2022 (Palestine Children’s Relief Fund)

Middle East Children's Alliance - A Non-profit organization fighting for the well-being and rights of Middle Eastern Children. They also have a link to a 'tool kit' to help spread information about the Gaza Genocide. I'm linking to it directly HERE

Anera: Where Hope Finds a Way - They provide everything from food, medicine and hygiene kits. $30 equals 16 blood bags - an essential thing for helping doctors help people survive horrible physical trauma.

UNICEF.org - Link to where you can donate to help UNICEF get aid to those suffering in Palestine.

And because I know damn well that lots of people don't have the extra funds to donate money - you can help by simply clicking here once a day. It donates ad revenue. Click to help Palestine

[I wanted so much to find other places people could donate that weren't in the US or Canada, but I was having problems figuring out how to ensure that they were reputable. If anyone knows of any, please reblog and add the links!]

And some basic informational sources for those who want to understand what's really going on other than the misleading information from the media.

BDS - The Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions movement works to end international support for Israel's oppression of Palestinians. Offers actual news about what's happening.

Decolonize Palestine - In depth information about the history and origins of Palestine. Also has a great 'debunked myths' section that lists almost all of all the lies the Media has been peddling.

Mondoweiss - An independent website devoted to informing readers about developments in Israel/Palestine and related US foreign policy. (Be aware: Some articles show disturbing images of the horrors happening in Gaza.)

Petitions I found with reputable track records (there are a LOT of fakes out there)

Canada:

Independant Jewish Voices Canada - Gaza on the Brink Ceasefire Now! - Prewritten letter to Justin Trudeau and Mélanie Joly calling for an immediate ceasefire, and for an end to the collective punishment of Palestinians. Just sign your name and it sends a letter!

There are several other ways (Including email addresses to various people/companies, as well as physical addresses you can mail letters to) listed here.

DON'T send threats/hate mail. That does nothing but make them double down on their current stances. Be polite. You don't have to take a happy tone, but be polite.

United States:

USA - Tell Congress: Stop Fueling the Gaza Genocide - Demanding an immediate ceasefire and for Humanitarian Aid to be allowed into Gaza.

Jewish Voice for Peace - You can use their form for send a letter to Congress to demand that they should focus on de-escalation instead of sending money and weapons to Israel so they can continue their genocidal war against Palestinians.

Jewish Voice for Peace (part 2) - Fill out this form and inform President Biden that he should call for a ceasefire and stop supplying money and weapons to Israel.

#free palestine #palestine aid #how to help palestine #stop the genocide #free gaza #help palestine #charities #non profit

2K notes · View notes

normspellsman · 1 year

Text

I Trusted You

part one | part two

pairing: neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

genre: angstish, arguing (lo’ak & neteyam), fluffish, siblings fighting, & comfort

word count: 2.3k+

warning(s): lo’ak + neteyam arguing, neteyam being absolutely livid, cursing, jake having to break up neteyam + lo’ak, mentions of injury + death + blood, lo’ak + neteyam physically fighting, nete blaming lo’ak for you getting hurt, mentions of nearly crying, slight foreshadowing to the events of atwow, & kissing

taglist: @dearstell @aonungsmate @lvlyynim @optimisticblazetrash @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @universal-s1ut @minkyungseokie @arianapjs @wwwellacom @goodiesinthecloset21 @liyahsocorro @amortencjja @chshshhshshshshshshs

word bank: skxawng — idiot; moron, irayo — thanks; thank you, tsmuke — sister, yawntutsyip — darling; little one, tiyawn — love, & nga yawne lu oer — i love you

note: literally spent all day thinking about this fic & just had to write it, hope you enjoy! <3 also, tysm for 1k+ notes on the first part. like that’s totally insane. i love you all mwahhh 💋💋

Neteyam was pissed. Very, very pissed.

He gave his brother one job and he couldn’t even succeed in executing it. Lo’ak was apparently too fucking incompentent to do the one thing he asked of him. Stupid fucking skxawng, he thought to himself, shaking his head in disappointment.

Anxiety riddled Neteyam’s body as he stood outside of the Tsahìk’s tent waiting for his Grandmother to finish patching you up. All he wanted was to have you in his arms and hold you but his Grandmother deemed his clinginess a distraction and promptly kicked him out of the tent so she could work and properly focus without him practically breathing down her neck. He began to pace up and down the side of the tent in anxiety, chewing at his fingernails.

Neteyam knew that putting all the blame on his younger brother wasn’t something he should be doing, but he found himself doing it anyway.

Nothing good ever comes out of Lo’ak’s plans or adventures. Someone within his group always ends up hurt which results in Neteyam having to save his ass more times than he could remember to count. He didn’t mind it much then, you weren’t really in the picture then nor did you ever accompany Lo’ak on his explorations. But once you wiggled your way into the eldest Sully’s life and ultimately stole his heart in the process, you frequented Lo’ak’s trips more and more. If Na’vi could develop grey hairs, Neteyam would have a head full of them. Poor boys heart stopped every time he learned that you joined Lo’ak and company to wherever. He was always stressed about your safety.

“Is she okay?” A voice asked, concern laced within their tone.

Neteyam’s tail swished in agitation at the voice. Lo’ak, he internally seethed.

“No, she’s not. No thanks to you,” he growled out, pacing ceasing.

Lo’ak knew he fucked up. He knew he shouldn’t have let Tuktirey convince you to join them on their excursion. He knew he should’ve done more to protect you from the threats of Quaritch and his knife.

“I didn’t know this was going to happen, Neteyam,” Lo’ak replied, ears pinned back as he watched his brother shoot a deadly glare at him, “I didn’t even ask her to go in the first place. Tuk did.”.

Neteyam scoffed at his brother's answer. How dare he blame Tuk for this. He was the elder brother in the moment, he should’ve acted like it.

“Don’t bring Tuk into this. You know damn well that (Y/N) can’t say no to her. You should’ve stopped her from going either way,” he retorted, finger digging into Lo’ak’s chest as he repeatedly poked it into his skin as he spoke. “You knew the promise you made to me and yet you failed to protect her,” he added.

“You don’t think I know that?” Lo’ak hissed out, pushing Neteyam’s finger away from his chest, “You don’t think I’m beating myself up for it? That I don’t feel bad? I feel awful.”.

“I know that I’m the fucked up failure of the family but that doesn’t mean you can blame me for everything,” he added, tail copying his brothers previous movements in anger, “(Y/N) has a free will of her own and decided to come on her own terms. None of us knew what was going to happen tonight. It is Quaritch and his soldiers fault for what they did. They caused it and we just so happened to be in the crossfire.”.

Neteyam shook his head angrily at Lo’ak, braids harshly swaying at the movement. Everything seemed to have gotten hotter. All Neteyam could feel was hot anger. He was so angry that he saw only red.

“She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you weren’t at the abandoned shack, Lo’ak. You were there and they took advantage of that, holding all of you hostage for just being there,” he argued back.

Neteyam knew that Quaritch was to blame for all of this but if Lo’ak wasn’t there in the first place, none of this would’ve occurred tonight. He led everyone to the one place they weren’t supposed to go. A place their Father had established was off limits. Lo’ak never thought about others whenever he went to chase a thrill, always paying for the consequences after the fact.

“You don’t think, Lo’ak. You never do! You don’t think of the consequences of your actions,” Neteyam added, hands lifting up by his sides as he gestured towards the boy in front of him.

A part of his statement was true. Lo’ak tended to act before he was able to think. But even then, he felt as if it wasn’t fair for all the blame to be put onto his shoulders. Lo’ak did reckless shit all the time and his actions rarely severely impacted others the way it did tonight. Tonight was out of his control. The ball was no longer in his hands when a soldier took a hold of Tuk, the ball being snatched out from his fingers and into the grips of Quaritch.

A hiss crawled its way out of Lo’ak’s throat, pushing back his brother with enough force to send him stumbling back. He was tired of Neteyam harassing him for something he had no control over.

The elder hissed back, lunging at his brother and tackling him to the ground. Punches and slaps were thrown as the two brothers rolled on the ground. Insults were shouted out into the air at each other causing heads to turn and peak out in curiosity.

“Enough!” A loud voice boomed, grabbing the shoulders of Neteyam and yanking him off of Lo’ak, pushing him backwards and further from his brother. “Get your crap together you two! There is no means for you to fight!” Jake shouted, pulling his other son to his feet.

Both boys' ears were pinned back against their heads and tails fell limp between their legs. Anger had overtaken both of their senses and caused their minds to become overwhelmed with the emotion, taking it out on each other.

“Both of you go to your respective tents, now!” Jake shouted once again, not leaving room for objections.

Neteyam didn’t want to leave you alone in his Grandmother's tent. He wanted to hold you as Mo’at patched you up and slowly began to heal the wounds on your thigh. But he knew that after the fight he just caused, he needed time to cool down and collect his thoughts. Plus, you most likely heard the entire argument and didn’t want to see him after he spat such harsh words towards Lo’ak, who only tried his best to protect you and his loved ones.

Both brothers walked to their tents in silence, heads bowed in shame as others looked at them as they walked by.

Nothing good came out of this night and all Neteyam wanted to do was have you in his arms as he covered every inch of you in gentle kisses to ease his mind.

———

Kiri had assisted you towards your shared tent with Neteyam. She allowed you to put all your weight on her as she wrapped your arm around her shoulder and walked you to your home. The poor girl was still shaken over what happened hours prior, still trying to process your stabbing and the kidnapping of Spider. She most definitely was going to cry herself to sleep tonight, that’s if she managed to fall asleep.

“You sure you’re alright?” Kiri softly asked, settling the both of you in front of the opening of your home. She removed your arm from her shoulder and held you steady by placing her hands on either side of your arms.

You nodded in response, smiling at her as you did so.

“Irayo, tsmuke,” you replied, placing one of your hands on her forearms, a look of understanding etched onto your face as you two stood there in slight silence.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” she responded back, placing her forehead on yours before pulling back and making the trek back to her family’s tent.

You slowly and gently shifted towards the covering of the opening of your tent, pulling it back as you made your way inside as slowly as you could so as not to cause anymore pain or aches to settle itself in your fresh wounds.

Neteyam and you had gotten your own tent after the official announcement of your relationship to the clan a few months back. Your parents weren’t too keen on the idea but eventually gave in once the frequent attacks of the sky people occurred, wanting the two of you to spend as much time together in case either of you were to fall victim to the bullets of the humans.

It was nice having your own place. It gave the both of you a lot more freedom as mates as well as allow you to explore your creative side when it came to decorating your home.

“Yawntutsyip?” Neteyam called out, upper half peeking out from behind one of the other rooms your tent held.

The teen's eyes lightened up upon settling on your figure, fully coming out from behind the wall and making his way towards you, bringing you into his embrace gently so as to not hurt you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent to calm down his anxiety.

“Are you okay? Was Grandmother gentle? Did she patch you up all right?” He hurriedly asked, eyes trailing to your bandaged thigh, refraining himself from reaching out and touching it.

You softly giggled at his frantic voice, softly kissing his lips to silence him. “I am alright, Teyam,” you responded, brushing your nose up against your lovers as he relaxed in your hold.

Neteyam sighed in slight relief, nuzzling his face into the side of your cheek and then back down to your neck. He pulled you tighter into his arms as he lowly and gently purred at the fact that you were now in his embrace in one piece.

“Mo’at said to take it easy for the next couple of days,” you added, pecking your mates cheek as you gently coaxed him out from your neck.

He only hummed in acknowledgment, gazing into your eyes as he brought one hand up to your jaw, caressing it with the side of his thumb. He’ll make sure that you barely move a finger your entire healing journey, him being the one to wait on hand and foot for you. You’ll be taken care of whenever he’s around.

“I heard what you and Lo’ak were talking about earlier,” you mumbled out, eyes darting to the side briefly before returning to Neteyam’s slightly larger orbs.

He only closed his eyes as a reply to your statement, guilt eating away at his conscience. He felt terrible for fighting with his brother in front of the tent you were in and that you had to hear everything. He didn’t want you to hear the colorful words he spat at Lo’ak in his moment of anger. He didn’t want you to see or hear him like that.

“I don’t blame him, Nete. He tried his best to protect me from…Quaritch,” you continued, rubbing your hands on his shoulders in comfort, “Yes, perhaps he should’ve stopped me from going but I chose to go in the end. None of us knew what was going to happen. There was nothing we could’ve done, that Lo’ak could’ve done in the moment.”.

Neteyam knew that your words were true. Lo’ak was only still a child and was put into a life or death situation. Held hostage by someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill them if they made the wrong move. He couldn’t imagine the type of stress his brother, especially you, went through. It was something that most likely would affect all of you for days to come.

“I know, I know, my love. It’s just,” he begins, throat constricting as he tried not to cry in front of you, “I was so scared to lose you. My anger got the best of me and the only one I could blame was Lo’ak in the moment. It doesn’t excuse the things I said and did, but I was so overtaken by you nearly dying that all common thinking flew out the window.”.

“I only want to protect you, tiyawn,” he finished, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead before placing his own against yours.

You understood where Neteyam was coming from. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were in his shoes. Anger was something that many didn’t have complete control over, succumbing to its power in the end. Neteyam had been a victim of its power this night and deeply regretted it with all his heart. He caused more pain to his brother. More pain than he had gone through within the last few hours.

He knew Lo’ak deeply cared for you. That he was merely just checking in to see if you were okay. But Neteyam had snapped at him and released all his frustrations and anxiety onto him as a result.

“I know, ma Neteyamur,” you replied, gently smiling at him.

You knew that whatever Neteyam did was only ever out of love and that was one of the main things that made you fall for him in the first place. He deeply cared for those he loved and would do anything for them. You just hoped that it wouldn’t be the cause of his downfall.

“Nga yawne lu oer,” Neteyam softly whispered against your lips, not giving you time to repeat the sentiment back as he smashed his lips into yours.

He’d do anything for you. He was yours and you were his. He’d fight fiercely for the connection and love you two shared. It was neither of your time yet. He’d make sure of it.

#atwow imagines #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #avatar #atwow #atwow x reader #atwow x you #avatar x reader #angst #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam imagines #neteyam #neteyam sully x you

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lilywastaken · 1 year

Text

⇝ shadow .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART TWO OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: All Simon wants is to explain his disappearance to you, but he can't really expect you to be willing to listen.

WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!), Mentions of NSFW, Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications, Soft!Dad!Simon.

A/N: Second chapter!! Almost exactly a week after the first one LMAO. No smut in this one, I'm afraid, but some very fluffy moments between Simon and Tommy! <333 Once again, please reblog and comment if you enjoy this, it helps a lot!!!

WORD COUNT: 10k.

MASTERLIST.

Also on Ao3!

You were pretty sure your fingers were about to snap.

The grip you had on the door could rival that of a professional arm wrestler, your whole body stiff and frozen in place as your gaze locked onto Simon's.

Was it even Simon? His eyes didn't hold the same warmth it had the last time you'd seen him, his body wasn't as relaxed as it had felt beneath your touch, his whole frame covered in dark clothing that left his eyes as the only source of light that shone through that shadow of a man.

Well, you couldn't even consider them that, his blue orbs lacked that speck of light you'd grown accustomed to seeing in your son's; it left him looking like a ghost, a shell of a man. But maybe that was appropriate, he never did look like the kind of bloke you'd expect to be kind or sweet, he suited more the idea of a cold, ruthless man that had abandoned you and your son.

Even after having spent a night in his arms, felt the touch of his lips on your skin, memorised the feeling of his cock inside of you; he was still a stranger to you, a man you had idolised so much during the first days after your encounter that he had begun to form into someone completely different in your mind.

And now that he was in front of you, you knew. This wasn't the Simon from your dreams that held you in his arms, the Simon from your dreams that pressed kisses to your swollen belly whenever the baby would kick, the Simon from your dreams that hadn't left.

It was like a slap in the face.

One that brought you back to reality, that flushed away any daydream or idealised version you had of him from your mind, and forced you to focus on the man standing in front of you.

"You-"

"Did you keep it?"

As if you'd been sucker punched right in the gut, you felt the air leave your lungs, the words you had intended to speak sitting on the tip of your tongue like the bitter taste of black tea.

"It? Wh-"

"Him. Our son."

Our son.

It was funny, how he'd managed to say the two simple words that immediately made your blood boil in rage, tears forming at the corner of your eyes out of frustration as.

"Oh, so he's our son now?" You willed yourself to keep calm, but you couldn't help how your voice wavered when you spoke, this whole situation baring to be too much to handle along with your already declining mental state. "You didn't seem very interested before."

"I was gone."

"Oh, trust me, I know." You snarled, your harsh tone causing him to look away from you, whether it was in shock or fear, you didn't care. At least you couldn't feel small beneath his stare if he wasn't looking. "How long has it fucking been, Simon? A year. 9 months carrying your child and 3 months raising him. You have no fucking right to come knocking now and asking to see him."

"You don't understa-"

"I don't need to fucking understand, Simon!" You cried out, your voice ringing down the hall and in Ghost's ears, "I was alone! I am alone! I went through a terrifying pregnancy on my own because you couldn't bother to pick up the goddamn phone! Where were you when I needed you!? Where were you when the doctor told me that the birth might leave irreparable damage on my body!? Where were you when I almost lost him!?"

Silence filled the building, dull ringing in Ghost's ears from how loud you'd shouted, his gaze shifting up from the floor to you, his heart skipping a beat at your dishevelled state, your flushed face and tear stained cheeks, the hand that had been resting on the door now clenching your shirt right above your heart, as if the simple act of talking to him pained you to no end.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Simon. Sorry doesn't make up for this past year, for all the fucking pain I went through while you were, what, ignoring me the whole time!? Waiting until an 'acceptable' time to show up and fucking demand to see him!?"

"I'm not demanding." You flinched as one of his hands came to slam onto the top of the door that separated the both of you, his hand clenching around the wood hard enough to break it, and you knew that if he wanted to, he could. "I'm asking. I'm asking to see him, for you to let me explain why I was gone."

Your lower lip quivered at the way he spoke, so calm and composed compared to you, who'd let your emotions take control of your words and had just

"I don't know what you went through. I don't think I'll ever be able to understand. And.. I'm, I'm sorry, that you were forced to go through it alone," The apology that slipped through his lips sounded almost forced, like it was his first time hearing and speaking the words out of his mouth. "I'm not here just to see him. I'm here because you deserve an explanation on why I wasn't here. And I know it won't take away the pain, but I ho-"

The door slammed shut.

Ghost was left outside of your apartment, hand still testing on the flimsy wood of your door, staring at the point where your eyes had been mere seconds ago.

You'd closed the door on him.

You'd ripped any chances he'd had of seeing his son and explaining himself to you in half.

He'd gone through his speech for hours in the car, making sure that he wouldn't come off as rude or mean to you, that everything was explained slowly and coherently, but you'd just… Closed the door on him.

It was a funny sight, really. A giant of a man standing in the corridor of a beat down building in the middle of Manchester, outwardly looking like a kicked puppy if it weren't for the fire that was burning inside of him, bubbling beneath his skin as he got the urge to rip the whole fucking door off just so would fucking listen to-

The door opened again, properly, this time. No little gap where he could barely see your full body, where you were able to hide from him in fear that he'd do something disastrous like he'd just been thinking of.

You were letting him in.

That much was obvious, by the way your shaking frame was glued to the wall of the small corridor, allowing him space to cross through into the apartment he'd spent the night in a year ago.

No words had to be spoken, the reluctant look on your face telling him more than enough.

The few steps he took to enter your apartment felt like crossing a border to another world, one that he couldn't recognise as much as he tried to think back to the last time he'd been there.

Everything had changed. The wallpaper with the flowers that reminded him of his grandma's old home had been striped, replaced with a more cool paint over; the dingy sofa where he'd ripped your tights open was replaced with a much more softer and plush looking model, one that could no doubt be pulled into a bed; the bookshelf he'd gotten the sticky notes from had been ridden of many of the books that had littered it, replaced with children's books and a few pictures, baby toys strewn across the floor in front of it.

It felt like a whole different place than what he remembered. He didn't know what he had expected, for you to have a child and for nothing to change? He was aware of the chaos that a child brought, remembering how annoyed he himself had been as everything started to change around him when his brother had been born, the need it brought to rearrange the whole house to accommodate the baby and not have any dangerous items lying around.

Ghost made a mental note to himself as he picked up one of the picture frames from next to the small telly to clean up his own house before bringing his son there (if he was even allowed to), recalling the dust and grime that covered the corners of his rooms, the glass shards from the last time he'd drunk and passed out on the sofa littering his floors.

You pushed the door closed behind you both, shaky hands pressing onto the cool wood in an attempt to ground yourself, trying not to focus on the silent yet imposing footsteps of your son's father.

You don't know what possessed you to open the door, to let him into your space, that he'd now taken over like a shadow. He looked so… out of place.

A demon along the angels, a ghost along the living.

His dark clothes contrasted heavily with the bright colours of your son's toys that laid strewn across the floor, with the soft colours your walls were painted in, with the colourful blankets that you'd tried spicing up the sofa with, despite no one being able to appreciate them other than you.

It didn't feel right.

It didn't feel right to have him here, walking around your home like he belonged there, like he'd been there all along. It was wrong.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, like your throat was closing off and preventing any air from reaching your lungs properly. Your nails dug into your own palms as you clenched your hands closed, trying your best to even out your breathing and focus on anything but the impending conversation you'd have to have with him.

You could hear him say something, but your brain was so caught up with trying to stop yourself from spiralling that it didn't even comprehend what he was saying. The balaclava over his face was moving, indicating that he was speaking, but not a single sound was reaching your ears.

Your body was trembling at this point, mouth gasping for air as your throat continued to constrict, your eyes going blurry with tears as you watched him come closer to you, mouth still moving.

"Breathe." Two hard hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you out of your stupor bordering on what you could easily identify as a panic attack, ones that you'd been prone to ever since you gave birth. "Look at me. Breathe."

Simon immediately knew what was happening without even having to look at you.

The laboured breaths that were leaving you were enough to activate the alarms in his head, recognising them immediately. He'd heard them many times before coming from him, his teammates, the people whose heads were pressed against his gun. You were spiralling, falling into the harming grasp of your anxiety and letting it infect your body.

When he got a panic attack, Simon rode through it. The therapist that Price had assigned him a few years ago had advised him to consider doing breathing exercises whenever he showed signs of having one, but during the year he'd seen her and the years to come, not once had he considered doing them. Sometimes, he felt like he deserved to feel like that, like he was suffocating, like his heart was about to be ripped out; for all the pain and suffering he'd inflicted on others, he deserved to feel at least a sliver of it.

But the thought of letting you experience that same pain, the same panic, the same hopelessness he felt whenever he'd cave into his depression, it wasn't a good one.

So despite his initial lack of remembrance of the exercises his therapist had offered, he tried his best to talk you through it, hands grasping at your shoulders and squeezing every time he saw you start to slip away back into that pit of anxiety, keeping his eyes on yours through the whole thing, not letting you go until you'd stopped shaking and your breath had become even once again.

You'd been so focused on the anxiety coursing through your veins that you hadn't even realised who was helping you through it, blindlessly following orders and breathing along with him, your brain subconsciously recognising his voice as something to cling onto, to pull you out of your own plunging thoughts.

But as soon as you realised whose eyes you were gazing into, whose hands were holding you down, you panicked again. Your own hands came up to push him away, the action catching him off guard and making him take a few small steps back from you, eyes still fixed on yours.

"Are y-"

"Shut up." You breathed out, interrupting him for what seemed like the 100th time that night, mimicking him and taking a few steps away from him and wrapping your arms over your upper body. "Sit."

Ghost finally tore his stare away from you to look down at the sofa, hesitantly taking the first steps forward like a cat meeting its owner for the first time before finally taking a seat on the sofa, sinking into the plush pillows thanks to his weight and looking around from the new perspective.

"Do you normally have panic attacks?" He spoke up, thankful that you didn't interrupt him this time, voicing his concern.

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at your fuzzy socks as you thought back to all the times you'd had to go through them on your own sitting at the doctor's office, lying in bed after putting Tommy to sleep, looking at yourself in the mirror after your labour…

Your doctor had warned you about the rollercoaster of emotions your body would go through after giving birth, including the depression many women suffered that unfortunately had affected you too during the first few weeks; but you hadn't expected it to continue until this late.

"...sometimes." You mumbled, hands running up and down your arms as you squirmed beneath his glare. "It's normal. For a lot of women."

He didn't answer, nodding in response instead before turning his head to the side table, where a small picture of a very tiny Tommy sat, his hand itching towards it to take it in properly.

The silence that followed what you could barely call a conversation was unbearable. The tension that hung in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, the silence almost suffocating you as you tried to muster up the courage to speak up if he wasn't going to, despite him having almost broken down your door in order to talk.

"...so? Are you going to explain?"

Simon stayed quiet, the whole speech he'd rehearsed back in his car suddenly fizzing away from his mind like a shooting star in the night sky. He was left with barely an outline of what he wanted to say, a vague idea of everything he'd tried his best to put into words before seeing you.

But actually having you in front of him, sitting on the same sofa he'd once pressed you against, gazing into the eyes he'd once thought so much about before the start of that god awful mission, made every last thread of sanity that remained in him snapped.

He was sure that without the mask he'd look like a fool, mouth slightly open and half lidded slate blue eyes fluttering with every blink, transfixed by the vision that was you, in front of him.

"Look, if you're not even going to fucking talk, you can just go right back out the fu-"

"I can't tell you exactly what happened." You stopped mid-rant, cheeks burning in embarrassment after being the one who was interrupted this time. "My job doesn't allow it."

His job? Was he really blaming everything on his job? What kind of goddamn profession forced you to go radio silent for a whole year?

"What do you work in?"

"..." Simon regarded you with a poignant sheen in his eyes, clearly at odds with deciding what to say, the truth or what he had been taught to recite in a situation like this. "I protect."

Even if he didn't outright say what his vocation was, you could do more than assume.

Protection could mean many things, like working at one of those security alarm companies to working as a bodyguard for some fancy rich guy, but with one look at the man sitting in front of you, you could tell.

And it was terrifying.

You'd assumed he was some type of bodybuilder when you'd first saw him, but as you recalled his tactical steps as he walked you down the street, the way his hand flew to his belt when you'd pass some creepy looking guy, as if he was expecting something to be hanging from there, it all started to click.

You had two options before you. He was either a fucking mercenary or military. And although both options were terrifying on their own, you hoped to whatever god that was looking down on you that it was the latter. You wouldn't know what you'd do with yourself if the father of your sweet baby boy was some type of criminal.

"You protect?" You let out, careful with your words in case you said something that you shouldn't, terrified with the prospect of him getting annoyed or angry now that you had an idea of what he did for a living.

"I protect." He parroted, lifting his hand to shove it into one of the pockets that adorned his jacket, pulling out a slim laminated piece of paper, what you could only assume was some sort of identification. "Here."

You took it hesitantly, flipping it over to scan your eyes over the confusing words that lettered the ID, mostly all words you'd never heard before in your life, but you were smart enough to grasp the concept of it.

"You work in the army?" You question, finger running over his title, repeating his newly discovered last name in your head, cursing at yourself for even thinking of how normal it would sound led by your son's name.

"SAS. Lieutenant. Can't say more than that." His gloved hand came back up to hopefully grab his ID back, but you dodged him, taking a few steps back and flipping it back over so he could see what you were pointing at.

"There's no picture." You finally referred to the black space that filled what was supposed to be a headshot of whichever soldier's ID it was. "How… how do I know this is real?"

You watched the mask move as he furrowed his eyebrows, the hand that had fallen onto his knee now gripped at the cargo pants, his eyes showing the disbelief that shot through his body.

"Y'think I made a fuckin' fake ID?" He grunted out, lifting himself from his spot on the sofa and glowering down at you, who did your best to not stand down almost immediately out of fear of his massive frame. "I don't carry 'round a picture of my face, defeats the whole purpose of my fuckin' mask."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried coming up with some type of rebuttal that would shut him right up, but you ended up once again asking another desperate question.

"That doesn't explain why you were gone."

Silence.

The crickets that sang from downstairs, the sound of the creaking from upstairs with every step one of your neighbours took, the suddenly suffocating feeling of your tiny apartment, everything seemed to increase ten fold with every second that passed.

"I can't tell you much." He leaned his head back, twisting his neck to a side to reveal some of the hair that had grown down to below his chin after a year of not properly shaving, making you look away from what almost seemed like an invasion of privacy.

"Oh, fuck you." You let out an amused scoff, unbelieving that still after everything that had happened in the short amount of time he'd been back, he still refused to say anything. "Go to hell, Simon."

"I was on a fuckin' mission. A long one. I wasn't allowed any devices, like always, so I couldn't get back to you." He looked back at you with a glare that easily rivalled yours, voice rising in volume with each word he spoke, clearly pissed off at how you were acting with him despite having tried to explain himself, but deep down he knew that it was expected from you after what you'd gone through, yet he still couldn't help but feel disappointed deep down.

"Don't raise your fucking voice at me, I'm not the one who's at blame here, Simon!" You shoved a finger into his stiff chest, doing barely as much 'damage' as you pretended to, but you did your best to get your point across.

"I'm not raising my vo-"

A high pitched cry cut through both of your raising voices, Simon's hand immediately going to his belt out of instinct while you whipped your head in the direction of Tommy's room, wincing in both fatigue and shame for having forgotten about your poor, sensitive to noises baby boy.

You put a finger up before Simon could even get the idea of heading there first, an authoritative glare on your face as you grew 10 times braver now that it came to your son's mood and well-being.

"Stay." You hissed, almost like you were reprimanding a mutt instead of a grown man. "Don't fucking follow me."

Once you were sure you'd gotten the message across, you pulled yourself away from his gaze and quickly entered your son's nursery, cooing and shushing at him as you neared his crib.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, duck, I'm sorry." You whispered, carefully picking up his fidgeting body in your arms and pressing him to your chest, rocking him as gently as you could in your told. "Mommy's sorry, she didn't mean to scare you."

His crying didn't cease, only getting louder as you desperately tried to get him to quiet down, terrified of the racket he was no doubt making for the next door neighbours, who'd probably come by tomorrow with some not very nice words.

Your hands were shaking as he still didn't calm down, a shiver running up your spine while goosebumps racked your body as you saw the light that came from the living room be blocked by a large mass of what you could only assume was Simon.

"I told you not to follow." You kept your voice small as he took slow steps towards you, not wanting to agitate Tommy even more than he already was, knowing how enervated you'd be in the morning if that was the case.

"I want to see him."

You bit down on your tongue before you shot out a snappy response, realising that this was not the time nor the place for snarky comments, as much as you wanted Simon to finally get a hint and leave you both alone.

"You haven't even told me his name."

Screwing your eyes closed, you pressed Tommy to your chest a bit tighter, both to calm the two of you down and in an attempt of caging him away from the shadow of a man towering behind you.

"You never asked for it." You felt him stop behind you as you spoke, his eyes staring holes into the back of your head, as if that would finally get you to move so he could see his son.

He stayed silent once again, looking over every single detail in the nursery, from the row of knitted stuffed animals to the plastic fluorescent stars stuck to the ceiling above the crib, eyes trailing over the bookcase that looked a bit too unstable for his liking, the screws too loose to be holding up all that weight properly.

"Did you build these yourself?" Simon watched you turn your head over your shoulder to see what he was referring to, glowering at him crossly as you looked over the furniture.

"Didn't have anyone else to do it, did I?" You snapped, going back to the crying baby in your arms as he continued to look around, gloved fingers running over some of the spines of the books that laid on the shelves, recognising some of them from his own childhood bookshelf.

"You still don't believe me, d'you?"

A beat.

The finalising sound of his footsteps exiting the room made a weight you hadn't realised was pressing on your chest dissipate out of relief, only to come back heavier than ever as he pushed the duffle bag he'd been carrying towards you with his foot.

You looked down at the spilling contents tentatively, almost worried that there was some type of danger in there that would force you to take cover or cower in a corner, but all you found were military pants and clothes, a gun hidden in its holster, and in the hand that slowly appeared in the corner of your vision, dog tags.

"Look." He brought them up closer to your face so you'd be able to see even in the dim lighting that came from the fluorescent stars stuck on the ceiling and the small nightlight, the name engraved in it identical to the one you'd found on the ID. And although most IDs were pretty easy to fake, you were pretty sure dog tags like these weren't. They had the SAS' inscription on them along with a few codes and numbers you were too ignorant about the army to understand; but for all you knew, they could be as fake as the ones some men wore as fashion.

Maybe that still wouldn't have been enough, if it weren't for the gun. England was very strict with gun laws, and the only people you'd ever seen handle one were the police and the military. So he'd either gotten one very illegally or was truly who he said he was.

And as much as you wanted it to all be fake, for him to be the random bloke you'd had sex with that had no connections to anything dangerous, you knew it wasn't. It was blatantly obvious now that he'd laid down everything in front of you like a puzzle, he was telling the truth.

And god, how much you hated it. You hated that the so-called excuse he'd used before was close to being set in stone by now, that everything was falling into place.

"They're real. I promise."

His promises meant nothing to you, and he knew that, but he had to try anything he could for you to finally believe him, to pull down the walls you'd built and let him in.

"..." You looked away from him and his outstretched hand, pulling your still weeping baby closer to you as you debated on what to do, mind torn between two headspaces.

A shaky sight left your lips as he finally started to tone down, his small pudgy hands grabbing at your sweater in an attempt to ground himself, to find a smell and feel he knew brought safety.

"...his name's Tommy."

You felt him freeze behind you, the aura around him growing cold almost immediately, like you'd just blatantly insulted him without any remorse.

"Tommy." He echoed, voice scratchy as if he was dying of thirst, body suddenly feeling like it had been dunked under tiding waves. "Why?"

"Why?" It was your turn to repeat what he'd said, turning around fully and allowing him the first proper look at his infant son.

Any feeling of displeasure or uncomfort left Simon's body as his eyes landed on the small boy whose teary eyes were trained on his mother's, soft hands clinging onto her like all hell would break loose if he weren't, pudgy body wrapped up in soft blanket decorated with a tiny duck print, the animal something he'd heard you refer to him as before.

God, he wasn't even listening anymore, too enamoured with the small being that lied in your arms, his hands itching towards him in hopes of taking him in his own.

His stomach sank as you stepped back in tandem with him, shielding Tommy from him like he was a monster.

"I, uhm…" you looked up at him through glassy eyes, clearly having been taken aback by his sudden advance towards you both, ending with you pressed against the wooden crib's side. "I didn't really think about it. It just… felt right. It sounded nice. There isn't really any… meaning behind it, as far as I know."

And that was true, as far as you knew, Tommy was just one of the names you'd underlined in one of the many baby name books your mother had brought over with her. But for Simon, it was oh so much more than that. It brought back memories that he hadn't thought about in a very long time, including those rough times he'd spent cooped up in that godforsaken house trying his best to take care of the only family he had left.

And although he hadn't heard from his brother in a long while, he couldn't help but feel slightly hollow at the simple thought of him, who now unknowingly shared his name with his new nephew.

"...right." Despite everything that was whirling around in his brain, every single memory and doubt he wished he could share without destroying himself inside out, that single word of confirmation was the only thing he could get out.

Tommy let out a whine, small hand tugging at your shirt as he instantly pulled your attention back to him, small body fidgeting in your hold in a way that would make you drop him if you weren't used to his urge to not stay still.

"Yeah, I get it, duck." You said, balancing him carefully in the crook of one of your arms before picking up the half-empty bottle you'd placed next to the crib, knowing he'd wake up within the little time the milk could sit out and demand to be fed with his startling cries. "It's here, don't worry. You're not going to starve."

Simon watched from the shadows as your son immediately latched on to the bottle, acting like he'd been starved for over a week, when his last feeding session had been barely an hour ago.

"He's very greedy." You mumbled, mostly to yourself, but looked up at Simon as he let out a humoured exhale.

"Most babies are." He said, remembering how needy his own little brother was when it came to feeding, whining and screaming until everyone in the house had woken up.

Silence fell upon the room, the only conceivable sound in the house being the sound of Tommy drinking and the soft jingle of the crib mobile whenever a soft gust of wind came through the parted window.

For the first time in the hour Simon had been back in your life, you felt calm. Your heartbeat had come down to a normal rate, your body had stopped jolting and shaking every now and then, and there was a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched your son cling to the bottle in your hands.

Even Simon's presence had stopped putting you on edge, since now he was just silently gazing down at his son, who's eyes were fixed back on his father's, almost like they were both having a staring contest, and it was unclear who was about to win.

Tommy normally bursted into tears when he was near a stranger, too many new scents and sounds around him since he was used to the calmer and soother environment that was his nursery, so apart from the short strolls you'd take down the streets, he barely went out with you, and when he did, he didn't get to met many new people. You remember how embarrassed you'd been when one of your neighbours had come by to help with fixing a light and Tommy had started bawling at the mere sight of the unfamiliar man standing in the doorway.

So it was a bittersweet surprise when you realised he must've taken an instinctual liking to his father, despite not properly having the brain capacity to regard him as such, and although you'd have plenty of time to go over that later, for now, you were relieved that he hadn't turned to wailing as loud as he could and bursting all three of your eardrums (although if Simon did work in what he said he did, you were sure he'd be used to loud noises by now).

"How d'you pay for all this?"

"What?" You said, the calm expression that had graced your face quickly forming back into the pissed one he'd gotten so used to seeing in the past hour, the innocent yet aggravating question instantly spoiling your mood. "What do you fu- what do you mean?"

"The furniture, the clothes, the nappies." He nodded towards every single thing he listed, only adding onto your annoyance even more. "Where d'you work?"

You snapped your head down to Tommy in order to avoid his damaging questions, meeting the cute scene of your son fast asleep, probably having passed out after such a long staring contest with his dad and finally having a full belly. You ignored the weight of your impending answer as you placed him down carefully back into his crib, letting his chubby cling onto your fingers for a bit before slowly wrenching his grip off, turning back around to his father.

"I don't work. Not anymore." You kept your voice hushed, picking up the empty baby bottle along with a bag of dirty nappies, standing next to the doorway until he got the memo to walk out before you. "Got fired from the bar cause I was too distracted and I messed a lot of things up…. Had to use my savings to pay for everything during my pregnancy."

He watched you walk around the kitchen and put everything away like it was routine, like it was some sort of art that you'd perfected, while thinking over the information he'd just received from you.

He felt horrible. The mere thought of you, pregnant and alone with no job able to support you, working on the crib and nursery on your own was enough to tear his cold heart in two. And he didn't even want to think about how much money you had left, which by the sight of the very expensive-looking cot and all the toys that laid strewn across the bedroom floor, wasn't much.

He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back onto one of the walls and thought about the next words that were going to leave his mouth, the next words that would either end up with you both growing closer together or you continuing to push him away.

"Let me help you."

You stopped dead in your tracks while rearranging one of the cupboards, turning around with a look of disbelief painted on your face, beyond bewildered at what he was even starting to proffer.

"Help me?"

Simon had more money than he knew what to do with. Albeit, a small part of it was sent to his brother and his family at the end of every few months, he was still left with a huge amount of money he didn't really know what to spend it on apart from on the bottles of alcohol that littered the floor of his apartment.

But now that he'd learned about his own family, seen the state your flat was in despite you trying to save face by decorating it as much as you could, about as much information as you had given out about your financial situation, he finally knew what to do with all that money that was left over.

"Help you. Financially. Tommy's my son too." Simon raised a gloved hand up as he watched your mouth open, immediately shutting you up like a teacher would a student. "As much as you want to deny it, s'true. And I'm going to help you." His finger landed on the small island counter, accentuating his point with every word he spoke. "Whether you like it or not."

Now, you'd be bellow stupid to even refuse an offer like this (even though he'd made it quite clear it wasn't an offer, more like an insistence), especially since your bank account was quickly reaching negative numbers with every day that passed, not a lot of jobs being open to a new mother who'd either have to take her baby everywhere or leave between shifts to take care of him (and a nanny was of course out of the question, with what money would you pay them?); and pushing aside your still initial distrust towards him, you couldn't say no to him. Both, because he wouldn't let you and because you needed the help, as much as you didn't want to admit it.

Very deep down, you wanted to say no, to push him out of the flat like you should've done when he had first taken a step inside, that he'd had his chance with both Tommy and you and that his bloody stupid excuses weren't going to work… but god, would you have been a moron to even consider letting those words leave your mouth.

You closed the cabinet shut, turning around to face him properly despite the absolute nerves that were coursing through your body, looking out the window across from you instead of at the imposing figure of the man standing before you.

"Simon, I… Look, just…." You tried changing subject, grasping at straws in order to keep yourself from falling to your knees and thanking him for helping you, to break down again like you'd done within the first quarter hour of seeing him again. "...thank you."

He didn't reply, only nodding in response as he turned away from you, letting you stare at his back as he cocked his head to a side to subtly look into Tommy's room, your small baby boy still fast asleep with his clingy hands holding onto one of the many toys you'd placed in there for him to stay entertained with.

"It's, uhm… it's getting quite late." You pointed out as you looked back out the window, rain pattering against your window as another one of England's classic showers hit your city, your arms wrapping around your torso and running your hands up and down the exposed skin. "How about we just… call it a day and talk about it tomorrow?"

Simon grunted, shrugging his shoulders like he really didn't care, but before you had chance to comment on it, he spoke over his shoulder, his head tilted in a way that the shadows curved around the balaclava covering up his face, his blue eyes slightly brighter than when he'd first shown up.

"I've got some stuff to attend to tomorrow." He muttered, nodding towards the duffle bag that he'd brought out with him when you'd both left the nursery, indicating that he wasn't fully finished with work. "It'll be a while 'till I'm able to just sit down with you."

God, you hated how much fear that single sentence struck in you. Like almost the thought of him leaving for more than a day after finally showing up and explaining everything to you was enough to raise up the anxiety that wrapped around your chest and travelled across every single nerve in your system.

So fucking pathetic. You thought to yourself before looking over at the sofa, the new one you'd bough and arranged yourself a few months into your pregnancy, when you were barely showing and could still handle physical work like that; remembering how much the salesman had insisted on that the pullout was the best option for when you had guests over, it was moderately comfy and big enough to fit up to two people.

And Simon kind of… He kind of counted for two people, right? With that bloody stature of his and his darned accentuated muscles you'd been so in awe of that fateful night.

"You can just take the sofa for tonight. Then we can talk in the morning before you leave." Your mouth acted faster than your brain did, but this time, you didn't really feel embarrassed or disappointed in yourself, I mean, it was the logical solution to this sort of problem. He'd made it quite clear that he wanted to be in his son's life, so if that was true, you'd have to get used to him being around you, invading the safe space you'd worked so hard to create for you and your son, as much as it tore your body and mind apart thanks to your mixed feelings about him.

"You sure?" He pushed himself off the doorframe which he'd been leaning on, getting back to his full height so he could tower over you, glancing at the tiny sofa. "You think I'll fit?"

"It pulls out." Unlike you. "You'll fit."

Once again, it seemed that he couldn't even get the words out to thank you, nodding in response before turning back to look at his sleeping son in the nursery's background. You pushed past him to get to the cupboard that sat in the corner, rummaging through it for some relatively clean and warm blankets, keeping an ear out just in case decided to walk a bit too close to Tommy, still a bit on edge when it came to him spending time around your son.

"D'you have a balcony I can use?" He cut through the silence, dangling a packet of cigarettes in front of your face to make his advances clear.

Although you weren't a chronic smoker yourself, you had indulged in a cig once in a while, and you knew that it sometimes did help soothe your anxiety or stress, and by the looks of how Simon was fidgeting in his spot and his fingers were clearly itching towards the lighter in his pocket, it was quite clear he was in need of one.

"I don't. Use the window furthest from Tommy's room." You pointed out of the room towards the window you'd been staring out of before. You watched him stroll out, opening up the window and letting in a gust of cold wind in the process, making you speed up your work so you could close the door faster and Tommy wouldn't get a chill.

"You can't smoke around Tommy, you know that, right? If you're really going to be in his life, I'm going to need you to quit while you're here." You commented as you placed down the blankets onto an armchair before moving onto the sofa bed itself, removing some of the cushions before resuming.

"'lright." He muttered between a few inhales of the smoke, his voice much clearer now that he'd pulled his mask up to his nose, letting you gaze upon the beard that had grown over his lower face, something that hadn't been there before. But you assumed that a year-long mission wouldn't really allow you to take time to shave. "Jus' really needed this."

"I get it." You grunted as you grabbed onto the flimsy handle at the bottom and pulled out the second part of the sofa's mattress, almost landing on your behind if it weren't for one of Simon's hands on the small of your back, helping you regain your balance before he went back to taking puffs of his cigarette next to the window.

Soon enough, Simon's cigarette burnt down to a stub, flicking it out the window and down onto the concrete below, turning back around to where you were finishing up what would be his bed tonight, tucking in some of the ends of the sheets and stuffing pillows into covers.

"Here." He spoke, his voice back to being muffled as he pulled the mask back down, taking the pillow from your hands and pushing it into the cover without any effort.

"Pillows might be a bit stiff. These are really old." You didn't even bother thanking him, taking the pillows and fluffing them up to the best of your ability, before propping them up on the armrest. "Do you want to, uhm." You gestured towards the black smudged paint around his eyes. "Clean up?"

"It's fine. I've slept worse."

He started to pull off his jacket, his shirt going with it for a moment and exposing his midriff and happy trail, immediately snapping your head away from the sight.

That's how Simon ended lying on the pretty well made sofa, shoes and jacket discarded next to him with a thin blanket draped over his tired body, balaclava still resting over his face despite being plunged in the darkness that was broken whenever a car passed by outside or by the soft glow of his son's fluorescent stars that decorated his ceiling.

Simon was aware of how long he'd gone without having a good night's sleep, that he should at least try to catch a few minutes of sleep at best, but he couldn't find the energy to even close his eyes. He knew that after such a long and exciting mission his body had to come down from it slowly, taking a few days of getting used to the sudden serenity that enveloped him before he could fully relax and find some sleep.

And so he lied there, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and listening to the snores that came from his son's room and the shuffling and incoherent murmurs that came from yours, the constant affirmation that you both were fine enough of a substitute for the sleep he was missing.

And he was… content like that, for a while. Listening to the both of you sleep and tapping his fingers against his chest in an attempt to ground himself and to shove away any unwanted thoughts that would forcibly make their way into his already broken mind.

Until one of the cars outside backfired, a sound Simon had gotten used to after driving all those barely working cars they'd find in the way during missions, producing a sound that echoed throughout the living room, making Simon instinctively flinch, his fingers gripping down on the blanket hard enough to rip it, not having expected to hear a sound so akin to a bomb or a grenade while he was lying down calmly near his newfound family.

Fuck, he was pathetic. It was horrible how such an innocent sound made his instincts go haywire, his skin prickle with goosebumps and his heart skip a beat.

But clearly, as Tommy's cries rang out through the flat, he hadn't been the only one to be disturbed.

"Fuck." The blanket pooled down onto the floor next to his discarded clothes, pushing himself off the sofa and passing by your bedroom, where you were still presumably sleeping, your body wriggling beneath the covers as your brain attempted to keep you asleep.

You'd mentioned that Tommy had gone down easily this time, so it was relatively early for yourself to go to bed, and he'd heard you mutter to yourself as you climbed into bed that you were going to enjoy your rest, so staying on the sofa and waiting for you to wake up, was not going to happen, especially after all the trouble he'd gone through with convincing you to let him in Tommy's life.

This was part of being a father, a parent, waking up at ungodly hours of the night to take care of your fussing baby.

He carefully made his way towards Tommy's crib, removing his gloves in order to not scare him with an unknown touch, although he doubted that his calloused fingers would be any better substitute.

"S'alright." He murmured, a finger softly prodding at his chubby belly in order to catch his attention, the boy's wails only getting louder as he caught sight of his father's skulled balaclava. "Oh, fu- Look, hey, look at me."

Without any hesitation, Simon ripped off his mask, his hair getting messed up in the process but he couldn't care less, only focused on getting his son to recognise him as a human man and not the goddamn grim reaper who'd come for him.

Tommy sniffled as he toned down the fussing, blue eyes darting all over his father's face as if committing it to memory, chubby fingers leaning down to grab at the one Simon had woken him up with, and much like he did with any other thing he found lying around, shoved it right in his mouth, drooling around it.

A breathless chuckle escaped Simon's mouth as he watched him roll and fuss around his finger, resting his other arm on the crib and lying his head against it, transfixed with the sight of his small son.

A few tears were still running down his chubby cheeks, but he seemed to have calmed down now, Simon's finger acting like some sort of replacement for the pacifier that laid abandoned next to him.

"C'mon. Stop cryin'." He grumbled, pulling his finger out of his grasp and placing his large hands beneath Tommy's small body, carefully picking him up (making sure to support his little head like he'd seen you do) and propping him up in the crook of his arm, letting him squirm around for a bit until he found the perfect position. "You're a wriggly one aren't you?"

As expected, he didn't get any response apart from the thousand yard stare his son looked up at him with, similar to the one he occasionally gave Johnny to watch him freak out. Now that he did look at him closely, he could pinpoint how many features he'd inherited from his father's side, his shaggy hair, his blue eyes, his slightly crooked nose, even the chubby rolls and fingers he remembered seeing in his little brother.

"That's a boy." Tommy's eyes started to droop with every second he spent lying in his father's arms, his tears drying out and coos leaving his mouth instead of the agonising cries. "Feelin' better?"

He blindly walked over to the small chair he'd spotted in the corner of the room when he'd first walked in, grunting like his grandfather did as he sat down, careful to not squish or drop Tommy in the process, his hands tightening around him as the chair slightly reclined, the chair's feature catching him off guard and instantly activating the instinct to protect the small human in his arms that depended on him.

But Tommy didn't even flinch, giggling at the warmth that enveloped him and snuggling further into the blanket and his father's arms in the process, eyes still fixed on the dark paint that adorned his father's.

Finally, after their second staring match of the night, Tommy's eyelids finally closed, losing the battle and falling prey to sleep, something Simon silently wished he could too. Resting him in one arm, he pulled his balaclava back down, feeling a bit too exposed now that the need to have it off had ceased. He leaned his head back on the rest and stared up at the dim glowing stars, focusing on the steady breaths that racked his son's tiny body and the faint feeling of his heartbeat against his arm.

He could… he could really get used to this.

Having such a small thing in his arms, something he was responsible for, something he was supposed to love and care for, a purpose to continue the dangerous life he'd thrusted himself in. He was a father now. And although he knew barely nothing about being one, he'd learn. He hoped it wasn't a one time thing and that Tommy had truly taken a liking to him, that he was going to be able to take at least a bit off the load that you carried by helping in whatever way he could, whether it was bonding with his on or simply financially if that's all you wished of him.

He was a bit too lost in his thoughts as he reclined further in the plush chair, pressing Tommy to his chest so he was half lying on him, half still resting in his arms, a pretty comfortable position for the both of them.

"-mon."

"Simon!"

The blond was jolted awake by a pair of hands shaking him, his immediate instinct being to search around for the baby he remembered falling asleep with, blurry vision darting around to find him cooing and gurgling in your arms, hands latched onto your sleep shirt.

He turned to look out the window while cracking his neck, disoriented and confused about what time it was, the subtle sun rays that shone through the clouds and into the nursery telling him enough.

Had he fallen asleep? Like, actually slept for over an hour without waking up or any disturbances?

"'m sorry." His voice was deeper after a good night's rest, you noted as he rubbed his eyes with the bottom of his palm in an attempt to clear the blurriness, choosing to ignore the click of your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "Time?"

"'bout eight." You said, bouncing Tommy in your arms as you nodded towards the clock that hung up above him, eyes darting back down to see him hunched over, hands beneath his balaclava rubbing away the sleep in his eyes and no doubt spreading the face paint everywhere. "Tommy needs to have breakfast so I just assumed you'd want to be woken up as well. But, you're, uhm, welcome to sleep longer, I guess."

"No, I'm fine. I have to get up." Within a second, he was at his feet, Tommy staring up at him in awe as if he were gazing upon a giant, one of his chubby hands leaving your shirt to try and grab onto his, but Simon had left before he could even make first contact.

"You stayed here to talk, remember?" You said snappily at him as you followed, watching him pick up all his stuff. "We should talk."

His shoulders deflated mid tying his boot, a solemn nod in response like even talking to you was a chore, and after the night you'd had the day before, any little irritating thing like that was going to be enough to set you off.

"I want to be a part of Tommy's life. I've made that clear."

"I know. And that's… fine. But we're going to need boundaries."

He sighed, turning around with his other boot dangling from his hand, leaning his side on the wall opposite what had been supposed to be his bed for the night (the horror you'd felt when you saw him gone and your son's door open was unmeasurable), and nodding once again, eyes looking down at you expectantly.

Oh. Right. You were the one speaking.

"Well, for starters… if you really can't tell me more about your job than you already have, I want you to at least keep me updated whenever you leave for work. I.. I don't want any more surprises."

I don't want to feel the way I felt during that year again.

"Alright."

You nodded, pulling Tommy closer as he became enamoured with the necklace that dangled from your neck, trying his mighty best to pull the charm in his mouth as you talked. "And, if you stay over, you take the couch. And not taking Tommy out without me. Until… further notice." You feared you were being a bit too strict with him, but simply reminding yourself that this was in fact, basically a stranger who just happened to father your child, and you'd have to take preventive measures until you were sure that you could leave Tommy alone with him.

Simon ignored the slight pain that stabbed at his heart when you said that, but… it was understandable. You'd been with Tommy longer than him, hell, you'd carried him for a whole 9 months, you had a stronger bond with your son than he had. For both of your safety and his, he'd go along with anything you'd say.

After agreeing with a simple nod and finishing tying up his shoes, he walked up to you both, fingers brushing against your clavicle as he pulled your necklace out of Tommy's mouth, blue eyes fixated on yours. "Send me your bank details later. I'll deposit some money for you both. As much as you need."

He hesitated a few moments before pulling his fingers away, instead running them down Tommy's nose bridge before pulling away, pulling a giggle out of him.

"O-okay."

He nodded, leaning down to zip up his duffle bag before strapping it over his shoulder, jacket in his other arm since it was relatively warm outside for a morning in Manchester. "Text me if y'need anything. I'll answer this time… I promise."

You winced, the subject of his disappearance still a touchy matter despite everything you'd both discussed the night before, but by the way he hesitated before speaking, the way he was awkwardly standing in the main corridor, he was either very obviously lying or telling the truth.

You hoped it was the latter.

"...okay. Goodbye, Simon."

The moment the door opened, the doorbell rang out, making you and Tommy flinch at the loud sound and Simon grumble at being the main victim of the ringer.

Your neighbour was standing there, finger on the bell, furrowed eyebrows glaring up at the intimidating man.

"Good morning?" You poked your head around Simon's large frame, Tommy hiding his face in the crook of your neck as if able to sense the confrontation about to happen. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, no. Sorry, just. I think I speak for everyone in this building that we'd appreciate it if you'd keep that baby o'yours quiet once in a while. Barely gotten any sleep these days 'cause of his bloody crying." He frowned, glaring down at the baby in question, as if he was truly to blame for something he was barely able to control. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment, having remembered that you'd already expected this last night when Tommy had burst into tears the first time, and then the second time when you were asleep.

"Right, I'm s-"

"Babies cry." Ghost interrupted, glare fixed on the man in front of you both, hand tightening around the doorframe much like when he'd been trying to convince you to let him in. "Y'can't really help it."

"Well you can shut him up-"

"And we did. Wondering if I'm going to need to do the same to you." He said gruffly, almost puffing his chest out of pride when he saw the man's colour drain from his face. It was a bit of a shitty rebuttal, in hindsight, but when it came from the beast of a man that he was, it was enough to make a grown man like the one in front of him piss his pants. "'m I?"

"N-no, sir."

"Sorted." He watched the neighbour scurry off back into his apartment like a bug of sorts, turning back to you with an amused glint in his normally inexpressive eyes. "Bother you often?"

"Yeah." You said breathlessly, actually impressed with how quickly he'd been able to get rid of him, like your own personal pest exterminator. "Thank you."

"He won't anymore." He stepped out into the hall, sparing you and your son one last glance before awkwardly lifting his hand up in an attempt to say goodbye, Tommy immediately trying to reach over to him with a plump hand, fingers flexing as if trying to use the force to pull his dad back.

"He'll be back, duck, don't worry… he's not leaving."

Ghost pressed the button to the elevator, willing himself enough strength to not turn around immediately at the sounds of his soon cooing and whining at him, the soft words you spoke plunging a spear into his cold heart.

He'd be back. He promised.

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#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #ghost x female reader #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost fanfiction #ghost x fem!reader #ghost fic #cod mwii x reader #cw pregnancy #— ménage

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feralforfrank · 1 year

Text

NOTHING'S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary reader gets injured while looking out for the team and simon riley worries.

cw descriptive scenes of reader getting injured, cod canon violence, stab wounds & blood loss, worried!simon riley. angst!!!!! hurt with tiny bit of comfort (from simon to reader) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. tell me if i missed anything!

a/n is this deserving of a part two? does it feel rushed? is THIS really how i want to enter the cod mw2 fandom!?!! so many questions.

masterlist | taglist

"Ghost," you spoke his name in a hushed tone, mainly to hide from the enemy but also to hide the shake in your voice.

"I'm here, Owl. I'm coming to get ya." You could hear Ghost running, and you tried to focus on the sounds he made instead of the stinging pain on your thigh and side.

It was your fault. All of it. You were supposed to be on the roof, not on the goddamn ground. You're a sniper, for fuck's sake. But being above ground, you spotted two men making their way to where the team's getaway car was. You weren't allowing them to steal your vehicle, but if you shot at them, it would alert the others, and your position would've been compromised.

You knew how to fight. Although you never liked engaging the enemy face to face and your eyes were better used above ground, thus why you were a sniper and why they called you Owl, Ghost and Soap trained you to take down men as big as them.

The first man went down quickly, he was skinny, and you surprised him. He was gurgling on his one blood in seconds. The second guy pinned you to the wall. You took your second knife from your right thigh strap and pierced his stomach twice. He was slipping from your grasp when you felt the knife you'd used on him puncture your thigh.

You screamed. A shriek left your mouth before you could stop it. Your thigh throbbed as you landed a final blow on the side of the man's neck. You stumbled off the wall, blinking the tears and black dots away. You heard someone call your name through comms, but you didn't have time to answer.

The third man came behind you. He must've heard you scream. He circled his buff biceps around your throat and squeezed. Fight and flight kicked in. Andrenaline was pumping in your bloodstream, and, without thinking twice, you bit his bicep. Hard.

He cursed and moved away from you for a split second, and you got a chance to suck in a breath. You stumbled forward, but he caught you, spinning you around and pulling you so impossibly close.

At first, you didn't feel it. A shot rang out, and his body slumped forward, distracting you. The man was dead in your arms, and his blood had splattered on your face and continued spilling on your shoulder. Your head shot up to your station—that's where the gunshot had come from. Gaz asked you if you were okay. You tried to nod, and that's when you felt it.

Your ears started ringing. You stepped back, the man falling completely from your grasp and onto the ground. You choked on your breath. Your hand instinctively fell to your side and then rose in front of your face. You were bleeding from two places now.

Gaz called for you again, but you didn't answer. You felt dizzy, and as much as you tried blinking those black spots away, they just wouldn't go. You leaned against the wall. Ghost ordered your whereabouts, and Gaz answered him hurriedly, adding that he could see you losing consciousness. So, that's who shot from your position. Ghost confirmed that he was coming your way.

And that's how you ended up in this position.

"Please, hurry." Your cry of pain made the lieutenant's pace pick up.

Ghost always had some sort of a soft spot for you. Your kind-hearted, friendly nature and bubbly personality didn't help his growing infatuation. You were too sweet for your own good, and he swore your sarcastic comments directed mostly at Soap always managed to melt his heart.

The guys weren't oblivious—they could see how Ghost always stared at you. His hard eyes seemed to soften when looking at you. Actually, his whole posture changed when you were around. Ghost was always near you, a soft hand placed on your lower back and guiding you when you were in the dark during missions, and glances were thrown at you when you were too quiet to make sure you were doing okay.

Soap and Gaz had joked about his fascination with you, asking him why he never made a move. He'd shut them down and called them inappropriate before lowering his head to hide how flustered he felt. He thought burying those teenage sentiments at the very back of his mind would be the best. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, and for fuck's sake, he was your superior.

But as he heard your breath come out in gasps and Gaz telling him to hurry up through comms, he felt panic inside him. His steps became more urgent, and his grip on the gun tightened. He was almost there.

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you." Ghost's voice was filled with utter panic and anxiety, and he took a breath to get rid of the shake in his tone. "I'm almost there, darlin'."

Fuck.

He hadn't meant for that to slip out. He heard your breath hitch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

He turned the corner, and there you were, slumped on the wall, holding your side with your palm and breathing heavily. He placed his gun in its holster and ran toward you. You collapsed with a groan, your forehead touching his vest.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I'm so sorry. They were—They were trying to escape with our c-car, and I couldn't let—I couldn't let them—" You gasped for breath as Ghost looked around at the dead bodies.

It was dark, but he could make out three silhouettes, definitely larger frames than yours, and they all lay dead in a puddle of their own blood.

"It's okay, it's alright, love. I'm here now. I'm not goin' anywhere." A soft whimper escaped your lips, and he felt your body give in to the fatigue caused by the blood loss.

Ghost picked you up, requesting the rest of the team to meet him at his location. The car was unlocked and untouched, and his heart swole with pride. You'd taken out three soldiers to protect the team and secure their getaway transportation.

You mumbled his name as he placed you in the backseat. He quickly got in, and pulled you in his arms again, one palm pressing on your wounded side and the other on your bleeding thigh.

Soap slipped in the driver's seat, Gaz following right behind him. "How's she doing, Lt.?" The former asked, glancing behind him once.

"She'll be fine if you move this goddamn car!" Ghost's tone was sharp, but Soap didn't take it personally.

"Where to, Ghost?" John asked.

"The safe house. Make sure no one follows us. As soon as we're in the clear, Gaz, you call Price. Tell 'im to send evac." Gaz nods curtly, followed by a yes, sir.

"Simon." You shift, snuggling closer to his body.

The frown on your face deepens. Simon looks down at you. His heart hasn't stopped its rapid beating, and worry mixed with panic is still swirling in his blood. He wants to tell John to hurry the fuck up, but he knows the soldier is going as fast as possible.

You whine in distress, your eyes blinking ever so slowly. Your ears ring, your gaze is unfocused, and your eyes are glassy with tears ready to fall.

"Shh, it's alright, love," Simon whispers. "You're goin' be okay."

"Am I dying?" You speak in hushed panic.

Simon shakes his head quickly from side to side as if your words burned him. "No, you're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed, okay? I can fix it." He's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince you.

"Are they after us?" He shakes his head again. "So, we're safe? I'm safe?"

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. As long as I'm here, no one's hurting you again, ya hear me?" The finality in his voice is the reassurance you need to soothe you.

You feel your eyes drooping again, and the ringing in your ears finally fades out. "Thank you, Simon."

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lavender-romancer · 1 month

Text

Starving

Astarion x (Durge) Reader

CW: angst, fluff, sexual tones

He needed you. But in his dark pit of starvation he feared he pushed you away past the point of return.

*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*

You didn't seek love in Astarion no matter how much you wanted it. What would affection and adoration do for him when what he really needed was a friend, a confidante. Someone he would never think was using him. After so many years of abuse that violated his very understanding of intimacy and consent, you wouldn't dream of overstepping any boundary in existence. Trying to talk him off a metaphorical ledge of ostracism was more important than physical urges. He didn't need to feel alone or terrified someone would hurt him again. Whilst Astarion could easily protect himself, you decided that when he wasn't hiding in the shadows you would protect him from any enemy he came across.

After saving Faerûn the two of you had decided to live together, much to Astarions confusion, you wanted to stay close to him. Offer up your blood freely to him and create somewhere that felt safe for him. He was still plagued with nightmares, but you began reading deeper into alchemy to try and help him through his trances.

He never understood why you were so supportive of him. 200 years and he never met anyone so genuinely dedicated without expecting much in return. All you asked was that he wouldn't run away if they had an argument and that he wouldn't feed on any other people. It was simple and there was a deep rooted respect between the both of you no matter how much you flirted with one another, there was a boundary. It had never been crossed, he had never been touched without giving his consent, just as Astarion would never touch you or bite you without consent.

Why you had decided to help and live with him after everything that happened was beyond him. Why not Shadowheart? Or maybe Halsin? Even Gale would- Astarion had to stop himself in thought as he remembered how utterly boring he found Gale. He was much better company, even with a very slight fondness for the wizard, Gale was hardly a casual conversationalist. Mostly resorting to threats about hurling a fireball at someone or casually reminding everyone he was a walking bomb. No, Astarion was more fun. Maybe that was why you liked being around him? But he had become so comfortable with you, he found it so easy to talk about his past when the two of you would sit by the fire in your respective arm chairs and read.

Those moments in front of the crackling logs were monumentally special to him, he had no idea how to express his gratitude

You expected so little, asked for much less and respected him. Whenever he would make a mistake or break something he would immediately start profusely apologising, still mentally conditioned to expect a physical punishment regardless of remorse. But all you did was ask for his help to clean up the mess and you both moved on, you were two barely functioning adults but seemed to help one another. You still remembered little from your past, your childhood or anything in between but helping Astarion gave you a purpose that mattered. It was hard to focus on your own shortcomings when you had a whiny (bitchy) vampire to live with and help. But it worked. The two of you were trying to be normal and doubted that you could on your own.

Whilst the two of you had your own demons you were in a pact of some sorts, neither of you wanted to leave the other to deal with those demons alone. Your other companions were constantly confused by whatever your relationship was. Assuming it was romantic and sexual but, being even more confused upon finding out it wasn't. There was always a feeling something would happen between the two of you, but neither you, nor Astarion would admit it. Both of you too scared that you would lose the other forever if anything romantic happened.

“What wine would you like?” You asked, walking into the front room holding two bottles of red. Astarion was sitting in his armchair illuminated by the fire. The orange hue danced around the shadows of his face and it made you want to take him in your arms and never let go.

“Whatever is older, darling. Things do rather improve with age you know.” Astarion replied with a slight smirk and you rolled your eyes.

He couldn't take his eyes off you as you left, the way you leant against the doorway showed the curve of your stomach and hips. Astarion had to snap his brain out of it as he realised he was staring at the curve of your breasts as you turned to leave. Why was he so unbearably horny today? He supposed it was the night that he usually fed on you. Maybe his bloodlust created a different kind of lust all together? He had been admiring you like this for too long now, it couldn't be bloodlust that made his cock twitch and the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Sparing quick looks as you made a confused face when you were reading and got to a word you struggled with, he loved when you would ask for help so openly and without shame . It was something he desperately envied about your character. Your nose would sometimes scrunch up when he would tell you how to pronounce the word because apparently it was “stupid to have silent letters”. But recently, especially when he had been feeding on you, he couldn't stop wanting to touch you. He wanted to pull you close and never let you go, fuck you for hours and never leave your side.

“I made something for you. Well. Decanted I suppose.” You walked back into the front room with two goblets of wine and a vial of something tucked under your arm.

“What's that?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. After setting the goblets down you handed the vial to him. He already knew what it was before looking more closely, he could smell it. Your beautiful sweet blood.

“For your convenience.” You smiled down at Astarion but he didn't look best pleased. You thought this might be easier, at least for you. Everytime he fed on you all you wanted was to touch him, get some kind of friction because to your shame it made you so ridiculously aroused.

“When did you…” his voice trailed off and your palms began to sweat.

“Do you not like the idea?” You asked sheepishly, ready to snatch the vial back.

“Well, darling, the feeding process is a nice experience and it…” he was trying to find any words to retain the physical closeness you had whilst feeding. “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you last time it happened?”

“What makes you ask that?” You sat down in the armchair adjacent to his.

“I…” He felt if he opened up that things would never be the same. So it was easier to close everything off again. “If you would like to change things I can go back to stalking other pretty things in the night.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Sometimes you're impossible. This is more convenient for when I'm not here or when I-”

“When you eventually leave, you mean.” The words crawled out of his mouth with such malice.

“I did not say that, Astarion. Stop acting like a child and communicate!” You yelled back as the heat rose into your face and your eyes began to prick.

“Oh shall I get on my knees and pray to the saint that has allowed me to exist with her blood? There are plenty of places I can get it if you won't offer up your neck for free!” He fired back, getting just as riled up.

“I'm freely giving you my fucking blood! I'm still giving it to you. What difference does it make? I try so hard. So fucking hard to make you feel secure and understood but you react to everything like a child!” You stood up and walked a few paces towards the fire with your back to him.

“I didn't realise I was such an inconvenience in your pretty little head.” Astarion almost laughed, a petty attempt to get a rise out of you when he was quickly running out of options to keep you close to him. You stayed quiet for a moment, one hand on your stomach, the other leaning on the mantle above the fire as if you were bracing yourself for the pain to follow.

“I just want the best for you. For our friendship and I…” your voice broke as you choked down the urge to sob.

“Yes, our precious friendship.” He sounded so vindictive that you wondered if he really cared about you at all.

“Do you not want it? Our friendship?” Your voice was so small and defeated.

“Oh, making me the bastard in this situation is just pathetic. After two hundred years of pure shit where I was always in the wrong and punished for it I don't want to hear it anymore!” He roared back at you. When he stood up you actually flinched, a fleeting thought crossed your mind that this was when he would ignore every warning and just drink you dry.

“I-” You tried to speak but you couldn't. All you wanted was to cry, just let it all out because the emotions were too much for you to carry anymore. The carnal desire you felt for him, the deep and earnest care you felt and the sense of responsibility for his well being. It always seemed that you were in control when really he held all the cards.

“Fucking hells.” Astarion muttered angrily before storming upstairs. You could finally sit back in your chair and cry.

Staring into the flames that usually brought you so much comfort but now, they just made you yearn for a life that was never lived. So long ago he said you were the only person he had ever truly cared about, that he would never hurt you and never leave your side. Those longing looks you'd steal when he'd laugh or the way you played into his flirting from the first day you met him. To this day you remembered nothing before the nautiloid, but, you knew Astarion. You knew he'd be there when you came home and would listen to your anxieties. He had always been in your life as far as you were concerned. So why had everything changed over something so ridiculous as the way you gave him your blood?

You pulled your knees up to your chest and sobbed, he wouldn't be there when you woke up and you knew it was all over. He's gone now, he's running away from your grasp and you'll never get him back no matter what you want from him- the voices in your head told you. You hit your forehead repeatedly trying to get them to shut up but they wouldn't subside. Why did you ever think he loved you? That he needed you for more than a pretty little snack? You wait around hoping he'll take more fucking interest in you when he wants nothing more than your beautiful blood. You should drain him of every drop in his body. It would serve him right, the decimation of a monster.

You wanted to scream. To pull out your brain and scrub out the voices, hurt yourself to a point where you would no longer care about what Astarion did to you. But how could any pain, any anguish overcome the love you felt for him? The Urge. The Urge was clawing it's way out of the depths of your psyche. How could it really be gone when it had penetrated every memory you currently held. You didn't know life without the torturous spasms and depraved thoughts. You thought they might end with the death of your butler but, no. The Urge was ever present.

The fire crackled and lit the shadows of the room, yet you couldn't feel its warmth as you sat cold and alone. He was your warmth, your sun, your stars. Whenever you spoke to him your day would be brighter and your head clearer. Seeing him would make you smile and make you feel safe. You cursed yourself, you should never have been so dependent.

He felt like shit. Utter shit. Why had he exploded like that? What was the point when you didn't do anything wrong, it was your neck he drank from and yet he felt some kind of authority? No, it was not his place nor his decision and he really did feel like the fucking idiot. As he was about to leave his room to apologise he heard it. The noise that haunted him whenever he heard it. Your sobs, that permeated into his soul and made his dead heart ache. He adored you so deeply that whenever it felt like you were pulling away he would double down on harshness. It made him feel in control of the situation because, if he was the first to leave then he won.

Astarion sat down quietly on the stairs. Wanting to wait till your sobs subsided but they seemed full of a sadness that would never subside. All you ever did was help him, try to find a way for him to walk in the sun, sate his bloodthirst and yet… sometimes in his irrational brain it felt like you were trying to find a way to fix him so you could leave. When he was broken you could fix him in a never ending loop. But as soon as he was put back together there was no reason for the two of you to exist together. He would never get to be close to you, never touch you or hear you laugh. But now, due to his own stupidity you would leave anyway but this time with hatred for him.

Just his luck that he would be turned into a monstrous vampire, be threatened with turning into a mindflayer but the true evil was always inside of him. It felt ridiculous when he pondered on it. He was so at home here with you, so comfortable and safe but it was never enough. The evil inside of him would always rise up and ruin everything around him.

He felt like such a fucking bastard to make you cry. Make you feel so lonely that you would feel the need to cry, which you rarely did. Once or twice in the many years you'd known one another he had held you as you cried. Whispered words of support and affirmation as he held you close, it was such a rarity that he reminisced on those moments more than he cared to admit. Being able to be a comfort to you was ridiculously cathartic for him.

For centuries he had been a death sentence to everyone he got close to. Cazadors favourite errand boy, collecting lost pretty souls for him to gorge his ascension depravity on. He would never overcome that guilt, not that he should- it was his cross to bear. But being your comfort, your home… it made it all less soul crushing. When Astarion was with you he felt worthy, like he had a purpose to be your protector when you were really his. He felt safe and respected and if he ruined that then maybe he deserved to step into the sun.

Deciding it would be better if he slipped away quietly he waited for your sobs to subside. Suspecting you were asleep he crept down the stairs and stayed to the back wall, hoping to avoid his shadow being plastered on the wall in front of you.

“Is this it then?” You said quietly and it surprised even Astarion that his hiding skills had become so lax of late.

“What?” Was all he could say, bewildered at why you would care if he would leave.

“Is this it? Are you leaving me?” You slowly stood up and faced him, your eyes still watering.

“I thought it might be easier if I left when I thought you were asleep. It appears my hiding deficiency needs some serious attention.” He tried to smile and make some joke to thinly veil his panic.

“Please. Don't, Astarion.” You took one step closer to him and he wasn't sure if you were referring to him leaving or the poorly timed joke. The silence continued into what felt like hours to him. Having no clue what the right response would be, he could only remain quiet and hope that you wouldn't tell him to leave.

“Do you want to leave?” You asked, looking down at the floor and trying to hide the very clear tears in your eyes.

“I- if it would be best for you then I will.” Astarion was teetering between each foot, one closer to you and the other closer to the door. Maybe if he left now it would all be less painful, he could learn to forget you. But if he stayed, what if you grew to hate him? He couldn't survive it.

“But do you want to leave?” You asked again, surprised by your pleading tone.

“I don't know.” Was all he said and it was enough for you to lose all hope, you wanted to cry until it hurt but it wasn't fair on him. If he wanted to leave then you shouldn't be restricting him.

“If this is the last time I ever see you, I'm sorry. I thought I was doing the best thing for our friendship because I couldn't remain your friend and-” You interrupted yourself, because it wasn't fair to practically guilt trip him.

“In all the time I have known you, you have only made decisions to better others. But, what do you want?” Astarion turned to fully face you, no longer edging towards the door.

All you wanted to say was that you wanted him. You just wanted him, in whatever form that would take it didn't matter as long as he stayed. You could remain friends, though you'd always crave more but, it was better than never seeing him again.

“I want,” you paused, pondering on a response that wouldn't send him running away into the night. “I want you to be happy.” Astarion looked at the floor and smiled.

“My ever generous confidante. That can't be the only thing you desire, the only thing that you want. My happiness is inconsequential compared to your own.” He wanted to reach out, show that you didn't have to worry about him. Prove that he could stand on his own without needing you but he wasn't so sure it was true. The constant insecurities he had were only amplified by the possibility that you would see his shortcomings and push him away.

“Inconsequential? How can you even consider that? I care about you more than myself sometimes and I don't see it as a weakness. We support one another, help one another and what is the point of any of this if I have to pretend that something matters more to me than your happiness? You have no idea how important you are, how loved.” You said it without thinking and the fear was evident in your eyes to Astarion as he had the same look on his own face.

As much as he wanted your adoration, your love? It absolutely terrified him. Was it all just bloodlust? Was he using you as some willing blood bag? If he stopped feeding on you at any point would it all fade away into nothingness and he'd realise none of it was love, it was his insatiable hunger? The silence between the two of you felt cursed, the one to break it would have to be a stronger man than he was because he was too scared to say a word. Rooted in place, not able to flee because of that look in your eyes. He couldn't leave whilst you looked so terrified, he had an urge to take you in his arms. But he didn't, he stayed in place

“Astarion?” You sounded terrified.

“Your life would be so much easier without me.” He sounded so genuinely exasperated, unable to understand why you would want him in your life. His eyes welled up and he looked so beautiful in the light of the fire and, you couldn't help but feel more drawn to him.

“And?” You replied, more determined than ever to prove how you cared for him.

“That's all you have to say?” He asked and you nodded, it elicited a laugh from him that sounded hollow and yet relieved.

“You make my life better. It feels enriched and happy, you are the only person who calms me and comforts me. The only one I am completely comfortable with, the only one I want to be around this much.” you held one of his hands tentatively.

“You’re shaking, darling.” Astarion softly told you, leading you to your armchair and sitting you down.

“If your only reason is that it is better for me, please stay. I want you to stay here with me and we can carry on as we always have and-” he stopped you mid sentence putting a hand up.

“I don't think we can continue as we always have my darling.” He let out a sigh and you dug your nails into the arm of the chair.

“Then…what do we do?” You asked, still feeling like you were shaking and feeling even more pathetic by the minute.

“I mean, I don't know how any of this works, what comes next or what you exactly want from me.” whilst he couldn't reach your gaze he didn't seem upset.

“Well what do you want from me?” Your voice was strained and anxious, you were so completely convinced he would tell you that he wanted space from you.

“More, more than this. I don't… how the hells do you do all of this?” He sounded a mixture of happy and confused.

“Slowly. If that's what you want, it's not exactly that much of a transition from how we were. Less longing glances and more actual contact I suppose? I haven't ever had a companionship. Well, if I have it's before I lost my memory so this is… intimidating.” Your eyes flicked from the floor to Astarions anxiously.

“I don't remember ever having it either. We really are the weirdos of our odd little group aren't we. Even La'zel has probably had a companion. Losing to La'zel when it comes to romance is not something I plan on continuing.” Astarion held your hand tighter, looking up into your eyes.

“I care about you, so much.” You placed a hand on his cheek and he leant into it.

“Stop being so nice to me. Makes me feel like a good person. Ugh.” Astarion mocked disgust but you knew he loved the praise.

“Only leave me if you want to. Will you promise me that?” your thumb stroked across his cheek and you saw a single tear fall across your hand.

“Darling, I will never want to leave you, and the fact that you willingly give me a choice makes it clearer that I want to stay with you.” Astarion pulled your hand up to his face and kissed the back of it before hugging you around your stomach. Leaning his head on your lap. You finally relaxed and stopped shaking, stroking his hair in the firelight, you both existed in perfect happiness.

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