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#nix x reader
mads-nixon · 2 months
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Night Changes
Lewis Nixon x Wife!Reader
Masterlist
A/N: thanks to @footprintsinthesxnd for inspiring me to finally finish this wip from back in october!! for once, this isn't a heart-wrenching fic that makes you cry your eyes out...it's super fluffy!! Hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: morning sickness & pregnancy, nothing else except for tooth-rotting fluff :)
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Nixon, New Jersey: April 1950
"What are you thinking, sweetheart?"
"What?" (Y/n) sighed, glancing towards her husband from where she sat on the floor.
A chuckle left Lewis' lips as he gestured to the various paint colors on portions of the wall. "Which one? Pink, purple, blue, or yellow?"
Rolling over to her side, (y/n) attempted to get up. With her swollen stomach, it made everything ten times harder than usual.
Lew rushed to her side, "Honey, let me help you."
"I've got it," she grunted, somewhat out of breath.
(Y/n) tried and failed a few times, then let out a huff of air, sighing as she held out her hands for Lew to come and help her up.
He smiled softly, moving to help lift her. "I thought you had it that time."
"Your child has been making things harder on me, lately."
Once they stood up, Lew pulled her close, his hand on her bump. "My child? I'm pretty sure we both made this baby."
(Y/n) pulled back with a look of disgust, fake gagging. "Please don't remind me."
With his signature grin, he pulled her back in, trying to plant a kiss on her lips. "No," she laughed, leaning away to evade his kisses. "We've got to pick out the color for the nursery, Lew!"
"So now you want to get on task, huh?"
(Y/n) giggled as she continued to swerve her husband's kisses. "Yes! We have to get this done!"
"Alright," he conceded. "Just one kiss. Please?"
With an exaggerated eye roll, (y/n) leaned in and pecked his lips quickly. "Come on, doll. One more," he pleaded.
"Nope. You'll get more once we get done picking out the color."
He led her to the wall with the colors and mock saluted her. "Alright, then. Captain Nixon is focused on his next objective."
They had decided to go with the soft yellow because it was more gender-neutral, even though both felt deep down that it was a girl. Staring at their halfway-finished nursery, (y/n) couldn't help but think back to when it all started the year before.
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Indianapolis, Indiana: July 1949
The Nixons sat at the Easy Company reunion with Lip, Dick, and their respective spouses. While the guys all talked, (y/n) spoke with Ethel Winters and JoAnne Lipton about everything from baking to babies. Ethel and Dick had been married for a little over a year and were about to start trying for children. JoAnne and Carwood already had a son, so she told the two women how wonderful it was to be a mom. Hard, but wonderful.
The woman pulled out a picture of the three of them with a proud smile on her face. "Danny turns three next month. He's a spitting image of Car, that's for sure. I love him more than anything in this world."
Looking over at her husband enthralled in a conversation with his best friends, she couldn't help but imagine Lew as a father; holding their little baby in his arms or putting them up on his shoulders. (Y/n) knew he didn't have a good relationship with his father and would do everything to be there for their future children.
She was broken out of her trance by Lew's hand squeezing her thigh gently. "You alright, sweetheart? Why are you crying?"
Eyed widening, she went to wipe the tear that streaked down her cheek, but he beat her to it. "What's wrong?" He asked, eyes full of concern.
"Let's have a baby."
Lewis was taken aback by his wife's bluntness. Sure, they had talked about having kids but had decided to wait a few more years. Hearing that she changed her mind filled his with the same sweet images that appeared in hers moments before. If he was being honest, he had felt ready for a few months but didn't want to mention it to her until she approached him first.
He took her hand and excused them from the table as he led her to the lobby area of the venue. As soon as they turned the corner, Lewis' strong arms enveloped her in a tender embrace, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Their lips met softly, mouths melding together gently. It was a tender and loving kiss that expressed their shared devotion and longing for the next chapter of their lives.
With a gentle smile, they broke apart, their hands still entwined. The room seemed to radiate with the energy of their love and the endless possibilities that lay before them.
"Is that a yes?" (Y/n) asked, short of breath.
He kissed her gently, eye glistening with unshed tears. "Yes, let's start a family."
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Nixon, New Jersey: November 1949
It was a cold and rainy morning when (y/n) stirred in bed, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her once again. This was the third morning in a row, and her eyes flickered over to Lew, who was fast asleep beside her. She always joked that even a freight train wouldn’t wake him up. Clutching her stomach, she quickly sat up, her heart racing as her body was trying to give her a few seconds of warning. (Y/n) barely had time to get to the bathroom, her steps hurried and unsteady as she covered her mouth with her hand. 
Reaching the bathroom just in time, (y/n) dropped to her knees, her body convulsing with dry heaves initially, followed by her dinner from the night before. The sensation was accompanied by a rush of relief, but the butter taste lingered in her mouth. 
Stirred by the sounds from the bathroom, Lew realized something was wrong and came rushing into the bathroom, concern etched across his features. He kneeled beside her, gathering her hair and rubbing her back soothingly. 
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked worriedly, his voice raspy from sleep.
“I don’t know, Lew,” (y/n) replied weakly. “This nausea just won’t go away.”
“I think that we should get you to the doctor,” Nix suggested, worried she might have caught a nasty stomach bug.
She nodded, her mind already racing with a suspicion she dared not speak aloud just yet. “Yeah, maybe,” she answered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
After Lew left for work, (y/n) decided to visit the doctor to get some answers. Anticipation and nervousness bubbled within her as the test was administered. The minutes felt like hours, but finally, the doctor confirmed what she had hoped for – she was pregnant.
Unable to contain her excitement, she hurried back home, her heart bursting with joy. The second she got home, she walked past their extra bedroom, inspiration striking her. The sun cast a soft, golden hue through the lace curtains, illuminating the extra room that held years of collected odds and ends. (Y/n) stood at the threshold, groaning at the old boxes, forgotten furniture, and random oddities that filled the room.
She had a lot of work cut out for her.
After putting on a Nat King Cole album, she took a deep breath and rolled up her sleeves, beginning the task at hand. As she meticulously sorted through the belongings, memories danced in her mind – the dusty bookshelf that held Lew’s childhood favorites, the old rocking chair her mother had gifted her, and the worn-out toys that once brought her so much joy. 
With every box she emptied and every piece of furniture she carefully moved, the room started to transform. The clutter began to vanish, making way for her vision of a nursery filled with love and laughter. She could almost visualize the crib nestled by the window, sunlight streaming in, casting a warm glow on the tiny cradle.
Time seemed to fly as she got lost in the whirlwind of her excitement. As the clock ticked on, (y/n) meticulously organized, cleaned, and dusted, pouring herself into every corner. By the time Nix got home from work, she had cleared out most of the clutter. Her eyes held a sparkle of pride as she surveyed her progress, already lost in the thoughts of cradling their newborn baby in this very room.
Lew opened the door, calling out to her as he did every day. “Honey, I’m home.”
As he put his briefcase onto the kitchen table, he noticed the random items and boxes that were scattered around the kitchen. With a raised eyebrow, he stepped over the clutter and followed the sound of (I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons to the couple’s extra bedroom.
“(Y/n)?” Lew asked as he entered the room, his eyes flicking between the few things left inside.
A rocking chair…
Some old toys…
His old bookshelf filled with children’s books…
She stood in front of the window with a hand covering her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Hey,” she whispered.
Lew’s brows instantly furrowed and he approached her, taking her into his arms. “What’s wrong, doll?”
“I’m happy.”
“You’re happy,” he pondered aloud, “But you’re crying.”
(Y/n) pulled back to look up at his puzzled face. “Yeah.”
“Why the sudden inspiration to clean out the crap in here?”
“Well,” she grinned up at him, her bottom lip wobbling as she spoke. “Our baby can’t have a room full of random stuff, can they?”
As (y/n) looked at him expectantly, he nodded with raised brows. “Yeah, yeah.”
But then his eyes widened suddenly and Lew’s gaze flew to hers. “The what?”
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mads-weasley · 8 months
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Epiphany Pt. 3: Haunted
Lewis Nixon x Reader
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
A/N: hey guys!! i had originally planned for operation market garden to be one chapter, but there were just too many things that i wanted to add, so it will be split up into at least two! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!
Summary: Things aren't as cut and dry as they seem when Easy jumps into Holland for Operation Market Garden, and (y/n) faces a heartbreaking reality.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: slightly graphic mistreatment of women (eindhoven scene)
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SEPTEMBER 13, 1944: ALDBOURNE, ENGLAND
The pub was alive, bustling with half-drunken paratroopers when (y/n) arrived with Skip, Alex, and Don. They were missing their fifth member who they spotted across the bar playing darts with Buck. 
“How much money do ya’ think he’s lost?” Skip asked, snickering as they made their way through the crowd to an empty table. 
(Y/n) grimaced. “As long as he’s not asking me for a loan again, I don’t care. He still owes me $20.”
“Ehh, you’re probably not gonna get that back, (y/n/n), Penkala laughed, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “You should know George well enough by now.”
“Well, the first twenty bucks he gets is mine tonight, boys.”
Finding a booth in the corner, Don, Skip, and (y/n) plopped down while Alex went to get them drinks. They looked around the room and observed some of Bull’s new squad replacements sitting nearby. 
“They don’t look older than twelve,” Skip scoffed, shaking his head.
Don smacked the side of his head, rolling his eyes. “Skip, you don’t look much older than twelve, alright, so ease up.” 
“You’re telling me you don’t even feel a litt-”
“No,” (y/n) interrupted. “I don’t. They’re here the same reason we are.”
Before Skip could argue back, Alex returned with their drinks, and the first thing (y/n) did was gulp hers. To her dismay, Alex had started to ramble about the replacements to Skip, and the pair picked up right where she’d cut him off. With a sigh, she got up and walked over to George, Buck, Toye, and a replacement, who were crowded around the dartboard. They all watched Buck as he lined up a shot.
“Here we go. One shot. Here we go,” he muttered to himself.
When she slid into the space beside George, he smirked with a wink, nodding toward Buck, as if to say, ‘Look at this.’
“Lieutenant,” he began. “You gonna shoot lefty all night?”
Toye and the red-headed replacement’s faces fell, and (y/n) took a sip of her drink to hide her smirk. 
Joe looked between George and Buck in disbelief. “Hey, come on,” He groaned.
“Just curious,” George continued, “‘Cause he’s right-handed.” 
A sly smile grew on Buck’s face as he switched sides and lined up his shot. “George. What would I do without George Luz?”
The group watched as the dart left Buck’s hand and hit the bullseye dead on.
“Boop!”
Collective groans came from Joe and the replacement at George’s antics as he turned to the men. “Goodness, gracious!”
“Two packs, gentlemen,” Compton announced, holding out his hand.
“I know you’ve got them. Pay up.”
Joe looked at (y/n) who was still smirking into her drink. “You gonna let them screw us like that, (y/n)?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t see anything, Joe.”
Rolling his eyes, Toye grumbled as he placed a pack of cigarettes in Buck’s outstretched hand before walking off. The replacement approached (y/n) with a nervous smile, and she had to agree with Skip that he did look twelve, even if he towered over her. 
“Heffron,” he introduced, holding out his hand. “Babe Heffron. Nice to meet you. The guys have told me nothing but great things.”
She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Babe. You’re in Bull’s squad, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Raising her eyebrows, (y/n) snorted. “Ma’am makes me sound like an old woman. Call me (y/n).”
“Yes, ma’a-, I mean, (y/n),” he corrected, his face turning crimson.
Seeing the flash of a familiar silver flask near the door, (y/n) nodded at Babe. “It was nice meeting you, Heffron. You’re in good hands with Bull.”
She found him sitting at a table with Harry Welsh, who looked more tipsy than usual. “(Y/n). Speak of the devil. We wer-”
Nix’s eyes widened, and he kicked Harry discreetly under the table. “You meet the new replacements?” He asked as if Welsh hadn’t spoken.
Raising an eyebrow, she sat in the empty seat beside Lew. “What was that, Lieutenant?”
“Uhh, we were gonna ask you about the replacements,” he replied slowly, glancing at Nix for confirmation.
Though she didn’t understand Harry’s odd behavior, she didn’t push it. “They seem nice. I’ve just met Heffron after George and Buck conned him playing darts.”
Lew took a swig of his flask, throwing an arm on the back of (y/n)’s chair, his fingertips lightly brushing her shoulder. “Bull will take care of them,” he began. “He’s a good sergeant.”
(Y/n) nodded, unsure of her voice at his subtle touch. One touch and she was down for the count. Thinking back to D-Day and the way he held her, heat spread through her. She looked down at the drink in her hand and realized she needed a refill.
“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get another drink,” she announced, getting up from her seat.
Lew got up, too, grabbing his signature flask. “I’ll come with. Harry, don’t cause too much trouble while we’re gone, alright?”
He rolled his eyes, shooing them away with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah. Go on. I’ll survive.”
The duo made their way for the crowd before leaning against the bar. 
“I thought you only drink VAT-69,” she questioned, motioning to the barkeep for two beers.
Nix faced her, his eyes scanning her face. “My supply is running low, so I’ve gotta cut back until I can get some more.”
The bartender returned with two beers and she gratefully took them, returning to their table with Nix in tow. As soon as they sat down, he placed his arm around her chair once again, and she took a big sip of her drink, knowing she would need it to make it through the night. 
“So, how’s the officer’s life treating you two?” She asked, trying to hide the blush that crept up her neck.
Harry took a deep breath. “Well…”
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An hour and a few drinks later, (y/n) was throwing her head back in laughter at something Harry said. Nix just chuckled beside her, knowing she was drunk due to the fact Harry’s comment wasn’t funny at all.
Her head felt as if was stuffed with cotton, and the world was tilted slightly off its axis, but regardless, she was chatting away with the two Lieutenants.
“Ya’know,” she giggled, waving her hands around emphatically. “Kitty’s a lucky gal ‘ta have ya, Har. Outta all-”
Her hand caught a glass and sent it flying, beer spilling across the table. 
“Oh no.”
Lew stood up and gently grasped her elbow, helping her to her feet. “Come on, doll. You’ve had enough.”
“Lewis,” she whined. “I’m not drunk.”
His chuckled. “Really?”
“Uh, ‘yeh.”
“Okay,” he smirked, pointing behind her. “Try to walk to Luz.”
(Y/n) nodded and wobbly took one, two, three steps before tilting to her right, arms flailing. Luckily, Lew was ready and caught her by her waist effortlessly.
“I guess I am drunk,” she murmured into his shoulder. 
Her attempt gained the attention of her squadmates who still sat at the same table from hours earlier. Don and George walked over, faces painted with concern.
“She alright?” Luz asked with a grimace.
“Yeah. She’s just a lightweight,” Nixon smirked, glancing down at the woman in his arms. “I’m gonna take her home.”
Lifting her head off his shoulder, she looked up at him. “Already there,” she whispered to herself.
To her dismay, Don had heard it, and the man’s eyes became saucers as he realized what she meant. Everything clicked in his head.
“Yeah,” he smiled. “I’ll get someone to check on her in the morning.”
With a curt nod, Nix led her out of the pub and was hit with a wave of sharp, chilly air that had her huddling closer to him. He had a secure hand around her waist, keeping her upright as they walked down the cobblestone streets of Aldbourne. 
“You alright down there?” He asked, squeezing her hip gently.
(Y/n) basked in his warmth. “I like it when you hold me.”
The man got choked up on his saliva and coughed a few times at her confession.
“Well,” he began slowly, staring down at her, the moonlight illuminating her face. “I like to hold you.”
“Why?”
A smile formed on his lips. “You can ask me when you’re sober, but I doubt you’ll remember any of this, sweetheart.”
She nodded once against his shoulder as they turned onto her street. Aldbourne was a quiet town, especially on a Sunday night. It was easy for one to find themselves getting lost in their thoughts. The soft glow from windows reflecting off the pavement felt like home, even if they were thousands of miles away from theirs.
In different circumstances, Lew could envision him and (y/n) on their way home from a night dancing or movie picture, giggling as young couples do, oblivious to the horrors of the world. But that wasn’t reality. They’d seen the horrors firsthand, and he envied the people who lived and loved in times of peace.
A soft voice broke him from his thoughts. “Thanks.”
Looking up and realizing they’d arrived at her billet, he reluctantly let go of her. He felt the loss of her warmth and reached out to take her hand. “Drink some water, alright? I can’t have you being grumpy tomorrow because you’re hungover.”
She smiled blearily, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for ev’rythin, Lew.”
In a moment of weakness, he sighed and tugged her closer. As Lew’s strong arms wrapped gently around (y/n)’s frame, he felt her heart beating through her chest, as if it were trying to send him a message. The scent of her hair, a delicate mix of her shampoo, and the evening breeze intoxicated his senses. All he could think about was the woman in his arms. Standing there in the warm embrace of a quiet, moonlit night, it was as if the war wasn’t raging around the world. But just as quickly as it had begun, the hug came to an end. They pulled away, eyes meeting for a fleeting moment as if searching for answers in each other’s gaze.
“G’nigh,” she giggled, walking towards her door with unsteady steps.
“Night, sweetheart,”
Once the door had closed and he heard the familiar click of the lock, he backed up onto the street shaking his head with a bashful smile.
“I’m in trouble,” he chuckled, making his way back to the bar.
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September 14, 1944: ALDBOURNE, ENGLAND
(Y/n) awoke with a groan, hearing dull raps from the front door beneath her. Each knock was like a drum banging inside her skull as she made her way down the stairs. The family she was staying with was on a weekend vacation, and she was thankful their children wouldn’t see her so hungover.
(Y/n) opened the door, squinting at the bright sunlight. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” a kind voice replied. Lip. 
Her eyes widened. “Sorry, Car, I didn’t realize it was you.”
“It’s alright,” he began softly. “You weren’t at the pub last night, so I wanted to let you know we’re moving out again.”
Already?.
“Okay. Thanks, Lip,” (y/n) nodded, eyes sinking to the floor as she closed the door.
Great.
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September 17, 1944: Operation Market Garden
As Easy Company sat in ditches along the road to Eindhoven, an eerie silence hung in the air. Sure, Allied intelligence suspected the Krauts in the country were mostly old men and kids, but the paratroopers were on their toes, ready for whatever would come next.
(Y/n) was sandwiched between George and Skip, who were grumbling back and forth about a failed darts game the night before. 
“Will you two shut up, please?” She laughed softly. “I can’t even hear myself think.”
George smirked, adjusting his helmet. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
A squadron of Allied aircraft roared overhead, and soon after, they approached the town. A window opened, and (y/n) motioned for everyone to get down as she crouched beside a fence. The person pulled out a long orange banner and tied it around the window.
“Okay, hold your fire,” Bull appeared behind them, cigar hanging from his lips.
Staring at the town above her M-1 sight, a deep pang of worry shot through her stomach. Something didn’t feel right.
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The paratroopers couldn’t believe their eyes as the people of Eindhoven celebrated their liberation from the German occupation. Bright orange flags flew from every window, and (y/n) found herself smiling at the pure joy that oozed from the town. 
(Y/n) and George had gotten separated from the rest of their squad in the crowd as they dodged kisses from the locals. Well, (y/n) dodged their kisses. After a few girls tried to land a smooch on her lips, she removed her helmet, showing she was a woman. Soon the town's men caught on and were trying to do the same. 
She tried to push through the crowd as quickly as possible staving off any attempts from them. Looking behind her, she groaned at the empty spot where George had been. “George,” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Luz! Come on!”
A few seconds later, he appeared to her right, fresh red lipstick smeared across his lips that were quirked into a wide grin.
“Gosh, (y/n). Can’t a guy have some fun?” He joked, wiping his mouth with his hand.
Turning around, she rolled her eyes and made her way through an opening in the crowd only to be pulled to the side by her arm. “Hey!”
A familiar Philly accent filled her ears. “Come get in this picture, (y/n)!”
Babe pulled her through the crowd, and George followed, kissing as many girls as he could along the way. 
“There they are!” Chuck yelled, throwing his arm around a blonde.
George and Babe stood behind a few kids wearing orange hats and waving flags, all smiling from ear to ear. A wide smile grew on (y/n)’s face as she knelt beside the kids, placing her helmet on the little girl's head beside her. The helmet tipped down, covering the girl’s face except for her crooked, snaggle-toothed smile. (Y/n) quickly fixed it for her, and to her surprise, the little girl threw herself in the woman’s arms. Fighting off tears, she sniffled and hugged the girl back before pointing to the camera.
“Smile, everybody!” (Y/n) announced.
The picture was taken with a click, and (y/n)’s eyes wandered to the left of the cameraman.
She froze, her face falling. Time slowed as she watched the scene unfold before her. A local woman with long, flowing chestnut hair and a confident stride approached Lew. (Y/n) squinted to get a better look, her heart pounding. She watched in disbelief as the stranger reached up and placed a hand on Lew’s cheek, drawing him closer. The world around (y/n) seemed to blur as the stranger’s lips met Lew’s, and they kissed, and he didn't pull away.
Time seemed to stand still for (y/n). She couldn’t comprehend what she was witnessing. Her mind raced with questions. 
Why was Lew kissing her? 
Her hands clenched into fists, and tears welled up in her eyes. (Y/n) felt like a statue, unable to move or speak as the painful scene played out before her. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but not so deep down, she wished it were her instead. Her heart ached, and her stomach churned with anger, jealousy, and sadness.
George tapped her shoulder, his brows furrowed. “(Y/l/n)? You alright?”
Following her line of sight, he found what she was fixated on and softly sighed.
“He’s an idiot, (y/n/n). Come on,” he murmured, hoisting her up by her arm.
She stood and blinked away angry tears that filled her vision. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but not so deep down, she wished it were her.
A small voice below her broke her train of thought. “Dank,” the little girl nodded, holding out (y/n)’s helmet. She forced a smile and took it from the girl. 
George tugged her arm softly, pulling her in the opposite direction of Nix. She blindly followed in a haze, her mind muddied with hurtful thoughts. Townsfolk grabbed at her jacket as she and George made their way to the main town square where 2nd platoon was meeting. 
She was snapped out of her mind by the sound of screams. Her head moved on a swivel trying to find the sound’s source. Spotting a circle of citizens up ahead, she pushed past George quickly, squeezing her way through a few men to see inside the circle.
Before her, half-naked women were on their knees, crying as their hair was roughly shaved, leaving them with blood streaking down their necks and faces. Two Dutch resistance fighters bumped past (y/n) with another petrified woman in their arms. They threw her down and began to rip the clothes off her body. (Y/n)’s eyes narrowed as a burning sensation filled her chest. 
“Hey!” She cried, shoving one of them away from the woman. “That’s enough!”
The man recovered swiftly, but (y/n) didn’t give up. Unable to bend her to his will, he resorted to dirty tactics, shoving her forcefully and causing her to stumble and fall to the hard cobblestone street with a thud. 
“Stomme meid,” he spat.
Stupid girl. 
Her unclasped helmet skidded a few feet away as her head came in contact with the road. The impact knocked the wind out of her, leaving her momentarily gasping for breath. 
For a few seconds, everyone’s eyes were on the (y/n), then all hell let loose. Easy’s men were trying to get to her with enraged shouts but were unable to get through the crowd. With great effort, (y/n) pushed herself up off the ground, her face flushed but her spirit unbroken. She looked the man squarely in the eyes, refusing to show fear despite the pain in her chest. 
The man leered down at her with a smirk as he switched to heavily accentuated English. “Maybe we should teach you a less-”
(Y/n) lost all self-control as her arm reeled back ready to swing, but someone grabbed it tightly and tried to pull her away from the man. Seeing a flash of dark hair, she knew it was him, and her fury only grew. (Y/n) resisted, her heart pounding with adrenaline.
“No, Nix!” She protested, her voice filling with fiery determination. She wriggled free from his grasp for a moment, her eyes still locked onto the resistance fighters. “Let go of me! They can’t do this! We can’t let them do this!”
He stepped in front of (y/n), blocking her view of the confrontation, and looked deeply into her eyes. “(Y/n), I know, all right? I wish we could, but we can’t do anything about it.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, she tried to push past him only to hear a tone he had never used with her before.
“Stop! That’s an order, (y/l/n),” he gritted, his heart squeezing in his chest at the words.
(Y/n) stared at the Officer in disbelief. 
How dare he not help these poor women?
Tears filled her eyes for the second time that day as she took one more look at the poor woman on the ground. “I’m sorry,” she whispered before shoving her way back through the crowd.
Lew’s eyes followed her until she disappeared into the mob. Sighing, he ran a hand down his face.
What a difference a few days can bring.
One of the men behind him spoke. “She’s a lively one, no?”
“Shut it,” Nix snapped, scooping (y/n)’s discarded helmet off the street.
When he found Dick, Harry, and Buck, he handed the helmet to her platoon leader. “It’s (y/n)’s.”
Buck took it with a nod as the four officers watched the British Armored Division come rumbling down the street. 
It was going to be a long operation.
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auroralightsthesky · 2 years
Note
Are your requests still open? If so, I will shamelessly ask for anything with Nixon and the prompt 23 from your latest list 🙈
Hon, the door to the ask box is always open so don't hesitate. It's been a rough couple of days but I'll take any kind of asks that you guys have or want
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Nix shuddered at the thought of having to lie back, the burns on his back and arms sending painful shivers throughout his body and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. He wanted so badly to lie back and go to sleep.
But it hurt, SO. FUCKING. BAD.
He tried really hard to strip off his shirt but it was too painful, the sharp, needle-like sting ringing through his body and a grimace contorting his features. "Oh fucking hell!" he groaned.
"Lew, Lew!" you said, noticing the struggle he was about to endure. "Don't, I've got this."
He relaxed a little bit as you helped him off with his shirt, placing it in the dirty clothing basket beside the hospital bed. He winced as you cut away the bandages that had been wrapped around his torso, the threads sticking to the dried, crispy skin that had begun to heal.
"Sorry you have to see this," Nix said shuddering a little bit.
You pressed a soft kiss between his shoulderblades. "Nix it's ok," you assured him. "Tipper was probably the worst case I've had to handle."
You very gently cleaned the wounds as best you could, placing a reassuring kiss on the back of Nix's neck. He didn't realize how badly he craved your touch. All those months of moving through Europe with the men and the nurses following far behind.....he hadn't realized until now how badly he needed you or how badly you needed each other.
You felt his hand moving to yours on his shoulder, gripping it tightly as you worked, unable and unwilling to let go. "It's ok Nix," you whispered. "I've got you."
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
hey ! Loooove your x readers ! is there any chance I could request an alastor x fem reader who has nightmares ?? :o
Maybe she wakes up from nightmares repetitively, and one night just can’t stand laying awake staring at the ceiling of her room anymore , so she goes down to the lobby, and surprise, her crush alastor is sitting there reading in the semi-ish dark (with some jazz playing in the background on his staff ofc 🌚)
And maybe in his own twisted ways, comforts the reader (and maybe even reads her to sleep on the couch👀??)
Ugh, I gotta-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: None, I think???
Description: ☝️⬆️
You awoke with a desperate cry, your body lurching forward in one last desperate attempt to escape your nightmare
You're frantically feeling yourself and the bedding around you, digging your nails into the blankets
It takes you a few moments to realize that you're safe in your bed and not stuck in your nightmare
There's tears in your eyes, and your entire body shakes as you try to reassure yourself that it was just a nightmare
Your past can't get you anymore
Your heart doesn't stop hammering in your chest no matter how hard you try to choke down your emotions
After laying in bed for awhile and failing to get back to sleep, you decide to get up and walk around the hotel
You're surprised when you get to the lobby to see someone else is awake and occupying the space
Less so surprised to see that it's Alastor awake, reading and listening to the radio in the dim light
He's totally relaxed, obviously enjoying his alone time-you don't want to intrude, you should head back to your room-
You barely make it another step before his eyes snap towards you from over his book, his relaxed smile turning into a coy grin
"Well well~ Couldn't sleep, my dear~?"
Even when you're reeling from your nightmares, his natural charm still makes you feel flustered, and your heart soaks up the attention
"Y-yeah...you could say that..."
Alastor seems to sense your unease and moves to make room on the couch next to him, a small cup of tea appearing in front of you
He doesn't comment on the blush on your face as you sit down next to him, feeling a small comfort in his warmth even with the space between you two
You're lost in thought, your nightmares replaying in your mind and making you tense when you suddenly hear Alastor speak
"A nightmare, was it? I wonder what about..."
You can't help but snap your head towards him, shocked that he read you so easily, you hadn't realized it was so obvious
"How did you know I had a nightmare?"
He hums playfully and looks at you with a knowing smile, obviously proud of himself
"Just a guess, but thank you for confirming it for me."
You can't help but roll your eyes and let out a less than ladylike snort, momentarily feeling better
He doesn't push for details and you don't give him anything more than that, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence
At some point, his arm ends up behind you, claws gently scratching the back of your neck in a way that has your entire body tingling deliciously
You don't know when your eyes close or how you end up curled against him, but you're too tired to feel embarrassed about it
You start to feel yourself falling back asleep and right back into your nightmare, forcing yourself to stay awake
Of course, you would go right back to that terror...why should you get any proper sleep?
Alastor immediately senses that you're fully awake again, able to hear your heart beating rapidly in fear, see the way you fight back tears
If he could frown then he would, why should you be afraid of anything when he's here to protect you?
Just when you go to push off him, Alastor pulls your head back to his shoulder. Not taking his eyes off of his book to save you both some dignity
You reluctantly wrap your arms around him, you tell yourself it's just because it's more comfortable that way, not because it's nice to cuddle him
He's reading to you, the sound of his voice, along with the close proximity to him making your head spin
How are you supposed to hide your feelings for him when he does stuff like this?
Luckily, your face is buried in his shoulder, so the only giveaway for your blushing would be the heat radiating from your face
You're not really even paying attention to what he's reading, slowly relaxing against him as your eyes flutter shut and you breathe in his scent
As you fall asleep, you miss the way Alastor's smile softens when he looks down at you, closing his book suddenly and resting his chin on your head
He has something much better to do with his time
He stays with you the rest of the night, soothing you while you sleep whenever you happen to whimper, cry, shake, or even frown
His hands gently stroke your cheek as he squeezes you in reassurance, doing his best not to wake you
"Hush now, my dear... You're in good hands, I won't let anything harm you."
Apparently, it works because you relax and sigh in relief each time, no longer trembling and mumbling to yourself
Part of him feels pity for you, having suffered so much that you can't even find peace in your dreams
Another part of him enjoys that he gets to be there for you right now, hoping that this will become something regular
The thought surprises him, but he likes it
You're still asleep by the time the others start waking up, Alastor pretending to be reading his book again
He shakes his head when Vaggie and Charlie move to take you to your room, worried about you waking up next to Alastor or unintentionally irritating him
They're baffled when Alastor simply puts a finger to his lips and holds you a little closer to him, using his staff to push them back
"She's had a rough night, it would do us well to let her sleep a little longer."
Nobody says anything but they all share glances that show they're thinking the same thing
W T F happened between you two last night
You're embarrassed when you wake up later, nearly falling off the couch in your haste to get away from Alastor
"Ah, you're finally awake~!"
You can feel how hot your cheeks are as you apologize to him over and over again, you're so mortified you could die
You don't let him get a word in as you back away from him, slowly walking backwards to the stairs
You've got one foot on the stairs before you suddenly hear Alastor's voice from behind you
"Do come find me again if those pesky nightmares persist, won't you?"
You look back at him in surprise, his gaze serious despite the teasing tone, you're too embarrassed to do anything more than nod
He watches you scramble up to your room with an amused expression, not wanting to admit to himself that he enjoyed being of use to you
Alastor hopes you have another nightmare soon, if only just so he can play the hero for you again
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HERE MY LOVE
848 notes · View notes
comfortless · 4 months
Text
Deep Water
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nix! König x fem! reader
content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. no.. intentional harm done to reader but there are sporadic mentions of murder (drowning), König is kind of a creep here do you guys forgive me (say yes), implied sex; dubcon everything. König is wearing a fishing net rather than the usual hood because. it made sense to me sorry.
notes: yet again, i have found that i can not manage to write anything except for silly fantasy nonsense… bear with me this will pass (it will not). if you’re uncertain of what a nix is, i recommend skimming over this (or tl;dr— a shapeshifting water spirit).
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You’ve always been told to beware of the river, especially on nights like this. When the singing starts up you were to run, as far and as fast as your feet could carry you. It would be the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, as well as the last. Whatever beast lies in wait along the silt of the riverbed luring people in with its haunting song isn’t kind. The drowned bodies resurfacing bloated and paled are enough for the townsfolk to assume that assuredly, a monster lies in wait someplace within the glassy water.
For all of the fear, town myths were just that— myths.
As always, there’s no singing when you seat yourself on smooth, mossy stones by the river’s bank. The moon hangs low, casting its brilliant reflection on calm, dark water. The air is alive with the buzzing of cicadas clinging to the trees at your back and night birds calling out to the wind. Nothing is amiss; it’s only peaceful, and that’s why despite the warnings, you often find yourself here when the temperature is favorable.
There are nights when the river isn’t calm, and currents are the most reliable reasoning for the deaths from past summers. The water is full of large rocks with sharp corners, teeming with plants that could so easily snare an ankle, and when the water is frothing and cruel it’s no surprise that one could be thrashed to unconsciousness if they weren’t careful.
You didn’t come here to take your chances on swimming, anyhow.
If anything, it’s a mere reprieve from the bustle of the town. No one wanders here any more since the myths gained traction, passed from mouth to listening ears time and time again, leaving this place entirely untouched. Occasionally the obnoxious teenager would cross your path on the walk here, declaring loudly to their friends about how they supposedly saw some slimy beast, eyes like moonbeams and scales like razors lying on the bank.
During your little adventures here, you often carry a snack with you, but not for yourself. Tonight, it’s just a small package of vanilla flavored cookies. In truth, they were awful— dry and near flavorless, but you suspect your friend here wouldn’t mind too terribly much, and if it got them out of your pantry without wasting it was a win for the both of you.
When the large dorsal fin crests over the water mere meters from the bank, you gratuitously crush the treats in a closed fist and toss the crumbs into the water. Time and time again, you’ve fed the large animal, watching as it thrashes about just below the surface before disappearing back into its depths. You’ve never gotten a good look at it, either, but you imagine it must stretch out past your height or further; some sort of gar or sturgeon.
Just as many times before, it glides further in, fin entirely out of sight now. The only evidence of it ever appearing at all were the small waves rippling in its wake. All is quieted once more as you embrace the placid bliss, readying your small flashlight and losing yourself into the book perched in your lap.
The next night, you’re greeted by a large snake basking over the rock you typically sat upon. It lies still, coiled into itself as it regards you, forked tongue flicking out for several moments before it simply slithers off, hiding itself away beneath the moss and stone.
“Best to leave you alone, huh?,” you ask to it’s retreating tail, feeling a bit silly for speaking to the reptile at all. It doesn’t respond, of course, nor does it bother to come out of hiding either.
You opt to seat yourself on the hill overlooking the water instead.
You find that after a day occupied by tedious tasks, there truly was no greater place to abandon your woes than here. Everything was peaceful; wild yet simplistic. Even with all of the death that seemed to haunt this place, you never feared the thought of ghosts. You’ve even entertained your imagination a time or two, that if you ever did meet one, you would only ask it not to disturb the wildlife you have grown so fond.
There’s a freedom and a mystery to places like this, places without the foot traffic of other people. It brings with it a sense of whimsy, especially when you glance towards the water and see the surface reflecting every twinkling star above.
The fish doesn’t appear, even as you listen to the water in wait, your head tilted as you lie back on soft grass to watch for ripples, for the swell of a large fin moving beneath. Nothing. You read your book as the night progresses, nearly completing it entirely before you make your way back home.
Weeks pass by like this— work, river, home and repeat. Occasionally it’s the same large snake that greets you when you wander there, more often it’s the large fish circling about waiting for crumbs of whatever treat you choose to bring. The bank and the small hill overlooking it have become a separate home to you, one where you can be away with the fairies, talking to your animal friends that never seem to stick around for long.
When the weather grows warmer, you even dare to take a swim.
You’re stood on the slick stones of the bank, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. It’s not proper swimming attire, but you reason that you’re not at the beach, not a soul is around, and it doesn’t really matter at all that you might look a bit silly. The prospect of swimming along that behemoth below is a tad terrifying, but you wouldn’t dare to wander too far in. Maybe the fish would even be intelligent enough to not attempt to eat you after you’ve been so kind to it.
It’s hot, and with a sticky layer of sweat glossing your skin, your worries seem minuscule in light of an easy way of cooling off. You toe at the calm water for a moment, testing its temperature before willing yourself to take a step forward, then another before you seat yourself in the vibrant expanse of darkened blue. Here, you realize, is the best place to stargaze, too; they shimmer all around you, within reach as you tap at the surface of water, watching it undulate beneath the pressure of your fingertips.
You could reach the moon, too, if you swam further out. A few meters from the bank and you would be directly beneath its reflection, bathed in that ethereal glow.
You watch for your friend for a time, trying to prioritize your wariness over your whimsy. When the fish doesn’t tread by you, the water remaining calm, you rise to your feet and take slow, metered steps as the water parts and flows against your shins.
Though the river is disturbed no matter how gently you stride forward, nothing slides out from its depths in pursuit of you. Nothing happens at all when you reach out to splay your hand out against the reflection, the water now gently lapping against your stomach rather than your legs.
You hadn’t expected any sort of shift in your reality, that would be ridiculous, but perhaps some sort of clarity; a further calm for a weary mind. It doesn’t come, and with a disheartened splash you wade your way back towards the shore.
This has been your sanctuary for some time. Excusing the snake, there’s not been any sort of threat to you, not here. A safe water world all your own. Though, that peace is shattered the moment that you make it to the bank and hear the water shift some small distance behind you. Turning your head, you’re met with the sight of a man, the bulky muscular silhouette towering in the patch of moonlight you had just stood in. Bright blue eyes catch the light, reflecting like an animal’s as you scramble back to where you’ve left your shorts.
He stands there, silent and unmoving like an obelisk even as you hastily dress yourself with a thundering heart and breaths that sound more or less like gasps, senses heightened by your panic as you turn tail to run.
No one had been there. You were sure of it when you sunk into the water. There was no sound when this person had swam over to take your place. He was just there, as if he had been the entire time and you somehow failed to notice.
You make your way into the woods framing this place, hurried steps and untied shoelaces. You don’t even bother with your flashlight.
Finding your way back home with aches in every muscle, the desperate rampage you had taken to get away finally coming to a close when the door slams shut behind you, you quickly shower and mull over what’s just happened. A ghost, perhaps. It had to of been. Any other person would have made noise in their approach, especially being that big. The mind could play its tricks; what you had seen was likely not even there at all— a terrifying figment of your imagination. That sets you at ease, somewhat, but not enough.
You don’t sleep well that night, tucked beneath your blanket and staring at the filtered moonlight through your curtains. Work isn’t on your mind at all come morning until your phone chimes with a notification from your manager, questioning your tardiness. A languid crawl out of bed follows, another shower, an unsatisfying breakfast, all before you opt to send a text back to let him know you won’t be in today.
It could be excused, you’re reliable and decent enough at the job; not one to boast, but far more eager to please than the rest of your coworkers. You would be entirely useless if you went in on no sleep, you reason.
You don’t want to go back there, not under the veil of night, but you find yourself horribly curious the longer that you bide your time indoors. You had to know if the thing that you saw was really there, had to calm your nerves. What if he had always been watching each time, and you simply hadn’t noticed? The forest bordering the river is terribly dark at night, anyone could crouch behind the shield of a tree and remain undetected until they willed the courage to drag you in, cup a palm over your mouth to silence your cries.
Maybe it was the monster the people in town rumored about.
The thought of some strange, silent thing living beneath the water waiting for an opportune moment to take you by the neck and drag you down to the silty floor to watch you drown horrified you. Yet, that’s the one conclusion that sticks. Those eyes… so lurid and haunting, no human being had eyes like that.
You inhale sharply, steeling your nerves as reach for a pocket knife for defense, toss it into the bag slung over your shoulder, and storm out the door.
The trek there is nothing short of dull.
No matter where you look, what shadows rise up beneath the dim glow of a falling sun, there’s nothing out in the woods. The river is equally tame. The water babbles over rock, cicadas buzz off in the distance, and not a thing seems amiss. Your search for footprints that don’t belong to the soles of your shoes turns up empty. The only thing that suggests just maybe it wasn’t all in your head is the book you had neglected to retrieve in your fear the night before.
The cover, every page within, now warped as though it had been pulled into the water and spit out to dry. You pick it up, peeling through damp pages, running your fingertips over the smeared ink. It’s possible that a particularly aggressive splash could have sullied it, but something tells you that that isn’t the case. Either way, it’s unreadable now. You sulk a bit as you slip the ruined thing into your bag and step towards the smooth stones to watch the water instead.
Night creeps in slowly with you there, and you’re on high alert for a time before you begin to relax as usual. Even giggle to yourself at how silly it was you believed you saw a ghost at all as you entertain yourself by skipping small stones across the water.
No large snake, no massive fish, no titan of a man appears before you, only a calming crescent moon and a few wandering wood ducks, gliding down from the bank to splash about. A thought comes to mind as the calm emboldens you: what would happen if you got in just one more time?
There’s nothing to suggest that you’re playing with fire as you leave your shoes neatly in the dry sand. If the ducks could swim unbothered by fish or men, then surely you could, too. You watch the little creatures a distance away as they dip their heads beneath the surface and chitter away amongst themselves while you take your first step in.
You don’t dare to go as far this time, stopping when the water brushes over your knees. You wait there while time seems to slow to a crawl, expecting the absolute worst, glancing further down the river, dipping your hand below the glassy surface until your fingertips brush the sand beneath.
It’s horribly hot and you’re still exhausted from the sleepless night before. The water feels nice, and you feel as though you have some sort of claim to it as you’ve been here more often than anyone else would dare to. Ghosts and monsters be damned, you seat yourself and let the water lap over your shoulders, tilting your head back to watch the stars.
When the singing begins it takes a moment to register just what it is that you’re hearing. It’s not beautiful, not like the myths have said. It’s hissed, a low whisper, a mockery of what a human song would sound like. The voice is rasped, lilted yet cold. The realization that it sings words from your book of poetry is what terrifies you the most, the warped pages all making sense now.
Your eyes dart to either side of you, forward, before realizing the voice is coming from behind you. Cold spreads through your veins as you try to force yourself to stand, but in your fear you find yourself petrified, rooted in water that would surely become your grave.
You can’t bring yourself to turn around, to inevitably find your eyes locked onto the shadowy frame of a man far too large, his eyes glistening and pale like the moon hanging above.
The voice pauses when it finds you unmoving, and you can hear the rustle of the creature shifting its weight where it’s stood on the rocks lining the bank. You’ve no clue how deep the river gets, where the opposite side leads, but your only chance of escape seems to be swimming through in the hopes that this thing doesn’t choose to chase after you. A part of you knows that he would, that that is exactly what he expects you to do, goading you to flee deeper with his eerie song so that he can drown you just as he did the others.
You do the opposite as you squeeze your eyes shut and crawl back towards the bank, making sure to keep some distance despite your willful blindness. You wouldn’t look at it, wouldn’t talk to it, you would just go home and never come back.
“Best to leave you alone, hm?”
You still as your fingers brush against wet moss, the voice no longer a whisper but loud, loud as it echoes your words from days past just above you. Beating back your own curiosity proves futile, because you look up at the damned thing then, expecting to see an impossible terror before you, sharp fangs wet with blood and appendages too spindly reaching out for you. Instead, you see only a man.
He’s crouched, only a meter or so away, and you immediately recognize his broad figure. The same as the night before. From this distance you can make out the finer details, the length of net covering his face and neck, the webbing between each finger. Still a scary sight, but only in the way it’s unfamiliar and imposing rather than instilling any sort of primordial fear.
“Excuse me?” You pull yourself fully out of the water, rising to your feet and taking a tentative step back. You’re prepared to run, a coil pulled too tight on the verge of snapping.
The man, creature, whatever he may be just tilts his head, lets the silence hang in the air for a moment before he has the audacity to laugh whether to himself or at the strange, bewildered expression on your face.
His stare is assessing as he sucks in a breath, follows suit in rising to his full height. From the size of him alone, you know you’re not getting away. A mere stride for him would be two or more for you, a deliberate tug of your wrist from him could snap it in an instant.
Yet, he doesn’t reach for you, only gestures toward your bag lying on the ground with a subtle flick of a finger. You give him a quizzical glance in turn, not bothering to retrieve it. You could come back during the day with a friend, gather it and never return. Only, your knife sits somewhere inside, the only protection that you’ve got. The realization spurs you to bend over and toss the strap over your shoulder.
“I’ll… I’ll be going now.”
The stare remains fixed upon you as you take another step back, blinking slowly every now and then as you both remain in some strange stasis.
It takes you a moment to put the pieces together. The reciting of words from the book, the mimicking of the words spoken to the snake, the hint at your bag… he’s expecting something and it’s not to steal away your life, only to be fed and have your company. It’s not charming, it’s awfully strange and eerie, but you find yourself giggling at the prospect of taming some murderous, shapeshifting monster with subpar treats and poetry.
You pull open the bag, searching for anything you may have brought along that he could eat, eventually prying out a small package and offering it out to him.
“Is this what you want?,” you ask, voice hushed and trembling.
He shakes his head, rustling the net cloaking him in the process. So, he understands, he’s just been willfully ignoring every other thing you’ve said prior. You store the package away with a perturbed expression crossing over your face.
“Then what?”
Any relief you had felt seems to dwindle when the giant takes a half-step closer. His skin is cool and wet as the river as he brushes his hand over your forearm, curling a set of fingers around it. The touch is gentle, but there’s a promise of violence lurking somewhere in the depths of his eyes.
“Come with me,” he urges in that harsh whisper from before, delicately squeezing as he pulls you towards him, leading you back to the river with a tight grip and a step back over the stones. Though his touch is passive, there’s a frightening strength lurking someplace beneath his flesh, tacked to bone, and as your gaze trails lower to rest to rest at your feet, the space between you two, the evidence of a life prone to violence and strength is laid bare before you.
You don’t fight the hold as he leads you to water so deep it caresses the base of your neck, right below the milky glow of a waning moon. Deeper still, as you’re pulled below, pressed down to the very bottom with his body lain over you. You can only hold your breath so long before an involuntary gasp leaves you, and a wave is funneled straight into your lungs.
Panic is fleeting, but the adrenaline stays ever-present. You claw, push, kick, to no avail. Pinned down by a hand weighing like an anchor you feel your vision flooding and hazy as his head knocks against your jaw, mouth sealing tightly over yours. It’s not a gentle kiss, the net fashioned into a hood digs into your skin, teeth scrape over your lip until you feel the sting of blood drawn.
All at once, your vision darkens and it’s over.
You find yourself lying back on the shore as the morning sun warms your face, causes your dampened shirt to cling to your skin. Disoriented, but alive, brushing your thumb over your lower lip as you sit up to stare at the subtle waves lapping over moss and rock.
Just a dream, you tell yourself, knowing full well you hadn’t fallen asleep.
Just a dream, even though you avoid the river entirely now. Your route home from work changes too, avoiding even a glimpse of the path that leads down to that place. You don’t even replace the book, you toss what remains of it after fishing through your bag, murmuring something about it surely being cursed and entertain yourself with film at night instead.
Sleep remains tentative, you wake with every sound, and your dreaming is filled with visions of a figure pushing you down into deep water, his weight bearing down upon you so heavily that you can not move until you wake with a start, eyes searching your bedroom.
Several weeks, and the fear does eventually fade.
The morning that the rain begins to fall, you realize you haven’t even thought about the river in days. There’s no monster prowling your nightmares anymore. You lived through what may or may not have occurred, and that was the end of it, simple as it may have been.
A late shift at work has you wandering out into the rain, umbrella in hand. You’re grateful that you live close, that you’re not entirely soaked to the bone when you step inside of the mundane building. Your coworkers notice your change in demeanor immediately, chirping about how glad they are that you’re finally feeling better, looking more yourself as the hours pass you by. It brings a smile to your face, a real one that you haven’t had in place since that last night.
Even in the summer, there’s a chill to the air in the late afternoon as you hurry home from work and make your way inside, stripping out of your wet clothes and setting your umbrella aside. It’s darker outside than it should be, even more so indoors. Reaching for the switch to turn on the lights proves useless— the power’s out.
You light your way with your phone, ignoring the way your pulse quickens and your heart flutters with the fear that something just doesn’t feel right. Your skin prickles with the thought of some unseen pair of eyes watching you, blue and cold. You only relax when you slam your bedroom door shut, locking it and pressing your forehead to the wood as you sigh. The puff of breath that escapes your lips is not the only in the room, you find out when the light of your phone illuminated your bed. Crouched beside it, a towering figure with a face veiled by fishing net. Words don’t come when you open your mouth to speak, and your heart stutters in your chest as you stand shaking but otherwise petrified.
“You didn’t come back.”
Of course you hadn’t.
Most people wouldn’t have.
“No. I’ve been… busy,” you choke out the excuse, hoping to pacify whatever emotion you imagine lurked beneath his tone, undetectable through the hiss of his voice. “I’ll visit soon, promise,” you lie, back pressed against the door as your fingers curl over the knob.
Your fear seems almost unwarranted. He doesn’t move toward you, only stands to wander back to the window where he must have broken in.
“Tonight?,” he asks in a voice so soft, the voice he must use as a lure because tugs at your heartstrings immediately, makes you want to follow despite the threat this thing poses merely by existing, despite everything.
“It’s cold— I’ll get sick,” you murmur. “How did you even find me..?”
“I will keep you warm.” The question goes unanswered.
You find yourself stifled again as he lumbers towards you, brushing cold fingers across the side of your face. It’s not a mockery of a kiss you receive next but a firm bite where your neck meets shoulder, not yet hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make you shiver, to grip at the wall of muscle that makes up his chest.
There’s a desperation to his movements as he herds you towards the window, pushes you toward the path leading back to the river. You’re soaked to the bone in seconds, hardly able to keep your eyes open past the weight of dampened eyelashes. The rain is so heavy it feels as though every step is like the first you took into cursed water, your feet sinking into the mud along the path with each tentative stride. The realization that you’re there doesn’t even hit you until you’re chest-deep in the chill, violent waves pushing against you, each carrying the threat of toppling you over entirely.
The palm splayed out against your bare back keeps you upright, leading you to a smooth rock jutting out in the midst of what seems a sea of frothing white and blue. The sea above is just as dark, angry clouds roaring as you’re pressed down onto your back, shivering terribly.
He keeps his promise though, a tight grip on each thigh as he pries your legs apart, sinks in between them and blankets you from the rain. Even with the cold pressed to your back, you feel the warmth of a summer sun above you, scorching from inside, just as blazing as the look in his wild eyes. The last of any resolve slips when you’re pulled beneath the violent waves, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses coaxing oxygen into your lungs. Each roll and pull no less tumultuous than the waves overhead. A placid end when the rain comes to an impromptu halt, just as he stills over you. Hands rush to cup your face with one final, desperate and biting kiss.
When the morning sun pulls you from sleep, cool moss against your back and the weight of his head resting over your middle, the shallow water lapping lazily at your figure, you find that you no longer fear drowning.
567 notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 1 year
Text
Harmonious
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You may think you're a pawn in Bucky's life, but you are his queen. Word Count: Over 1.7k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, implied vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Nix gifted me with this beautiful edit and I decided to make it a prequel to Husband and Wife. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You weren't sure how you found yourself in Bucky's study, which would also be yours in time. The day passed by in a blur as you tried to remember when exactly you went into the warm, spacious room and shut the door. You weren’t sure why you chose that spot in particular to hide. As if you could escape from your fiance long enough to get peace.
Maybe some sick part of you wanted him to seek you out, which he did. Even if you tried to run, he’d hunt you down. He'd always find you. He’d win.
"Your move, Printsessa."
Bucky's voice beckoned you back to present as you realized he started the game. You stared at the chessboard, like it would provide answers to the questions about the future you didn't dare ask, before you lifted your gaze to the man you would soon marry. He chose to slick his hair back tonight, which drew your attention to his sharp blue eyes and well-groomed beard. The tuxedo, tailored to perfection, emphasized how large and imposing the member of the Bratva is.
Knowing personally how large Bucky is everywhere had your thighs rubbing together before you could stop yourself. Your traitorous body outweighed your heavy heart. One day they would be in harmony.
What’s so wrong with loving him? Why shouldn't I let him consume me?
You tore your gaze away to look at the chessboard again. He opened with the King's Gambit. Fitting since he lived like royalty. A ruler of everything he touched.
Including you.
So would you allow yourself to be his queen? To be by his side through everything? The ring on your finger may say you'd be his, but he wouldn't own you. Not yet.
In time.
Bucky would see to it.
"Do you remember what happened the last time I beat you at chess?" he asked as you slowly moved a piece.
"You put this ring on my finger," you told him, holding up your left hand.
And he spent the night ruining you with his mouth and cock.
"You almost beat me. It isn't often someone keeps me on my toes," he said, smirking when you wrinkled your nose. "It was a beautiful night. I won’t forget it."
You didn't need the reminder, but you refused to tell him that. How could you deny the beauty of it when he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you? Could you argue when he whispered how much he needed you by his side? The man had the world in the palm of his hand, but he needed you.
Why?
You hadn't done anything special to get his attention, but you had it all without asking. Even when you tried to close yourself off to him, he wiggled his way in. How did he do that?
"Am I just a game to you?" you asked suddenly as he made his next move.
"We're playing a game, but you are not a game to me."
"Why do I feel like a pawn then?"
Bucky appeared unphased, but you knew better. This was a man who would destroy anyone who looked at you the wrong way if you asked. To suggest that he was using you for anything was an insult.
"You're not a pawn in anything," he said fiercely, keeping his eyes on you as he brought his drink to his mouth and downed it in one gulp. "You're my queen, Solnyshko."
You ignored the flutter in your heart when he set the glass down and reached across the table with his metal hand to touch yours.
"And who said you're my king?" you whispered.
"You did when you said 'yes'," he told you, pulling his hand away so you could take your turn.
"I haven't said 'yes' yet," you retorted, knocking one of his pieces away with more force than necessary.
He snorted as he watched the pawn hit the carpet. "You're mine, Printsessa. Or did you forget?"
Your pussy clenched in interest at the thought of him reminding you, but your mind refused to let you give in.
At least, not right away.
"Like you'd ever let me forget," you said, pointing a finger at him. "It's your ring on my finger and your last name I'm taking. What are you taking of mine, besides my body?"
Bucky's eyes darkened a shade as he sat back in his leather chair. Goading him into a fight wouldn't do you any good, but he liked that you pushed. He craved both a worthy opponent and a partner in his life. You were the one he chose to let in.
But the man had many doors to open and you only had so many keys in your grasp.
"It's your heart I want," he said more to himself than you, but you caught the longing in his voice as he looked away.
You paused for a moment, his admission nearly bringing tears to your eyes. "I wouldn't have agreed to marry you if you didn't have it."
Despite the fact that he could bend the world to his will, he would never force you to be with him. There was still so much you didn't know about him though, like his past. You knew just enough to acknowledge that his family wouldn't be there. Not with his parents in the family cemetery.
Did he not trust you with his secrets or did not he not trust himself?
He didn't smile when he looked back at you, but his shoulders sagged in relief. "And I'm yours as much as you're mine."
Fighting him was a losing game. He defeated you the moment he decided he wanted you. What was it you were arguing about to begin with?
Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, yes, but he would never pose a threat to you.
You would always be in his care.
"Beat me and we can move the wedding up a week," you proposed as you resumed the game.
Bucky considered it with a grunt. The sound brought a smile to your face. No one else would dare tease him about his reactions to anything.
"Two weeks,” he suggested, licking his lips. “And we leave right for the honeymoon after the ceremony so I can fulfill my duty to you as your husband."
"We're having a reception," you stated, wrinkling your nose again to hide your growing arousal. "But we can move it up two weeks if you win."
"When I win," he corrected you with the utmost confidence.
"Just play," you grumbled as he chuckled.
Neither of you spoke for almost an hour as you concentrated on the game, but you stole glances at each other between moves. Why did he have to look so handsome in his tuxedo? Did he wear it just to have you lust after him? A taste of what your wedding day would bring?
He probably had the bowtie in his pocket to use around your wrists later.
"Checkmate."
You sighed, but nodded when he grinned triumphantly. He beat you fair and square. You should have seen that coming.
"Good game," you said, putting your hand out for his in a mock handshake. "You get to marry me two weeks sooner."
"It's a good thing I already prepared for that," he smirked as you raised an eyebrow, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it instead of shaking it. "Oh, I moved the date up this morning."
"You what?"
"I moved the wedding up," he said as you yanked your hand back. "Are you that surprised? I want you to be my wife sooner rather than later."
"Jackson. Buchanan. Barnes."
The cocky look on his face had you seeing red, but part of you also felt flattered that he couldn't wait to make you his wife.
I can't let him know how gone I am for him, fiance or not.
"Get on the table and I'll say I'm sorry."
It was your turn to smirk. "No."
The dangerous glint in his eyes as they raked over your body made your core throb.
"I can either apologize with my tongue or with my cock," he offered in a low voice. Possessiveness knew no bounds when it came to him. "Either way, you will get on that table and spread your legs so I can worship you."
Suppressing a shudder, you reached under your dress and slowly removed your wet panties. You surprised yourself by making it through the entire game. "Make me," you said, tossing the fabric into his lap.
If he wanted you so badly, he could work a little for it.
His hand shot out, the chess pieces scattering across the floor along with the board. You didn't flinch. Having the attention of one of the most powerful men in the world would make a lesser person crumble. But you weren't easy to break.
You are his equal.
"Is this a taste of what our honeymoon will be like?" you asked as he got to his feet.
"Not just our honeymoon. he rest of our lives," he said, moving around the table to tower over you. "There is no me without you, Solnyshko."
You didn't stop him as he gripped your arms and pulled you to your feet. You allowed him to devour your mouth with his before he put you on the table, careful not to hurt you. Those very hands of his destroyed his enemies, but he only brought you pleasure. He would give you a home. A future.
All you had to do was let him in.
"Show me why I'm making the right choice by marrying you," you challenged him as he shoved your dress up around your hips.
Bucky sank to his knees, digging his fingers into your flesh as he spread your legs. The man who bowed to no one else dropped down to service you. That was the kind of hold you had over him.
In your heart where you tried not to acknowledge it, he had the same hold over you.
"If the mess you make on my beard won't be enough to show you, I'll make sure to do it with my cock."
He laced his fingers with yours, anchoring you to him as he got started. Your king would take his queen tonight and many nights after. He would prove that you brought harmony to each other. And you wouldn't do a damn thing from this day forward to stop him.
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I love them. Can't wait to share more of their journey. Love and thanks! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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sserpente · 8 months
Text
Chasing Nix
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Synopsis: You are a mermaid from the Upside Down, stranded in Lover’s Lake after the earthquake hit Hawkins. Dustin finds you and promises to keep you safe. He takes you to the community pool to hide and has Eddie Munson look after you while he searches for a more permanent place for you to stay. You like the gentle metalhead. Quickly overcome with the urge to be with him and protect him rather than feed on him, you panic when a boy named Jason finds him at the pool and starts to hurt him. So you jump out of the water and attack. In the aftermath, you notice that something is different, that your tail… has turned into a pair of legs…
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Words: 6206 Warnings: violence, blood, feeding, mermaid!Reader
The water tasted different here. Less… sulphuric and somehow… somehow sweeter too. You were yet to decide whether you liked it. You didn’t know how many days had passed since the earthquake. Since your world and their world bled into each other.
You’d been too slow, too weak to resist the pull of gravity sucking you into a dimension that was not yours. There were trees all around you. Life of all kinds. The grass, the leaves, the bushes, animals with fur… it was all alive. And as long as you were not certain any of those living things posed any threat to your survival… you would remain hidden in these waters.
You were hungry. And you were getting hungrier every day. Every now and then, humans would come to the lake. They’d swim in it for fun, to cool down… and it took all of your willpower not to drag one of them underwater to feast until you were sated, for once you did, your location would be known to them. Humans were social creatures. And if you killed one… others would come to investigate.
The air tasted different too. It was crisp, fresh… there were no particles swirling around, none that you could see. You took a deep breath as you heaved yourself onto a rock. You only did so once it was dark—once the last humans had disappeared from sight.
“Holy shit!” Whoever he was, he shone the light coming from the metal cylinder directly into your face. You squinted your eyes and dove back into the water panicking.
“No, no, no, wait! Are you… can you understand me?” the boy asked. You blinked, hesitating. Then, you nodded. Yes. You understood him.
“What… what are you?”
You tilted your head. The words did not quite want to leave your lips. It was almost like your vocal cords had not yet gotten used to the air in this dimension. Furthermore, you were terrified. Any wrong move could result in your immediate demise, and just because this boy looked innocent, there was no way of knowing if he was a predator.
Finally, he lowered the light and brought his free hand to his chest. “I’m Dustin… don’t worry, you’re safe. Are you… are you from the Upside Down?”
You frowned in response.
“Like… another… the other dimension? Did you end up here after the earthquake?”
You nodded quickly.
“Okay… okay… well, you can’t stay here. There’s other humans who might try to hurt you if they find you. Are you… friendly?”
Friendly? You were selective with your prey, you were very well familiar with the concept of morals, good and bad deeds. You only killed to survive. So you nodded again.
“Alright… I’m gonna believe you.” Dustin didn’t take his eyes off of you when he pulled a metal box from his back pocket and started speaking into it.
“Steve? Steve, do you copy?”
You gasped when a voice, likely belonging to another human, came out of the box. “Yeah? Yeah, what is it?”
“You need to come to Lover’s Lake right now. Do you still have that broken freezer in your trunk? The one Robin asked you to throw away for her?”
“Yeah… why?”
“Bring it. We’re gonna have to fill it up with water.”
“What the hell are you on about, Henderson?”
“Just do it!” Dustin yelled. “Over and out!” Before the other human—Steve—could respond, he tucked the box away again.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get you somewhere safe. I have an idea!”
Needless to say, you weren’t particularly fond of the idea of swimming into a white container filled with water. Steve was taller than Dustin and you assumed that meant he was older too. As soon as you realised that he was helping you though, you warmed up to him.
He arrived in a huge metal box on wheels only a short while later and eventually, they attached the white container to a rope they ended up dragging onto a smaller set of wheels attached to the metal box… once Dustin has persuaded you to swim into it. A car, you had heard Steve say. That’s what the big box on wheels was called.
They drove you away from the safety of the lake soon after, leaving you with a sickening feeling in your stomach. Had it been a good idea to trust this human boy? He could have been lying, after all. But… no. You were good at reading people, good at detecting their intentions. Dustin was pure, not depraved, not like Henry Creel.
When the car stopped, you froze. The water you were floating in stilled then, and Steve opened the metal bit that had prevented the container from sliding off onto the road. Together, they pulled you toward a rectangle-shaped body of water. It was a little mucky and dark and it smelled horribly chemical. Your nose was not used to the chlorine. You gagged when they tipped the container over and you tasted the artificial water. There was a rather large broken stone pillar that had fallen into the water, separating the indoor pool right in the middle. And it was dark. Despite the horrible taste of the water, you felt safer here not being surrounded by living things—even if you preferred the lake over this standing collection of chemicals.
“Dustin? Why are we here?” The boy who came barging in only a short while after had dark skin. His eyes widened when he spotted you. Right behind him followed another boy, a really skinny one with light skin and dark hair. You retreated. So many humans… Dustin had brought you to safety. He was kind, a compassionate human. What if those other humans hurt him? Baring your fangs for a moment, you splashed water as you swam away from the edge. Dustin must have called for them inside the car on your way here. Why?
“Holy… shit. Dustin… what is that?”
“That’s, uh… Nix!”
“Nix?” The other two boys said in unison.
“Yeah… you know like Nixies. The mythical creatures? She’s basically a mermaid so… Nix.”
“Let me guess… she’s from the Upside Down.”
“Obviously!” Steve exclaimed, arms akimbo.
Dustin turned to you, noticing your discomfort. “Hey, it’s okay! These are my friends! That’s Lucas,” he pointed at the dark-skinned boy, “and this is Mike.” He pointed at the other boy. “They’re gonna help me keep you safe, okay?”
You hesitated but eventually… you returned to the edge of the pool. Lucas and Mike were equally weary of you.
“What were you thinking? The community pool? They’re gonna start renovations here soon!” Mike said.
Dustin put up his hands. “Yes but I know that they’re not gonna be draining the pool until next week, until then, we’ll figure something out and she can hide here.”
“I guess it’s better than the police finding her,” Steve added. The police? What was a police? And would they hurt you?
“Can she speak?” Lucas asked.
“She hasn’t said a word to us yet but she nods and shakes her head. She understands us.”
“So she’s mute.”
“Kind of like when we first met El, remember?” Mike asked. The boy with the dark skin gave him a glare.
“She’s from the Upside Down. If anything, this is gonna be another Dart situation. What does she… eat?”
“I’m about to find out. I came prepared in case I came across a Demogorgon.” Dustin knelt down and opened his backpack, revealing raw chicken breast in a plastic bag. He poured the contents out before you and then took a step back.
You blinked. It was clear to you he meant to feed you but what was that? You sniffed and recoiled. It was dead. Raw flesh from a dead animal.
“Huh… I thought that would work. If she doesn’t eat meat, that’s a good sign, right?”
“Not… necessarily,” Lucas responded.
You wanted to speak. Let them know what you fed on, how you fed. But even when you opened your mouth, not a single sound escaped your lips. It was like your mind was preventing you from sharing your voice with this dimension.
Dustin sighed. “How’s Eddie?”
“Holding up. I mean, Hopper is working on it but the whole town still thinks he worships the devil.”
“Where is he right now?”
“In my basement,” Mike said. “Holly made him host a tea party with her dolls.”
Lucas snorted—laughing. He was laughing. “I’d give a lot to see that.”
Once again, Dustin pulled out the metal box and started speaking into it.
“Eddie? Do you copy?”
“Henderson?” Your lips parted. You liked that voice.
“Eddie, I need you to come to the community pool.”
“Right now?”
“Right now. It’s urgent. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”
“Alright… copy that. I’m on my way.”
“Is that a good idea?” Lucas asked. “I mean… Jason was released from the hospital today. What’s your plan?”
“Eddie’s gonna stay and hide here, with Nix, looking after her.” You frowned. You didn’t know Eddie. You didn’t want Dustin to leave.
“I don’t think she’s very fond of that plan.” Lucas pointed at you with his chin. “She looks jealous. So what are we gonna do?”
“First of all, we need to tell Hopper and Nancy and then we’re going to the southern edge of town.”
“The southern edge? What for?”
Dustin packed the metal speaking box away. “You remember that old water tank they stopped using a few years ago?”
“Yeah… but how the hell would we get her up there?”
“I don’t know, that’s what we need to find out.”
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There was no such thing as pretty in your world. You were covered in grime and slime, there were webs between your fingers to help you swim and your eyes resembled what humans would likely refer to as reptiles in this world and your tail with the spiked smaller fins was of such a dark green it was almost black.
And yet… you wished the older boy who came walking into the roofed building would take as much interest in you as you did in him. You liked his hair. It was long and curly, framing his face perfectly, and on his fingers, he wore pieces of silver. You realised quickly he must have done so for aesthetic purposes, much like the holes in his black trousers.
Was that Eddie? Was that the human boy they wanted to look after you? Dustin seemed to rely on him and you were quite certain you didn’t like that. Dependence was dangerous. It left you vulnerable. Especially a kind soul like Dustin.
You hid when he came closer, diving under the fallen pillar and emerging again on the other side.
“She’s, uh… a mermaid, basically,” you heard Dustin say.
“Jesus H. Christ, she is what now?”
“Yeah… I called her Nix. Nix?” Nix.There it was again.Your lips parted. Oh… he had given you a name. He was calling you. “It’s okay!” you heard Dustin shout. “Eddie is nice! He’s my friend! He’s gonna look after you while we’re gone, trying to find a more permanent place for you to stay, alright?”
“Does she look… human at all?” Eddie asked.
“See for yourself.” You emerged by the edge of the pool, looking at Eddie curiously. He was even prettier up close. Oh. You liked him. He had a good heart, a kind soul, much like Dustin. He was… soft. Your eyes met and somehow… you found yourself being unable to look away.
“Can you… understand me?” Eddie asked.
You nodded. You were almost disappointed when Dustin turned his attention back to him to tell him about their plan in detail.
“So you want me to stay here with her…” Eddie concluded.
“Exactly.”                                                                                
“Alright… yeah. I can do that.” You could have sworn you heard him mutter “A fucking mermaid” under his breath but you weren’t sure.
You watched him pull up what must have been a chair made from a very light white material from a stack nearby and sat down—within a safe distance of the pool. As if you couldn’t reach him if you wanted to…
“Are you gonna be okay with her?”
“Yeah, man… I’ve been through worse.”
“Alright… call if there’s any problems at all, okay?”
Eddie smiled bitterly. “Will do.”
The remaining boys nodded. They gave you one final glance before they left and Eddie and you were alone.
The silence was loud, it almost hurt your ears. But what irked you even more was this weird feeling that kept spreading in your chest. You wanted him to like you, wanted his approval… and you just couldn’t figure out why.
“Hey… Nix,” Eddie finally said. You nodded at him. Hey. What would you give to be able to speak to him…
“So… so you’re from the Upside Down then?”
You tilted your head and nodded.
“Are there more like you?”
You nodded again.
“Wow… what… what do I call you? I mean, what are you? A mermaid?”
Mermaid… you had heard Dustin use the same term. You shrugged. Why not?
“Alright then… we have mermaids here too.”
Your eyes widened.
“Oh, no, I mean… we have stories about them. Books and movies and shit. And they’re in Dungeons & Dragons, that’s a fantasy game. I play in a club, called it the Hellfire Club. Yeah, we have a band too, we play metal,” he rambled.
You looked at him with intrigue. Music? Metal? Band? Dungeons & Dragons? You only understood half of the things he was telling you about but you could tell that he was passionate about them, tilting your head when he started talking more about the mermaids in this fantasy game, mermaids that looked similar to you.
“They usually live for up to five-hundred years in the game and they can shape-shift into humans.”
Shapeshift into humans? You tilted your head.
“They usually have a +8 racial bonus on any Swim check to perform some special action or something like that and they can always choose to take ten on a Swim check, even if they’re distracted. It can use the run action while swimming, provided they swim in a straight line but…” He trailed off as you blinked at him. You did not have a clue what he was talking about and you were certain he had just realised that. Your heart sped up when he smiled. What was going on with you?
You rested your forearms on the edge of the pool, practically glued to his lips as he calmed down a little and then told you about his favourite music groups like Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Dio and finally, the music that he was making music himself.
“I play guitar in our band. Gonna play stadium tours with Corroded Coffin one day, you’ll see.” He grinned. You had no doubt whatsoever that he would be successful. Men like him always were. Pure souls received only kindness after initial hardships. Somehow… somehow you knew that.
Your gaze fell to his stomach where a small strip of skin was visible between his ripped trousers and his washed-out band t-shirt. You caught a glimpse of what resembled a scar before you followed your yellow eyes down to where his skin was on display and tugged it down quickly.
He must have been injured before—badly. Scarring only occurred when the human body was unable to heal back to its original state… right? You bit your lower lip. Did it have something to do with your dimension? The Upside Down? None of the boys had been particularly fazed about seeing you. Surprised, yes… but there had been no genuine shock. You liked that more than you would like to admit.
“Maybe I’ll bring my guitar next time. Play you some tunes…” he offered timidly, one of his hands playing with his curly hair. You nodded eagerly. You would love to hear music from this dimension, it sounded wonderful. Perhaps you could also—
“Munson! I know you’re here! Say something, freak!”
You flinched. Whoever this voice belonged to, they were not friendly. Eddie’s eyes widened. He tensed up and jumped up from his chair, his brown gaze darting over to you. “Hide! Quick! He can’t see you!”
You nodded and dove underwater, watching the situation unfold from below the surface. Luckily, it was dark and the water was mucky enough for you to remain unseen.
“Well, well, well… there you are. Fucking knew I saw Harrington’s car in the parking lot.” A blonde boy stepped in sight. He was pale, sweaty—and he had a downright murderous expression on his face.
“Jason, man… hey. Out of the hospital, I heard? Glad to see you’re feeling better, man. Past weeks have been crazy,” you heard Eddie say.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Munson, you’re the reason our town is going to shit in the first place.”
“I’m not…”
“Shut up! Now I know the police won’t lock you up until they have evidence that you killed Chrissy and the others but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep investigating on my own. I’ll give you one chance to come with me.”
The reason? Locked up? Killed? Did this Jason blame Eddie for the earthquakes? How would he be responsible for them? This was Henry, those were his murders that tore at the very fabric of the dimensions…
“Listen, Jason, you got this all wrong, man. I didn’t kill anyone. I just got dragged into this, alright? I promise I didn’t do anything.”
“You turning yourself in or not?”
You couldn’t make out Eddie’s response, perhaps because he didn’t give one. Instead, you watched Jason start at him, pushing him so hard he lost his balance and fell on the wet tiles with a groan. He inched back helplessly but not fast enough. Jason towered above him and grabbed him by the collar before he could even think about escaping, next thing you knew, his fist connected with Eddie’s face. You gasped for air. Again, and again, and again.
Eddie was flailing. He was fighting back of course but Jason looked like one of those humans who were exceptionally strong due to repeated physical activity. Eddie’s orientation bled out with every single punch Jason threw, blood disfiguring his beautiful features. He let go of Eddie’s shirt, knocking him back and then, he kicked him in the stomach—right where you had caught a glimpse of freshly healed scars.
Eddie groaned and moaned, unable to fight back anymore. With his strength fading and the pain taking over, you could only imagine the torture he was enduring. You clenched your fists, anger flowing through your veins like liquid fire. You’d watched this long enough.
With a hiss, you whacked your tail and jumped out of the water, latching onto Jason’s back. You bared your fangs, yanking his neck back to give yourself access, and bit down as hard as you could. It was surprisingly easy to break human skin. His blood gushed into your mouth, fuelling your instincts to drink him dry. He was yelling, of course, screaming in pain. You were not being gentle. There were more discreet ways to go about feeding but Jason, whoever he was and whatever he blamed Eddie for, deserved the pain.
So you kept drinking, sip after sip after sip until somebody yanked your head back and tossed you on the ground, too far away from the pool for you to slip back into the water. Eddie? No, it couldn’t have been Eddie. You glanced over to him, spotting his curled-up form on the wet tiles.
It was Steve. Steve had come back, he’d been the one to drag you off of him. Jason was unconscious. Steve had wrapped Jason’s arm around his neck, barely able to hold him up.
“Shit, are you okay, man?” he called over to Eddie. “Someone’s gonna have to stay with… with her.” You didn’t fail to notice that he did not call you by the name Dustin had given you.
“Yeah…” he grunted. “I’m alright… I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yepp… I just need a moment.”
“Alright, fine, I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright? I’m gonna tell him a wild animal attacked him or something like that…”
Your tail was tingling. You didn’t like the fresh air from this dimension enveloping it. Steve left all the while you wiped the remaining blood from your chin and turned over. You froze. Something was different. Something was… off.
You attempted to whack your tail, desperate to get back into the water. Every instinct, every fibre of your being was screaming for you to get back in, to get back to safety… but you had to make sure that Eddie was okay.
You looked down and… gasped for air. You had… legs. Real legs with knees, calves, feet, and toes… both jerked when you tried to move them like your tail, using your core strength like you normally did. It didn’t get you very far at all.
Eddie groaned again. You took a deep breath, frustrated at your lack of understanding. How were they supposed to work then? How were you supposed to move? You had to get to Eddie, you had to… another groan.
You flipped over again, ignoring your legs completely and inched yourself forward with your hands, crawling and entirely relying on your upper body strength until you reached him. Eddie’s brown eyes widened when he realised how close you were, hovering above him. His breathing quickened, his expression full of horror… scared. He was scared. Scared… of you?
No… no, you had only wanted to help him, to save him! Gently, you lifted your hand and brushed your fingertips over his right cheekbone. His nose was bleeding and his right eye was a little swollen from the punches Jason had landed.
“Oh… oh.” He realised that you did not mean to hurt him quickly, his body relaxing a little. Relief flooded your veins. “I’m okay… t-thanks. You really…” Eddie tried to sit up, moaning once more in the process.
“Shit, you’ve got legs! Jesus H. Christ, you have legs! And… oh… you’re… you’re, uh…” He blushed. You were naked. Without a shadow of a doubt, that was what he was going to say.
You breathed out. Yes… yes, that. Even so, however, you were still covered in grime and the slimy residue your skin produced to keep itself moisturised. It could not have been a pretty sight.
Eddie scrambled to his feet. He almost bent over when another wave of pain hit his stomach—and you wished for nothing more than to stop his suffering. You knew you could. All you had to do, it was… you bit your lower lip as you watched him take off his leather jacket and wrap it around you, covering you. It was warm, soft. It was comfortable, made you feel safe… and it smelled like him. It smelled like smoke.
“Alright, let’s uh… can you stand up? Can you do that for me?” Stand up… he meant… like him? You nodded, trying your best to mimic his movements. You made it to your knees after some initial struggles but then, as soon as you attempted to lift just one leg, you lost your balance. Eddie was by your side before you could even blink.
“Whoa, hey… careful there, I got you… let me, uh…” Your lips parted when he kneeled down himself and hooked his left arm under the back of your knees, the other wrapping around your middle, and then… he scooped you up.
“Would you like to take a shower?”
You tilted your head. A what?
“Oh, uh… a shower. Like… rinse down? Get washed up? You’re probably not familiar with that concept in the water.”
You shook your head. You clearly weren’t. But you did indeed want to wash all that slime off of yourself. You looked down at your hands, spreading your fingers. The webs between them were gone too.
Eddie took you to an adjacent room. Several showerheads lined the wall and when he turned one on, the water came gushing down like a little waterfall. It was almost a little fascinating… turning the flow of water on and off in this dimension, just like that… how did they build that?
Eddie used his foot to pull another one of those light chairs toward the running showerhead and sat you down, removing the leather jacket from your shoulders so it wouldn’t get wet.
“Can you, uh… do you need my help?” he asked. You shook your head. No… you’d manage somehow. As you began to rub your skin under the running water, Eddie pulled out the same little metal box Dustin had used to communicate with his friends.
“Dustin? Dustiiin… DUSTIN! Come on, man!”
The box gave a static noise and then, you could hear Dustin’s voice.
“Eddie? What’s wrong, are you okay?”
“Has Steve been in touch with you yet?”
“No… no, why? He dropped us off at the water tower and left, where is he?”
“I, uh… we might have a situation here, man.”
Silence. “What kind of situation?”
“Jason found me. I’m alright, Steve made it here in time, he got him out but uh… there’s something you’ll need to see.”
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” Dustin exclaimed. “Did he see Nix? Did he hurt her?”
“See, I told you it was not a good idea to send Eddie out there!” Lucas exclaimed in the background.
Eddie looked at you and you blinked. No. You did not regret what you had done to Jason.
“She saved me, man, she attacked him. Bit his neck and drank his blood like a fucking vampire.”
“Holy shit! Okay… okay, we’ll… I’m calling Steve, we’ll be right there!”
Eddie covered his face with his free hand. “There’s something else.”
“What? What is it?”
“She has legs.”
“What?”
“She has legs. She jumped out of the water and she didn’t go back in and… now she has legs.”
“Eddie, don’t take your eyes off of her. Don’t let her run!”
Eddie looked at you sitting there on the plastic chair and attempting to move your feet one at a time. You were hardly successful but at least, the running water felt nice on your skin.
“She can’t even walk, man…”
“We’ll be right there, okay? Give us like… ten minutes! Over and out!”
Eddie sighed and put the metal box away. He jumped into action, moved you away from the shower stream, and retrieved a soft piece of fabric from a shelf nearby. He also took one for himself, cleaning up the blood on his face.
“Here… you can dry off with that.” Oh. Of course. You did as you were told and then breathed out in relief when he returned his leather jacket to you. It was so big it almost swallowed you whole. In the meantime, Eddie turned off the shower and then leaned against the wall, his face distorted in pain as he put his palm flat against his stomach.
What if… what if the wounds the creatures in your dimension had inflicted on him had not yet healed off properly? What if Jason had hurt him more than he’d planned? What if… what if you helped?
You opened your mouth, desperate to speak but apart from an audible breath, not a single sound escaped your lips. So you decided to let your body speak instead. You reached for him, leaning forward. Gosh, you couldn’t even walk over to him… this was pathetic. You felt so helpless… so vulnerable. And you’d had no idea your tail could do that, adapt to your environment to let you… walk on land. Well… if only you knew how to use them. Perhaps Eddie could teach you. They all made it look so easy.
Are you okay? you tried to say. You looked at him expectantly, relieved when he caught up.
“I’m alright… I’ve taken worse,” he said with a grin. You wished you could return it. But you were concerned. So you pointed at his stomach.
“That? Yeah… long story. You ever come across those gross bats with those creepy ass tails?”
You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Not that you’re creepy!” he quickly corrected himself. He laughed, clearly a little embarrassed. “They use their tails to choke people, that kind of thing… yeah, they, uh… they got me pretty badly.”
Your lips parted. The bats had done this to him? Had caused those scars? You leaned forward even further at the risk of falling over, a sly attempt to lift his shirt. You couldn’t help with those scars but whatever injuries Jason had caused…
“Eddie! We’re here!” You breathed out, leaning back and clutching the leather jacket when Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Steve came in sight. They all stared at you as if you’d grown a second head instead of a pair of legs.
All of them were out of breath. It was hard to believe they’d hurried this much because of you.
“This day is so messed up…” Lucas muttered.
“Tell me about it,” Eddie gave back. He turned, wincing in pain yet again. Overcome with the urge to hug him, you gasped for air. You decided there and then. You were going to heal him.
“Eddie… are you alright?” Dustin asked. He nodded in response. “Good. Okay. So. The most important question right now is, where do we take Nix?”
Mike took a step back. “I can’t hide her in my basement…”
“What about Rick’s boathouse?” Eddie suggested. “You said the police already searched the place so they’ll have ruled it out. We head back to the lake and hide there.”
“That could work. Nix would be close to water just in case too…” Dustin added. Eddie nodded. It was a good idea. You did prefer the lake over the standing water at the community pool anyway.
“Back to Lover’s Lake? So why did we get her away from there in the first place again?”
“Because, Lucas, she had no idea where she was and if anyone had found her there before us… that could have ended badly considering what she did to Jason.” Oh yeah… you still didn’t feel bad about that one.
“So… you said she can’t walk?” Steve asked. Eddie shook his head.
“Had to carry her,” he said.
“Okay, let’s get her to the car then. At least I don’t have to drag a fucking freezer around anymore now.”
You gasped for air when Steve lifted you up. You didn’t feel unsafe but you would have preferred Eddie to carry you again. But then again… it was probably for the best, given that he was in pain. With a deep breath, you calmed yourself down and let Steve tuck you into the car. Confusion struck your face and you froze when he fastened two straps of leather across your body to keep you from moving. You squirmed. Was he tying you up?
“Oh no, don’t panic, alright? See this?” He pointed at the red piece of the buckle holding you in place. “It’s a seatbelt. If you press down here, you can get out. It’s a safety thing, alright?”
You nodded—relief, however, only washed over you when Eddie got in the car as well and sat down next to you.
“We need to get her some proper clothes,” Steve said as he started the engine and pulled the car out of the parking lot. “I’m gonna give Nancy a call.”
“What about Robin?”
“Visiting family in Iowa. She won’t be back until Friday.”
“Right…” Dustin sighed and then… silence spread in the car as if someone had draped a sheet over you all. You scooted closer to Eddie. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, right? You’d seen it in those beautiful brown eyes.
You waited, patiently, when Steve finally stopped the car again. Eddie unfastened your seatbelt for you and then, Steve was carrying you again. You clung to his shirt until you reached the boathouse, looking around in awe.
You liked the atmosphere here. It was dark and gloomy and it smelled like water—the water of the lake. Eddie had been right, you did feel comfortable here.
“Put her there.” Steve brought you over to the old and battered sofa Eddie pointed to. You shivered. Ugh, you were not quite sure you liked having legs. One thing was for sure—you did not want to be left alone but now that this Jason was after Eddie for some delusional accusations, what if he left?
You reached for him, holding his hand. Dustin chuckled.
“I think she doesn’t want you to leave, Eddie.”
“Oh. I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m not leaving.”
Sweetheart? That was an endearing term, right? Did that mean he liked you? You nodded, pulling up the corners of your mouth. Smiling.
“She’s smiling!” Mike said. In an instant, all eyes were on you. But yours… yours were on Eddie. You shivered again, unable to control the trembling of your body. You’d never been cold before. It must have had something to do with those stupid legs.
“Hey, hey, are you cold?” Eddie put his other hand on your shoulder and you nodded.
“Alright, let me, uh… get you a blanket or something.”
Reluctantly, you let go of his hand to let him find one. You watched as he frantically started opening the cupboards and drawers in the boathouse.
“She’s from the Upside Down and lives in water, how can she even be cold?” Lucas whispered. “I thought whatever lives there doesn’t like warmth.”
“Maybe it’s because she has legs now? I mean, that must have messed with her somehow,” Dustin answered.
“Right, right…”
It was then Eddie returned with a blanket and wrapped it around you. You practically leaned against him when he sat down on the sofa with you.
Dustin clapped his hands. “Alright… back to work. Steve, are you sure Jason is out of the picture?”
“I dropped him off at the hospital, he was in pretty bad shape.”
“It’s kind of ironic he was only just released today,” Mike added.
“We’ll bring over some food first thing in the morning tomorrow, and clothes for Nix.”
“Sounds good.”
You pressed yourself even further against Eddie as the group said their goodbyes and took their leave. He winced when you accidentally came in contact with the exact spot Jason had been kicking him. Your lips parted. His injuries…
“Jesus H. Christ… you gave me quite the scare back there, you know?”
You smiled apologetically.
“You’re not gonna bite me, are you?”
Quickly, you shook your head. No… of course not. And if you ever did, if he ever let you feed on him… you’d made sure it wouldn’t hurt.
“Those your, uh… gills?”
Eddie’s hand came up to stroke the bump right below your eye, concealed well by your hair. You gave him a quizzical look. Your what?
“I mean, do you breathe underwater with these?” Oh. Yes.
You nodded, opened your mouth, took a deep breath…
“Eddie…” you whispered.
The boy’s eyes widened.
“Did you just… did you just say my name?”
Your smile grew wider. “Eddie…” you croaked again, louder and more confident now.
“Shit, you can speak!”
He grinned—and it truly was the cutest sight to look at. No more delaying now. You leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands and kissed him.
Gently at first, you moved your lips against his, your eyes fluttering shut when a sensation unlike anything you had ever felt before spread throughout your entire body. He froze at first, unsure of how to react, what to do. Perhaps even taken aback or disgusted a creature from the Upside Down would kiss him…
A moan escaped your lips when he started kissing you back instead, his arms wrapping around you. It was your cue—your cue to start humming.
“What… what are you doing?” he whispered against your lips. You couldn’t allow him to break the kiss, not now.
“Healing…” you whispered back. You kept humming, moving your lips against his ferociously.
You could practically feel his frown and yet, he did not pull away. He trusted you—and that felt so empowering you were confident you would be able to walk around now.
“W-what…” Eventually, you allowed him to break the kiss. His lips were swollen and so were yours, both your breathing heavy.
Eddie felt his face first and then his stomach. There was no pain, there were no injuries left, only the scars you were unable to will out of existence.
“You… you actually healed me?”
You nodded. Little did he know that this meant that he was yours now, in a way. You didn’t give this gift freely, not to just anyone but only to the purest of souls. The Upside Down had been pure too once before Henry Creel had polluted it with violence and reckless murder.
“Thank you, Nix.”
You smiled, cuddling up to him. Perhaps ending up in this new dimension had not been so bad after all. Not with Eddie Munson by your side.
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A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥
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fyeahnix · 9 months
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Dogsong | Sevika/Reader Explicit 10.6k F/F CW: breathplay, mild daddy kink, lesbian smut, no y/n use AO3 (read here for correct texting format)
High-energy evenings in Zaun melted down and metamorphosed into bustling and boisterous nights. Laborers swarmed from their day jobs tired and grumbling, eager to shake off the stench of a hard day's work with an even harder pint of hooch. The last rays of sunshine retired beneath the horizon; neon streaked the Lanes, picking up the slack where natural light abandoned its role. Buskers and ruffians bathed in magenta and mint hustled blue collar workers and businessmen alike. Black market vendors screamed over drummers to fence their hottest products before closing. Jericho's food stall was packed to the brim with Zaunites of every race imaginable starving for their last meal of the day. But The Last Drop? Closed for the night.
The bar-turned-nightclub was the landmark halfway point in your designated path home from work. The chartreuse lights blinked on one by one as the giant drew close to opening every night. Once the last light flickered on, the club was open to scrounge every last cog out of its dedicated patrons. Tonight, the cyclops slept. No lights and no patrons lined up around the corner waiting for the doors to open. The owner was preoccupied with more pressing matters this Friday evening.
How did you know that? The same reason your evening walk home was as peaceful as they came, even around the shadiest crevices of the Lanes. You'd witnessed muggings and assaults before, dodged solicitors and chem-stunted drug dealers seeking to become your next plug. Zaun's infamous crime lord, Silco, ruled with a more notorious underboss as his right hand—your girlfriend, Sevika. And your relationship with her had its perks. She made doubly sure that your usual trek home was safeguarded by her underlings hidden in plain sight. A watchful weapons salesman here, a nodding thug there. "Zaun royalty" was as close a descriptor as anything else.
When you entered your condo on Zaun’s Promenade level, you knew Sevika had only left recently. Wisps of cedarwood cologne clung to the foyer and living room and trailed back into the bedroom. Last year's name day gift to her—a custom, earthy note mastercrafted from Renata Glasc herself. You were thankful for the connection since you'd had next to no experience with fragrances on your own. Still, as infrequently as she sprayed the unique, luxurious scent, it left you yearning for her all the same.
An important business dinner whisked her away tonight. Normally, you were invited to events as her plus one, and her boss, Silco, would regard you with a gentle cant of his head. Tonight? The final stages of new business dealings—no outsiders allowed. Fair enough.
You still pouted at her yesterday when she had relayed the news. Sevika wasn’t immune to your perfected puppy-dog eyes, a skill you picked up from the very hounds you bred and trained in your profession. She placated you with a kiss on the forehead and the promise of dinner at one of Zaun’s finest establishments tomorrow night. At least you had that to look forward to after a long week and barely any time alone with her.
Sevika had left her discarded clothing and towels scattered from the bedroom to the bathroom, and you rolled your eyes at once again having to remind her to pick her shit up. A quick scolding text would suffice, but you decided against it. She probably left in a hurry again, and she wouldn't answer anyway. Rarely had the opportunity when discussing business.
Under steaming water, you showered, scrubbed away any lingering dog fur and hidden slobber. The relief was instant and welcome, but as water pounded your face and neck, you found yourself missing a pair of hands on you. You didn’t shower together often; between your schedules and Sevika’s disdain for hot showers, there wasn’t much opportunity. Friday was your dedicated time together in preparation to spend most of the night at The Last Drop. And Janna, did she know how to use her hands during that time.
Where would she have ventured tonight? What winding road would she have traveled? Which muscles would she have massaged first? Back, traps, deltoid? How far down would she have dragged her lips? You shivered at ghostly memories caressing your neck, your shoulders and hips. Arched into the imaginary fingertips under your breasts and across your ribs. Held still at the phantom hand nestled between your thighs—
But it was far, far too early to get carried away. She'd be back before the twenty-second bell, right?
Out of the shower, you stole a shirt from Sevika's armoire and paired it with your own underwear. Your shared bed was a mess of cream sheets and burgundy blankets that neither of you had time to straighten. You didn't mind the mess as much when you flopped onto the bed and snuggled into Sevika’s pillow. Her lingering scent, smoke and spice, rose proper butterflies in your belly. And with those butterflies, memories of your first encounter fluttered back.
You had met over two years ago. Ungrateful new owners and teething puppies made your week worse than hell, and that pushed you to craving a drink or five at the first watering hole you laid your eyes on. The Last Drop loomed in the distance with a "Grand Reopening" sign, so you shrugged and took your place in line.
New ownership—a middle-aged man with a timid adoptive daughter he doted on—had seized control after the previous owner's mysterious disappearance and death. The heady club atmosphere didn't match his gaunt, professional demeanor. The homely vibe was rendered extinct, usurped with neon and black lights. Exotic dancers shared a newly-built stage with underground indie rock bands, entertaining patrons drifting under the influence of a new street drug called "shimmer."
You'd taken solace at the end of the bar—ordered and enjoyed your first shot of vodka, no chaser, to wash down the anger and frustration. The squirrelly bartender eyed you closely when you quickly waved for a second shot. You were a lightweight and it took no time for the alcohol to kick in. You rimmed the second glass as a reminder to pace yourself.
The crowd and bass had been deafening. Pool balls cracked behind you in a rowdy game of nine-ball. Players swore and roared insults across the table over a heated poker game in the distance. Your guard lowered, easily lost in the music and bluster.
A piscine Vestayan male had approached you and leaned against the bar in your personal bubble. Glanced you up and down, licking his chops and flicking his barbels. Asked how your day was. You initially clocked him as bad news and hindsight confirmed that.
Short answers didn't cut it for him. Neither had telling him to go fuck his mother sideways with a rusty axe. His webbed, moist fingers landed on your shoulder, and when you jerked away and attempted to stand, they wrapped your upper arm. The strength in his grip was herculean, and you immediately regretted even venturing out for the night.
You had broken his hold enough to attempt an escape but bumped into someone solid behind you. A tall and dark-skinned woman with a strong nose and full lips had inserted herself between you. She took a final swig of her drink, then set it on the bar like it was a piece of fine antique glassware. Glanced the guy up and down before tilting up her chin.
The music had drowned most voices out, but you heard her rumble clear as day. "Is there a problem here?"
The guy's barbels flickered again. He released your arm, shook his head, and slinked off like the plague rat he really was. No argument, no fight, no challenge.
Before you'd taken the second shot, she stopped you and asked to buy you a drink instead. You scowled until she mentioned the drink had been spiked when your attention was diverted. One furtive glance, and the bartender immediately discarded it without a word. The entire ordeal made you want to leave and sulk in your bedroom for the rest of the night.
Sevika, as she had introduced herself, was persistent in a way unlike the asshole from before. She didn't press the drink more than once but sat with you for over three hours at the bar and chatted you up until you released the tension in your shoulders and jaw. Growing up in Zaun accustomed you to a certain flavor of brusque speech but never with the level of humor Sevika peppered in.
As the night carried on without issue and you planned to leave, she had offered to walk you home. You hesitated until you realized how much bigger and taller she was than other patrons in the club. There was no telling who you'd run into on the way back home, so you did what you thought was best and accepted the offer.
Vague conversation had colored the walk home. Your apartment at the time was over a mile away from the club, so you were thankful for the company in the dead of night. Sevika strolled a safe distance from you, never invaded your personal space, nor did she seek anything in return. She was, however, persistent.
"Drink offer's still open if you're interested."
You'd told her you'd consider it.
The smirk she'd given you was telling, like she already knew the answer you'd give. She fished an unfinished joint from a tin in her pocket.
Inhaled.
Exhaled plumes through the nose.
"The bartender, Thieram? Ask for me if you're ever at the Drop again. I'm there most nights."
"Most nights? Why so often?"
She'd laughed, drawing your blush at what you assumed was a rather stupid question.
"Guess you'll have to find out."
She'd taken a final drag, flicked the roach into the pavement across the way, and wished you good night.
You'd taken up her offer the next night.
It wasn’t extravagant or any novel-esque version of a meet-cute. A bad week at work and a pushy asshole brought you together purely by chance. Sevika didn't tolerate harassment in her club, and she thought you looked pissed off enough to strangle a gigalodon. Had plenty of bark between your teeth, she said, but lacked the bite to back it up.
And she was absolutely smitten with it.
You hugged Sevika's pillow closer, memories drifting as a Piltie drama slurred in the background.
Bzzt, bzzt!
Your phone stirred you out of nodding off. You unlocked it and checked the notifications. Sevika?
Should have smoked before this shit…
Poor baby. Dinner must have been stale. You typed up a response.
that bad?
It's bad. Fucking piltie. Won't stop bragging about his summer home and horse stables in the countryside…
ugh, another, seriously?
Good for business. Unfortunately…
details?
Sevika's responses were quick. You imagined her resting her chin on her bronze fist, right hand typing away under the table as a haughty socialite bored the group. You couldn't picture Chross having any patience for such gloating bullshit. And Smeech? Likely snapping his jaws and stroking his short beard.
You mean besides his apparent connections to Demacia? Nah. Don't have em all yet, go fucking figure. I might fall asleep at this rate…
I'll keep you company bear~
What would I do without you?
oh I dunno, I could prob list about 17 things…
Shut up lol
Sevika's following texts staggered in. Bouts of instant messages would follow minutes-long periods of utter silence. The updates for the meeting proved to be entertaining at the very least. Silco sat unamused. Renata picked at her nails while Eramis picked at his food. The new dealer droned on about the partnerships he garnered topside and how much wealth and prosperity he could provide Zaun. The man had his head crammed up his own ass, Sevika said, but Silco at least straightened in his seat once talks of shimmer exchanges with Demacian black markets commenced.
Despite the spicy entertainment, boredom set in for you as well. There was nothing else on TV save for the usual Friday night drama or movie. Any friends you had were more than likely busy with their usual weekly activities, as you would have been. You stared at your phone, hoping and willing for a text from Sevika to come in after your last response. None did.
Still, you could garner her attention. She may be stoic and gruff oftentimes, but she'd raise an eyebrow at a few salacious words, two if you were lucky. Why not roll the dice?
Vikaaa… how much longer? really been missing your hands all day
It was a start, and you buried yourself deeper into your blankets eager for a response. Sevika didn't enjoy texting much. It was tedious for her, too slow and monotonous where a simple phone call would suffice. Not to mention, she could only text with one hand. While she'd past gotten accustomed to gauging the grip strength of her metal prosthetic, her fingers proved a different challenge altogether. "Claws" were more accurate as she'd unintentionally gouged at least three phone screens by now. If not for you, she wouldn't text at all. You were grateful she'd made an exception for your disdain of most phone calls.
Still, the wait was agonizing. Minutes sailed by and you drifted before the indicator danced on Sevika's side of the conversation.
Yeah? Funny. I was just thinking about wrapping my hand around that pretty little neck of yours. Squeeze just a bit so I can hear you struggle to breathe.
Sevika may not have enjoyed texting, but she certainly wasn't terrible at it. You grazed your neck right where she would normally place her hand. Yours wasn't big enough.
dont you wanna hear me choke on your fingers instead?
You wet your lips thinking about Sevika's fingers exploring your mouth. Brushing your lower lip, stroking your tongue. You crossed one leg over the over, smashing your thighs together as Sevika's response came in.
Careful, sweetheart. Keep talking like that and I'll have you choke on my dick.
Would that have been so bad? You didn't think so.
But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Tell me where you want my hands first.
You swallowed hard. Playing hardball already only to dangle it over your head like a carrot. If that didn't say much about Sevika, you didn't know what else did. But fine, you could deal for now.
everywhere fucking everywhere. want your hands down my back, squeezing my throat, my tits, my ass, janna, I really want you playing with my tits right now
Your thoughts soared as wildly as a cliff-shrike’s first flight. Sevika's caress was calculated. She knew where to glide her hands to make you sing, where to prod her claws to make you growl. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't emulate her precision and poise. And her size? Out of the question. Your feeble attempt now was another failure for the books. A pinch at your nipple and clit coaxed a moan from you, but you still heard Sevika's usual croon of "patience" in the back of your mind.
Hadn't you been patient enough? You'd been waiting all day, hell, all week, and dragging your thumb over your clit for an ounce of relief grinded your nerves to ash. You huffed. If you had to suffer, then so did Sevika; it was only fair. You gathered your bearings enough to type a follow-up.
and your fingers? fuck I'm getting so wet thinking about them. want em in and around my mouth, pinching my nipples, buried in my cunt…
You set the phone down and breathed deeply. You wanted to do more, tease more, show Sevika what she was missing being away right now. You bit your bottom lip as you contemplated. Sevika would never say no to any selfies of you, even if they were sent at the most inopportune moments. Hell, if anything, they'd rile her up even more. Couple that with the danger of opening them around prying eyes, and you had a recipe for disaster.
You tugged your underwear down your hips and rested them at mid-thigh, exposing yourself to cool air and crisp sheets. From memory, you mimicked where Sevika would glide her hands in habitual order: jaw, sternum, hips, ribs, breasts. Between your thighs, a gentle tease, before running one finger right up your slit.
A sigh crept from your lungs.
You grabbed your phone—Sevika still hadn’t texted you—and snapped a quick photo of yourself. Your lower half, hand buried beneath a mound of hair, right on display. With minimal internal debate, you shifted positions for a second and caught your full-length mirror in your periphery. Perfect. With some adjusting, you knelt, bent over face down, and snapped a photo of your cunt and ass up on full display. Not at all an unfamiliar position. Satisfied, you shuttled them off into the void with a message:
missing you
It took no time at all before you saw the texting indicator bounce once more. Sevika's response, however, was delayed. She texted, then stopped and repeated the pattern three more times. What stole her attention so suddenly? A new proposition? A conversational shift? Maybe a nosy chem-baron spying over her shoulder?
At long last, her response dropped in and the corner of your lip lifted.
fuck
…Or she was speechless. That worked too.
Pride puffed your chest. With any luck, you'd rile Sevika up so much that she'd have no choice but to fold you into the compromising positionings you photographed yourself in. It wasn't the first time you tested the waters with an exhibitionist stunt like that. Certainly wouldn't be the last.
You'd often hung out with Sevika at The Last Drop on Friday nights. Amateur poker players—who were much too busy coveting what wasn’t theirs to keep their cog purses from drying up—dared to ogle you as you sat perched on her lap. You stared and winked at the spineless ones all while murmuring sweet nothings in your girlfriend's ear. They'd tug at their collars, lick cracked lips, swish their ragged tails like they had any chance in hell. Tunnel vision prevented them from gawking at your little grinds on Sevika's thigh. That or she glared daggers at them when you did. She was never bothered, only playfully whispered for you to knock it off in a voice so husky that you didn't mind the threat to pay you back in her private office upstairs.
Your phone vibrated right before you aimed to toss it across the bed. While you expected another text, a quick glance at the screen flashed Sevika's name with a heart next to it.
A phone call? Now?
You answered. "Didn't think you could talk right now, bear."
"You're a fuckin' menace, you know that?" she drawled, halfway between a growl and purr.
If only she could see you humorously twirling a lock of hair at that.
"Know who almost saw that? Take a guess."
You scrunched your nose. "Chross?" Gross.
"Nope."
"Please not Silco…" You didn't think you could face that man again if he ever saw those images. It was a dangerous game you played, sure, but anyone but him.
Her silence spoke volumes and your stomach dropped at least fifty feet. Of all the people…
"...Sev, I'm serious."
Sevika snickered. "I'm fuckin' with you. Nah, not Silco. Glasc."
Renata? That was more than a relief. Still, she'd throw you a sly glance across a dinner table the next time you saw her, but she wouldn't judge you for it. You may have only been acquaintances, but she was more than open about the certain… souvenirs she claimed from her own sexual escapades.
"Came at the perfect time. Needed a break and a smoke." On cue, you heard the crackle of embers from Sevika's inhale. "But don't think I didn't have anything for you. Check your messages."
You pulled away from your phone to do just that. She had—two images—and excitement trilled up your spine as you gaped at them.
Sevika took them in a restroom that was nearly as nice as the basic ones you'd seen topside. Soft lighting highlighted her dusky, brown skin well, accentuating a strong jawline and the sharp bridge of a once-broken nose. Jet-black hair was fashioned into its usual top knot with a few loose strands framing her face. The lower half brushed her shoulders and warned of an upcoming haircut. The black button-up she wore was crisp and tailored, one sleeve missing to accommodate her bronze arm, the other rolled up to her elbow to flaunt corded muscle in her forearm. The first button on the shirt remained unbuttoned, and you licked your lips at the tease of skin leading down her chest. Your eyes followed and you took note of the simple elegance of the dark brown waistcoat protecting her broad, muscular chest. Her gaze fixated on the phone carefully cradled in her claws.
You swallowed hard at the next image as another long drag crackled in your ear.
The hand clutching the phone hadn't moved, but Sevika's attention did. Light wolf-grey eyes bore holes in the mirror. Where her free hand had been jammed in her pocket previously, now it was thrust into the front of her undone black chinos. Unbuckled, unbuttoned, unzipped. Free from the confines, she displayed the gunmetal grey boxer briefs proudly. And with that display came the delicious glimpse of brown skin and trail of dark hair that snuck into her underwear.
Sevika was unbelievably handsome—suited up, naked, or any state of undress in-between.
The cherry on top? She was packing. The slight bulge in her underwear commanded your attention, made you salivate. Janna only knew you wanted to grind your ass against that. Or maybe worship with your lips.
"Don't get quiet now. You had so much to say earlier. What was it? You wanted my fingers in and around your mouth?"
A "yes" slipped between your lips like a snake's slither and so did your hand slither between your thighs again. Your eyes fluttered closed.
"Wanted them sheathed in that fucking pussy?"
You choked out a moan. A barely noticeable hitch in Sevika's breath coaxed a tug at the corner of your lip.
"Answer me," Sevika said, voice hardening.
You scrambled to find your own voice as you rolled your hips and lifted one leg. "Mhmm…" you started, attempting a pathetic nod Sevika would never see. "Want 'em deep. So fuckin’ deep."
Sevika sighed deeply. "Baby?"
The way her voice lilted forced your eyes open.
"I want you to stop touching 'til I get home. Can you do that for me?"
Like the hounds you trained daily, your ears perked. You'd grown accustomed to the intention and inflection in her voice and even caught the hint of a smirk at the end. Despite the honey dripping off her words, it was a command, no mistaking it. And though it coaxed a strained whine from your throat, no command she made ever came without buildup towards a worthy payoff. Sevika rewarded patience, after all.
Your words caught in your throat, but you pushed through. “Yes…”
“Yes, what?”
A quick smile broke through. So that's how she wanted to proceed? Considering the long week, you'd definitely play along. Your chest heaved and breath hitched before you spoke the words that served as a verbal handshake to start your "game."
“Yes, Daddy…”
The quick laugh that followed was broken—deep, breathy, a growl of triumph. Shifting fabric crinkled in your ear with a sharp inhale following suit. “That’s my good girl.”
And while you longed for a follow-up to her praise, you received nothing but silence in return. Sevika’s breath still lingered with the occasional drag of her joint. But there was nothing else you could perceive.
…Until you listened closely. Sevika was experienced, a master of controlling her own body. You’d seen as much when she threw rear hooks at the punching bag in your spare room or armlocked sparring partners at the gym. Years of boxing and mixed martial arts trained her to a level of discipline you only coveted. Breath control came to her easily. Well, normally, it did. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” was what she taught you, but her breaths now contradicted her advice. Shaky, uneven, so subtle that she may have been trying to hide it.
And then it clicked.
You tightened your grip on your phone, then released it to trap it between your ear and the bed. You lay there, paralyzed under the fear that if you breathed the wrong way or uttered a word that she’d stop. You shut your eyes and listened. It was a private show in your mind’s eye—Sevika with her hand jammed in her boxers, undulating her touch between her folds, abs flexing with every jerk. Lips parted, the small and cute gap between her front teeth peeking through. Attention focused on nowhere but her own actions.
And you couldn’t do a single thing.
You clamped your thighs together, moist from your slick. No touching… Now it was evident why she voiced the command.
Every Zaunite swear rolled past her lips as she lost herself in her ministrations, and you couldn't help but let a pathetic sigh escape yours.
Sevika shifted and the sudden sound of her belt clinking against the counter startled you. “What I wouldn’t give… to have you on your knees right now.”
Straight to the point. Straight to your cunt.
“Have you look up at me with those pretty eyes. And that pretty fucking mouth.”
There were more than a few occasions that you both had slipped away for a few precious  moments during a business dinner. Lips met tongue met neck. Knees deadened in genuflection on carpet or hard marble, primed for worship. Sevika's breath hot in your ear that she’d forgotten what you tasted like and needed a reminder. If you had attended tonight, you'd bet your life savings you'd have had your face stuffed between her legs as you stared up at her with stars in your eyes.
“You better not be touching right now,” she warned playfully.
“‘M not…” you whispered back. It was hard. So fucking hard to keep your hands balled into the sheets instead buried in your cunt. Patience, a waiting game, and you relaxed as you grew tired and started to drift. “Not touchin’.”
Sevika let a strained groan rip from her chest. She was finished, and the jingle of her belt confirmed as much. As she came down from her high, she inhaled deeply. “What I wouldn’t give… to have you clean me up right now.” Her words echoed twice in your head as your world went black. You would clean her, tongue only, licking up every stray drip of slick that rolled down her muscular thighs. Silence festered between you for a spell, allowing you to delve deeper into the thought until she spoke once more. “Gotta head back. See you when I get home, cariño.”
You drifted into the abyss, your declaration of love dying on your tongue as the call ended.
------
The front door's lock clicked in the distance, and the instinctual bout of anxiety burned away as you realized what it was. Not an intruder, but your girlfriend returning from her business dinner at… first bell? Fuck, she was late. Memories of her earlier words quickly stamped out any surfacing annoyance.
Sevika shut the door and locked it, kicked off her boots, and threw her keys and something else onto the kitchen counter. Despite her size, she ambled silently through the condo, and it was only her usual sigh of relief that allowed you to track her movements to the bathroom. She used the sink, likely washing her hands and face before letting out another exhale that was muffled through a towel. The same routine you committed to memory through a sleepy haze for months prior. The same routine that ended when she finally poked her head into your bedroom.
Her eyes darted between you and the TV before she raised a brow.
"Thought you'd be asleep by now," she said.
"Is that why you told me 'no more touching'?"
Sevika approached and sat on the edge of the bed to hover over you, trapping you between her hands.
"Wasn't expecting it to be that long, baby. Dinner went over an’ our debrief at the Drop took longer than usual too." You scrunched your face in mock annoyance as she leaned in and settled at your collar. "But… I'm here now. So lemme make it up to you."
Sweet citrus undertones intermingled with herbal cigar and her own natural, smoky scent. Memories of your late-night parting kisses outside your old apartment wafted back like pleasant dreams. For a few precious seconds, you shut your eyes, craning your neck to submit to her. And just like old times, you trailed your fingers at her waist before raking your nails up her spine, drinking in the guttural groan at your collar.
Sevika kissed a pathway up your neck and along your jawline before she pulled away just enough to leave her own lips out of reach. Even through the soft, amber ambiance of the room's light, her eyes sparkled with genuine interest. The arcane scars on her left cheek glittered, silky under your fingertips.
"Hi, sweetheart," she said.
A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "Hi, bear."
Sevika closed the distance. Your foreheads knocked, breath mingled, and before her beautiful, dark lips could capture yours in a kiss, you halted her advance with a single finger.
"Uh uh. I know you saw that mess you left out when you came in…"
She sighed, shut her eyes at your light scolding.
"...so please. Pick your shit up and then maybe I'll keep playing with you."
When you let go and she opened her eyes again, her face twisted in half-amusement and half-apology, a cute and unguarded expression she reserved only for you. The twitch in her lips revealed her desire to retort, but ultimately she conceded.
"’M sorry. Woke up late, was in a rush."
"Baby, I told you I was working later today and wouldn't be able to wake you up. Some of the pups are having teething and potty issues this week."
"I know, I know," she murmured against your lips. "Slept through three of my alarms. I'll pick it up. All of it."
"You fucking better," you said, teasing her lips with yours before you steal a kiss. She wasn't caught off guard in the slightest. In fact, she was ready for it, leaned into it with all the bravado of someone who missed a long lost love. When you had your fill, you pulled away with her bottom lip in tow. "Now, stop stalling."
Sevika grumbled in protest. She pecked the corner of your mouth before retreating and snatching the first articles of her discarded outfit from the bedroom floor. The action was entirely juvenile, not at all indicative of the type of person Sevika presented publicly, but well within the line of her subtle humor you grew to love.
Regardless of said task, you couldn't help but break out a smile as you followed her out of the bedroom and into the hallway, a flighty bounce in every step. You tried to hide it as she glowered at you.
With her dirty boxer briefs in hand, she finally spoke. "The hell you smilin’ about?"
"Just find it funny," you said, circling her. "How much you harp on me about being patient. And yet… here you are, having to wait yourself."
Sevika clearly didn't find the predicament humorous. With an upturned brow, she flung her boxers at your face. You didn't have time to react and your head became a makeshift hamper. She choked out a laugh as you tore them off and threw them back at her.
You tailed her through the condo as she picked up her discarded nightwear and towels and tossed them in the hamper. The final destination was your bathroom and you leaned against your sink, biting your lip, suddenly drawn into Sevika’s chosen outfit for the occasion.
“What?” she said. “See somethin’ you like?”
Quite an understatement.
Photos didn’t do her justice. You couldn't help but rove your eyes over her. Her shirt and pants accentuated her toned musculature in a way that made you lick your lips. The getup fit her well, looked comfortable, and even masked her usual disdain for dressing up to “kiss businessman ass.”
You’d once made an offhand comment about how great she’d look in a vest. Her effort clearly didn’t disappoint. For someone who hated dressing up? Damn, did she exceed expectations.
Sevika rolled her eyes and motioned to undress herself. You caught her wrist in yours. Laced your fingers and squeezed as you lowered them both. She raised a brow, eyes searching yours. She was so eager to rid herself of her clothes, but you couldn’t bear letting her tear herself out of them so hastily.
Not so soon.
Not yet.
"Let me?"
She canted her chin. Studied you.
You released her hand and mapped out a path with deft fingers. Up her right thigh, ghosting over her zipper to her hip, relishing the flare of her nostrils. The bathroom light twinkled off the waistcoat's buttons as you ascended over them, each resounding with a simple tap when you flicked them. You traced the visible shirt buttons upwards, stopping at her sternum where it flared open. Beautiful brown skin starred with small freckles and moles gave way where you pressed. You glided over her neck, felt her throat bob when she swallowed. The scar on her left cheek shimmered under your touch, silky aqua and turquoise marbling that guided you back down her jaw and neck. Back to the second button on her shirt to finally undo it.
You looped the button through its hoop and more of Sevika's skin became available for you to dusk your lips over. Her audible exhale drove you further as you released the third. More skin, more area to cover with gentle and practiced kisses. If you could cover every inch of her chest, you would. Stain her, mark her, claim her with the most seductive shade of lipstick you owned. A rich burgundy that matched her favorite poncho would suffice, wouldn't it?
While you kept your mouth busy at her chest, you released every button on her shirt and waistcoat. As much as you desired to roll them off her shoulders, you kept them on, admiring how they framed her over her dark sports bra. You scored down her taut abs with your nails until you found and fiddled with her belt. A bit of handiwork made releasing it trivial, and it clinked beneath you both as you left it undone to fumble for the button at her pants. Unbuttoned and unzipped, her pants lay open and free for you to graze fingertips at the waistband of her boxer briefs. You glanced down. A subtle bulge hidden beneath dark grey.
A cold, metal hand teased your waist, found purchase at the small of your back, spurring you on. From her waistband, your touch rose up her lower abs, pressed against them to coax the slight give and jerk of her muscles. She was solid underneath you, honed and sculpted like an athlete carved out of Pentelic marble. You rebuffed any muttered insult of her being a brute. She wasn't, far from it. Mixed martial arts and boxing kept her in shape, but her intimidating size and strength only belied her gentleness with you behind closed doors. Besides, would a brute have enough patience and self-control to handle the pressure of being Silco's right hand? The weight of being heir to the metaphorical throne?
Sevika flicked her tongue over the corner of her top lip when you feathered the dark hair that vanished into her boxers. Your final descent brushed over that trail, crept over the bulge at the apex of her thighs. The metal hand at your back pulled you closer. Sevika lowered her head to rest at your shoulder and you caught the tail end of a guttural groan at your ministrations.
She inhaled. Deeply. Her lips latched to the juncture of your jaw and neck. Her rumble deepened, hips angled into your touch.
"Cariño…"
It was your turn to smile. You knew where to touch and prod, the correct tempo and intensity to render Sevika putty in your hands. She melted when you tugged at silky, black hair. Let her lips part and drag across your cheek until they met with yours. It was cute how hard she tried to reel it in and keep her control, how hard she tried to stifle the jerk of her hips. You congratulated yourself for the effort… until she spoke against your lips to render your work undone.
"Turn around for me?"
Tone relayed the intended message. It sent a shiver crackling up your spine that halted your movements. Surprise quickly morphed into latent arousal. Why keep her waiting when you could smell the direction this was turning?
Her grip loosened enough for you to adjust yourself. You turned, slowly, and faced the mirror to watch her rise to her full height behind you. Sevika held several inches over most human men in Zaun and a full head over you. The toughest men who frequented The Last Drop tucked their tails at her size and strength. With you? She was as harmless and cuddly as a teddy bear. And she proved as much when she wrapped her arms around you and squeezed for good measure.
She buried her nose into the crook of your neck and shoulder, planted open-mouthed kisses up the side of your neck and into your jawline. In pure Sevika fashion, she tipped your jaw to give herself more access to the column of your throat. You couldn't help the giggles that fell from your lips, and she followed suit with a few chuckles of her own.
Any words you would have spoken were lost in a whispered sigh as she nuzzled right against your ear and spoke. "Been missin’ you all night."
And your heart somersaulted out of its cage.
Your eyes caught Sevika's in the mirror—predatory, wolf-like—irises pushed to the edges by pupils blown wide. She stared back at you. Mischief brewed underneath as the corner of her mouth tweaked upwards. She pulled you in closer, ran her full lips up the nape of your neck.
"Tell me again where you want my hands, beautiful."
Fuck, her voice. Like a growl soaked in arousal. You shifted, aiming to turn around but she kept you in place. All you wanted was to steal her breath from her lungs, make her speak those words again into your mouth. Consume every consonant and vowel as sustenance.
Her hands roamed and if you didn't give her an answer, she'd probably decide for you. So, you dredged up your earlier conversation and relayed it back to her.
"My… my mouth."
"Yeah?"
You nodded pathetically. She obliged.
Her left arm stayed wrapped around your waist. She brought her right hand up to lift your chin. Examined you in the mirror, turned your head this way and that like she was contemplating what to do with you. Finally, she tutted and smiled.
"Such a pretty girl." She thumbed your bottom lip and you flicked your tongue out to graze it. She didn't mind in the slightest, even encouraged it by dipping in to brush the inside of your lip. When you wrapped your lips around her thumb, she allowed you for all of ten seconds before removing it and painting your chin with your saliva. "With a pretty fucking mouth, too. Don't you think?"
Another nod, and she nipped the shell of your ear.
"I wanna hear you say it, baby. Tell me." She squeezed you gently for emphasis.
You sighed, cheeks flaring with the words floating in your mind. "I… I have a pretty fucking mouth."
Sevika snickers and kisses you in three places. Lightning bolts on inflamed skin. "Good girl. Now, open." Her fingers slid across your lips, waiting for the access that you granted immediately.
Her index and middle split in your mouth, taking residence on either side of your tongue. You teased between both before running up the middle finger. You swirled it left, pulled it center, sucked it like your life depended on it. You repeated the same for her index. Her fingers were devoid of any distinct flavor, but if you thought hard enough, you feigned the savor of your dripping cunt from memory alone.
You sucked and sucked and sucked on her fingers, bobbing slowly as you maintained eye contact with the owner of the wolfish grin in the mirror. One draw of her fingers withdrew them far enough to let your saliva dribble down your lip and chin. You cleaned up as much as you could, but the rest streaked and smeared as Sevika removed herself completely to cup your chin, then your cheeks.
That same hand made the agonizing trip down your neck and chest to graze over your pert nipples peeking through the large shirt. The breath you inhaled made her stop, and her stopping made you whine in protest.
"Think I remember you wanted my hands on your tits. That true?"
While your head was swimming through the heady haze of arousal, you'd have been remiss to not notice both her hands at the hem of your shirt easing their way up. Each second she waited for a response made the trip more leisurely. Typical Sevika behavior. She was a master of drawing pleasure out until the last second—the true embodiment of the virtue of patience despite how many vices she indulged on the regular.
Once more, an eager nod didn't satisfy her.
"Use your words, baby."
"Y-Yes, I want your hands on my tits. Mmm… all over them…"
Sevika flashed you a quick smile before she peppered four kisses from your neck up to your cheek. The last she released slowly, letting her lips linger hot on your skin. Her nose feathered across your cheek, ghosted your earlobe. She kept silent, but her gaze followed her hands as they raised your shirt.
Slowly.
“Arms up,” she said.
You obeyed. Up, up, up the shirt rose. It stopped right over your face, and Sevika held you there with your arms raised for several seconds before you caught on to her game and hip checked her. She laughed at you when you cussed at her, but once the shirt was tossed aside, Sevika was free to fully engulf your breasts in each hand. Her hands were big; you placed your own over hers and relished at the difference in size. A groan roiled in the pit of your chest only to ease up and drift from your lips as a breathy sigh.
She massaged them, kneaded them, rolled them under strong hands. Her fingers, still damp and drying from your mouth, tweaked and tugged your nipples. The motion and temperature difference had you choking out a moan, and you felt it like a bolt of lightning from your cunt to the soles of your feet.
Her bulge pressed right against your ass. You pushed and grinded back into her to elicit a low groan. Not a full-size dildo or even a pack-and-play from what you could decipher, but the friction still felt fucking amazing.
"Feel good, babe?" She pulled your earlobe with her teeth, and with it, a strained moan from your throat. "You're lucky," she began. You protested when her claws left your breast and descended to squeeze your supple ass. "You're lucky it's late and I'm tired.” With her hand at the back of your neck, she bent you forward until your cheek lay flat against the cold marble counter. She flicked her tongue out against your tailbone, then the dimples in your back. Licked an unwavering trail up your spine until she reached your nape. The shiver she coaxed from you was delicious but didn’t hold a flame to the words she purred in your ear. “Or else I'd fuck you silly. Tear your little ass apart." She could be so much dirtier, so much kinkier. This? It was light work, and it still made you gush between your thighs.
No manner of struggling or rolling your hips made Sevika let up. But you still played along.
"Good thing… you don't need a strap for that."
"Oh yeah?" You felt Sevika's smirk grow from her place at your neck. "What else should I use?" She lifted you, gave you a quick swat on the ass—you flinched—before tugging at your breast again. She rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger then repeated the same motion with the opposite hand, making your toes curl.
You cursed yourself for being so fucking sensitive. Sevika had learned of it after your first night together and had been exploiting it ever since. With enough attention, it wasn’t impossible to make you come from nipple play alone. Janna knows she’d done it before and then laughed at you afterwards. Called you cute.
Whether she aimed to elicit another slew of moans from you, or make it difficult for you to answer properly, you didn't know, but she was successful regardless.
"Mm… your fuuu….f-fin….fuck…"
"My what? Speak up, baby girl."
"Fuck off, Sev. Your fingers. I want your fucking fingers inside me."
You let her tweak your nipple one final time before you grasped the back of her large hand, intertwining your fingers. She didn't resist, let you guide her hand slowly but surely down your ribs. Under your guidance, her touch remained gentle with a rebellious edge as she scored your heated skin with blunt nails. She pinched at your hip bone as you passed, then reached to trace the ring of your belly button before stopping briefly at the waistband of the underwear.
With one snap of the band with her thumb, you brought her hand lower and gasped when her fingers weaved through the hair on your mound. You squeezed it in your claw grip. Grinded against her again.
"I’ve barely touched you and you’re already writhing under me," Sevika whispered.
Well, she was right. You'd been so pent up and eager the whole night, a simple ghost of her fingers right where you needed her drove you wild. All the hours of waiting and you'd finally get closer to release. The grand question was… how quickly would she let you?
Sevika was notorious for her antics. Begging on your knees? She had you covered. Servicing her first and thanking her for it? A favorite of hers. Worshipping every inch of your body under honeyed words and praise? You never minded waiting there. Patience above all was rewarded, but she still made the experience enjoyable along the way. Which route she'd explore today was still undetermined, even with the familiar mischievous glint in her eyes.
No amount of grinding or snapping the waistband of her boxers made her budge. Instead, you earned a smirk and playful tug of your left nipple. You pouted.
She moved an inch lower to appease you, kneaded your left breast again for good measure. The motion kept you at attention, pliable and eager to please, to do whatever needed to get what you so desperately desired. You shot Sevika a glance that would have put your own hounds to shame.
"Look at my pretty girl. Can't wait to get fucked, can she? What’s the magic word, sweetness?"
Your heart rate spiked right as your belly backflipped. Embarrassment shouldn’t have crept up given how many fucking times you both have done this.
And yet…
“Please?” you said, supplementing with a slow roll of your hips. “Please, Daddy Bear?”
Well, any amount of embarrassment was worth the tremor that vibrated through your lover. It was cute how she couldn’t fully contain her excitement when her sadistic side poked its head out to play.
"Good girl. Let go."
You gave her blazing hand one final squeeze before you did.
Sevika inhaled at your hairline and planted open-mouthed kisses from neck to ear. The shudder in her breaths was evident enough that she wanted to drive further, deeper. She was losing herself, relinquishing her mastery of control. "I want to hear you choke on my fingers, baby. Can you do that for me?"
You nodded. "Mhm…"
"Good. Now, open your mouth."
You obeyed, stuck your tongue out for good measure.
Sevika traced the curve of your chin and jaw, then your top lip until she rested on your bottom. She caressed the center right under the tip of your tongue. "Get my fingers nice and wet, and then I'll give you what you want. Deal?"
“Mhmm…” You accepted her first offered digit between your lips to suck on. She let you control the pace, allowed you to grab her flesh hand in yours to worship and savor at your leisure. You rolled your tongue around it again, working arduously to cover every inch in your saliva.
When you were ready, you added a second, her ring finger. It reached the back of your tongue with ease, and the thought of how trivial it would be to gag on it made you throb between your thighs. But you weren't ready. Not yet. With both in your mouth, you set them on your tongue and began to suck them off.
In.
Rest.
Out.
In
Rest.
Out.
You repeated the motion, eyes half-lidded as you savored the moment. You sucked her fingers like you would her strap, albeit a much easier experience, but erotic nonetheless. Unlike her strap, there wasn't enough girth to stretch your lips or ache your jaw. Not enough length to tickle the back of your throat into gagging too hard. But you still took her all the way, and when she hit the back of your tongue, you coughed and choked and opened your watering eyes to cherish your girlfriend's reactions.
An excited tremble shook through Sevika, rocking you. She fixated on your mouth and the saliva that dripped down your chin as she removed her hand. "Fuck…" She took one swipe over your bottom lip—admired it—before dipping into your underwear.
The two soaked digits glided on either side of your clit. The temperature and texture difference forced your head back onto her shoulder with a loud gasping moan. Just like her virtue, her strokes were resolute, every one aiming to make you feel it from top to bottom.
Sevika never disappointed. For all the times she enjoyed watching and hearing you beg, she loved giving you a full body experience to make up for the wait. While she worked her fingers, she pressed herself into you. She worked her claws up your body—cold metal on burning flesh—until she reached and tugged on your nipple again. Her breath tickled your earlobe as she alternated between nips and featherlight kisses trailing to your collar. Abandoned your clit to tease a ring around your entrance.
"That feel good?" she asked.
Dragging the response from your brain proved more tedious than you imagined. You pushed past the mental haze, swam past the dark cloud until you found the words you were looking for.
"Mhm… y-yeah. Yeah… it feels so good…"
“Hahaha… here." She snatched her hand away and you whined as she painted your lips with your own slick. "Taste."
You pulled her soaked fingers into your mouth, lapping at the lingering juice extracted from her tease and craving more.
You stole her hand and guided it back into your underwear, back to sliding around your clit. "Vika…" you whined.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Want your fingers in me, bear… Want 'em deep."
There was no shame in the request, even if your cheeks burned brightly. But you did shudder at Sevika's rumbling laugh behind you. Hissed at her teasing loop around your entrance.
"Want 'em deep, hmm?" she mimicked. Her words lingered, clung to the air like the Zaun Gray as she finally, finally pushed one finger past the threshold into you.
A gentle "fuck" dribbled past your lips. You ground your head harder into her shoulder as you shut your eyes to the world, hellbent on focusing solely on the sensations she gifted you.
Sevika plunged as deeply as she could. Slow motions, in and out, with a curling caress against your soft and sensitive front wall. Then stopped to let you accommodate. Her claws grazed your ribs and under your breast once more before settling at your neck.
Your spine straightened, eyes flew open as she tapped your jugular. Your attention locked with hers.
"You still with me?"
The implication was clear. Sevika loved to be rough and push your limits, and you were more than willing to bend and test them under her watchful guard. Two years together was enough to solidify a clear communication base, but you didn't progress this far without a great deal of understanding and patience. She was surprisingly a good listener, which, in retrospect, shouldn't have been surprising given her line of work. Credit where credit was due, of course.
Finally, you sighed your agreement and braced yourself for the oncoming crescendo.
Sevika retracted her finger to add a second to the mix. She inserted, slowly, sheathed both inside you like a deadly weapon. Large fingers stretched you in that way you loved so much, and she muffled your oncoming moan with her own lips and tongue.
The fog that muddled your brain thickened by the second. Your focus darted everywhere, trying desperately to keep up with every angle of pleasure she massaged your senses with.
Her claws set firmly in place on your neck. Tapped there again in rhythm. Made you acknowledge their presence. She tutted when you arched against her to coax her plan into motion.
"Deja de moverte. Be still." Her index traced down the column of your throat, bobbed under your careful swallow. If you hadn't known her as long as you had, it would have felt like a threat. Instead, it was a warning, a safety precaution.
You stilled, relaxed, and breathed evenly, counting in your head like she taught you.
She pumped once, a test.
Paused.
Another, and Janna, it was difficult not to fidget.
A third, and she open-kissed the corner of your jaw for passing. She kept her pace slow and put pressure on the arteries, leaving your throat and breathing free.
Your pulse thumped against her metal palm. The restricted blood flow intensified every other sensation, had your eyes fluttering. You rasped. The abyss lingered at the very edge of your consciousness, and you wanted to go deeper, sink further, play chicken with it…
Fuck.
Fuck…
But Sevika pulled you out as quickly as you dipped in.
You mourned the loss, but knew it was for the best. Sevika knew it was for the best.
"Good girl," she cooed in your ear, then turned your head back to the mirror. "Look at you, sweetness. My pretty girl."
You gazed in the mirror to stare at the absolutely fucked-out figure in your girlfriend's arms. Half-lidded eyes and parted lips meshed well with erect nipples and crimson marks painting a beautiful and exposed neck. The heady redolence of sex wafted in the air. With your underwear lowered, Sevika's fingers plunged in and out of a pussy glistening with slick. Every thrust filled your ears with the gushing sounds of your juices soaking her fingers.
Your juices.
You were acutely aware it was you in the mirror. Aware of the high you got from the deadly, metal hand at your neck. Aware that your essence remained coated on your tongue. Aware that she fucked you in all primal senses until they dulled.
Blood pounded your ears.
She thrusted.
Heart rammed against your ribcage.
She thrusted.
"Vika…" you moaned. "Se-Sevikaaa…"
You buried your nose into her collar and your world went dark as your hips gyrated into her fingers and into her body. Your orgasm rolled through you like a wave, ebbing and flowing with Sevika's slowing thrusts, every jerk a splash against her. The mantra of her name on your lips broke down to a whispering prayer. She murmured against your temple, gentle words you couldn't fully comprehend with your mind still rattled.
Ragged breaths escaped from your lungs. Your legs wobbled even with Sevika holding you up with her metal arm. And Janna, were you hot. Despite feeling like you’d just sprinted a marathon, the blissfulness was unmatched.
"You okay, sweetheart?" she asked, then her voice dropped. "Or did I fuck you too good?"
You cradled her left arm—a nice chill for your burning skin—with your laugh rolling right into a satisfied purr. She wasn't wrong; even with her fingers she fucked you well into another dimension and it took at least a full minute before your awareness returned. Sevika was still very much buried inside you, unmoving, but still there.
And it felt… good.
She must have been thinking the same as she adjusted and kissed behind your ear. "Gonna pull out now."
And when she did, carefully, you winced and jerked against her. But you stopped her. Her eyebrow rose at you in the mirror, and you quelled her questions when you took those two fingers into your mouth.
"Fuck…" Sevika's claws dug at your hip as she stared at you like Janna herself made her ethereal presence known to the world. She was awestruck watching you clean her hand of your essence. Hungry. Feral. Predatory glint in her wolf-grey eyes.
She spun you around and after a few quick glances at your lips, leaned in to capture them in hers. The usual spark and dominance showed in her aggression—teeth clicked against yours, deft tongue eager to taste and explore your mouth for the umpteenth time. It dizzied you, made it hard to breathe. You shivered as cool metal waltzed down your back, and you retaliated with a prance up her abs.
Sevika flexed under you, rock solid, before she pulled away and stared at you with blown pupils. She tilted your chin up, holding you in place to command your attention, then licked her full lips.
"You taste so fucking good," she whispers.
You locked eyes with her. Experience told you everything she wanted to do to you. How she desired to bend and mold your body, stretch and push you to your limits, savor every bite like a last meal at Stillwater. You melted under her watchful eyes. All you had for her was a smile, and she mirrored it with a wolfish smirk of her own. You seized the moment and moved from her abs to sternum. The thump-thumping of her heart slowed, adrenaline and lust finally wearing off as she knocked her forehead against yours. You inhaled, the lingering base note of her cologne recentering you and pulling your focus back.
"Look at you. So fucking pretty," she said.
Even with your own essence spread across your lips, your knees buckling under her, your eyes half-lidded and dazed, she still gazed at you like you were the most beautiful specimen in all of Runeterra.
"You're such a good girl, you know that?" She released your chin to knock a strand of hair out of your face. "Don't you ever forget it."
You knew what you meant to her, inside and outside the bedroom, but you would never grow tired of hearing her say it.
"Do you understand me?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Daddy."
She gave you two quick pecks followed by a final and more passionate third. And just like that you both relinquished your roles to pick up again another day.
"Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sevika caressed your cheek with her knuckles. “Ready for a shower?"
You shook your head. "In the morning? Took one earlier. Don't feel like it. Also don't think I can stand much longer."
That was all fine with Sevika. She hoisted you onto the counter, asked you to wait, and sauntered off into the bedroom.
The high was finally starting to wear off as you leaned against the bathroom counter, replaced with the occasional brush with darkness. The ghost of Sevika's fingers still remained buried in your cunt—a nice stretch that left a delicious throb and ache in its wake. Wet stickiness between your thighs had you rubbing them together. You could only imagine how great Sevika's tongue would have felt if either of you were up for it.
Eventually, she returned in sweatpants and her sports bra with a washcloth she pulled from the linen closet.
"Hey," she said, lifting your chin gently. "Sleepy already?" Her lip twitched at what you assumed was an oncoming smirk but it never came to light. Your attention wavered and those were the last words you were able to decipher.
Sevika chuckled to herself.
With the mess between your legs cleaned and dried, Sevika flung your arms around her neck. The bathroom light flickered off and you floated to the bedroom and drifted down to the bed.
Sevika stretching over you was the last thing you saw before the bedroom was plunged into darkness.
------
Sudden rhythmic caresses across your ass and thigh stirred you from sleep. Distant cerulean lights sliced through pitch black, left splatters on the far wall. Heartbeats rocked beneath your cheek in tandem with the rise and fall of the strong, bare chest beneath you.
When the motions stopped, you drifted again, struggling to fight sleep until a light buzz startled you alert.
Worry set in at the annoyed and familiar ursine grumble. The hand left you to snatch the phone off the nightstand. It only took five seconds before your girlfriend set it back down and shifted under you.
Immediately, you felt your time together was over. Early texts usually meant last minute shipping manifests. And shipping manifests meant the rare days where Sevika left you in bed alone. Instinct took over and you straddled the body under you, hands planted on her muscular chest to keep her in place.
Sevika rose to her elbows. "What's up, sweetness? You okay?"
You could have laughed. Typical Sevika, overly worried about you while her sleepy, husky voice lit a small fire in your loins. You made a valiant attempt to stamp it down.
"¿Cariño?"
You reached out slowly. Traced down the soft curves of her angular face—forehead to nose, lips to chin—then cupped her cheek. You rested your own forehead against hers.
Neither of you spoke. Didn't need to. Your worry was evident but Sevika snorted. Her sigh tickled your cheek and lips. She peppered lazy kisses across your jaw, down the column of your neck, and back up to rest on your lips.
Simple reassurance.
Metal and flesh engulfed you and pulled you close until you settled your head back home on her chest. Warm fingertips traced the ridges of your spine—down, down, down—back to cup your ass and the back of your thigh.
"Just a reminder text from Ran. Still gotta be up in seven hours." Her voice deepened, a still-sleepy-growling-purr that rolled a shiver up your spine. "After we're done, I'm all yours."
You knew from experience and the nature of Sevika's line of work that she couldn't promise that. Still, her word was as good as gold. Phone communication could only tide you over for so long after a long and stressful week. You drifted off, mumbling to yourself and Sevika about how thankful you were to finally have time together.
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fucknixx · 2 months
Note
hi love!! could u maybe write some morning sex + aftercare hcs with newt in the glade?
Hello angel! Thanks for the request, here it is. I hope you liked it and that it was what you wanted. I want to clarify that this is the first time I have written something about aftercare.
Tw:: Suggestive language, smut.
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✿ ۪⋆ Morning sex
— Good morning sex with Newt, he would try to be gentle at first since you weren't 100% awake, but then, ugh- Get ready to have a long morning of screaming.
— He would whisper compliments to you while leaving kisses all over your neck.
— "You're perfect." "My love."
— If you start, he doesn't mind you taking control, but he's too proud to say so.
— He would smile every time I heard you moan his name.
— He would try all possible positions.
— But if both of you are still dreaming, you would try cockwarming.
— And when they were finished, he would cum on your belly, while he watches how it stays there and accumulates in your navel.
— In moments he would give you light kisses pressed to your knuckles.
— He would use his accent on purpose.
— At first, he would make you kneel and order you to give him a good blowjob.
— He has his moments when he praises you a lot.
—When they are more awake… It would suffocate you a little, but not too much, it is gentle, but it also depends on how you wake up.
— If he wakes up with a good attitude, he will be so cute, kissing your body, face or body while he fucks you.
— "Do you like it like this, my love?" "Ask what you want."
— But, oh if he wakes up in a bad mood, ah… He's harder than normal when it comes to fucking you, what matters to him at that moment is his pleasure and getting rid of that mood.
— "All mine. Say, Whose are you?" "You're being a good girl for me."
— And if he has in mind that he has to get up and start his homework, but he can't help it, also if you try to tell him he will respond with "Alby is there too, he can do mine."
✿ ۪⋆ Aftercare
— He would lie down next to you and cling to you to finish.
— It's just that if he's hugging you, it makes him forget everything.
— If you fall asleep, It's when he knows he has to get up and change to start his duties, and if they ask about you he would say an excuse.
— Or if they had something soft, I'd bring you breakfast in bed.
— He would worry if something would hurt you, and obviously he would come to see you when he can.
— He can't miss his kisses, he would kiss you on the forehead saying "You did great, my love."
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Note
How would the kind of Baharuth and other humans character of choice meeting Madam butterfly reader?
The sister of the sorcerer king, the demoness who is powerful enough that she killed few SS class fighters and heros with bearly a struggle, even her many children she adopted are strong in their own rights base on reports of an attack of a different kingdom that she leveled and restructure the system in a matter of one year, she is scary but she is fair, and talked casually with the king as they talked about trading
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Meeting Humans | Yandere Overlord x Madam Butterfly Sister Reader
More than likely they’re meeting you on the same terms as Ainz. Usually on your throne or in a political discussion between leaders. The only difference from your brother is your closeness to humanity as well as your motherly instinct. Which makes you a prime target for the human’s mommy obsession:
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Jircniv Farlord El Nix 
“(Y-y/n)-sama! I- i give you free reign–No! I give you everything i have!” 
He’s torn between horrified and absolutely enamored
While he attributes the knowledge of his…failed attempts to both of you
He feels as though you're the most sympathetic 
And he can’t help but be completely obsessed with your validation
He may very well start a religion for you 
He might add Ainz for good measure but that’s not whose status he’s having built in his private quarters
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Enri Enmot
“Alright! Heave Ho Boys! Who’re we doing this for!?”
“(Y/N)-SAMA!”
“That’s right!” 
Similarly, she has a religion that starts around worshipping you
Now she’d do the same for Ainz no she wouldn’t+
If it weren’t for the goblins' and the villager’s insistence
Who told them to practice that?!
She love love loves you 
And she greatly values any attention you give her 
Even hesitating to wash her head after you patted her
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mads-weasley · 2 years
Text
Here With You
Lewis Nixon x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: Hey y'all! I've never written for Nix, but I wanted to try, so here it is! I hope you enjoy it! I do not own any of the rights to these characters.
Summary: During the liberation of Eindhoven, (y/n) and Lew finally share a sweet moment, but it is soon shattered by a drunken local with one thing on his mind.
Warnings: attempted assault, mentions of blood, fighting
(y/h/c) - your hair color
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September 1944
The streets of Eindhoven were filled with celebrating Dutch, bright orange flags waving from every window. (Y/n) couldn't help but smile at the sight of a people who were under oppression for so long becoming a free town once again.
As she walked through the happy mob, she made sure to stay right with Lew and Dick.
"Can you believe this?" Nixon asked, looking around them in awe.
She smiled up at her husband. "It's crazy. I know."
Taking her hand, he sent a smirk her way, knowing no one would notice the couple amongst the chaos of the celebration.
Their intelligence had suggested that the Netherlands and Holland were nothing but old men and kids, but they were all wary to accept that. Once they were there, though, the men let their guards down and enjoyed the festivities the town provided.
Pushing through the crowds, people grabbed at them and kissed her cheek. A few even tried to kiss her straight on the lips but she managed to swerve them in time. She rolled her eyes and swatted Nix's arm when he whispered, "Is it my turn for a kiss?"
A few minutes later, a few children came running up to her, attaching themselves to her legs. They couldn't have been more than 5 years old. Dropping Lewis' hand, she crouched in front of them. Their wide toothy grins brought a wide smile to her face.
"Hi, there. My name is (y/n)."
Not responding, one of them reached out and gently pulled on her dog tags, while another pointed at her American flag patch.
"I'm an American soldier."
"Amer-can?" A small blonde boy asked, thick with his accent.
"Yes!" She exclaimed. "American."
Beaming, he put his hand up to his chest. "Finn."
"Hi, Finn," (y/n) whispered, holding out her hand to shake his tiny one.
Little did she know that above her, Nixon was watching on with soft eyes at the interaction. Watching her with the children warmed his heart to no end, and those moments were rare now that they were at war. When they did happen, most of the time they were because of his loving wife.
Even though he was standing in a crowd of people, he felt as if he, (y/n), and the kid were the only ones there. He couldn't help thinking back to the first time something like that had happened; when the world stopped spinning. It was the first time he'd laid eyes on her, and he would never forget it.
1939
"Dad, can I please just skip out on one party? I've been to too many. They're all the same. Ever-" A 21-year-old Lewis Nixon pleaded as he fixed his tie in the mirror.
His father wouldn't budge, as usual. "No. You're going. End of discussion."
With a sigh, Lewis finished getting ready, buttoning up his suit as his sister, Blanche walked into the room, flopping dramatically on his bed.
"I refuse to go to another party where creepy old men try to flirt with me, Lew. I just can't do it."
He turned around from the mirror. "Me, too. I hate talking to a bunch of rich old jerks-"
"Like father," she interrupted.
"Yes, like father."
Their mother's voice made an appearance as she walked into the room. "You two need to give this party a chance. You never know, maybe this one could be different."
"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," he snarked.
A few hours later, Lewis Nixon sure did believe it after seeing a beautiful girl walk down the staircase in a bright royal blue dress, her curled (y/h/c) hair cascading down her back. At that moment, everything stopped. What the man beside him was saying became background noise as he only focused on her.
As she reached the bottom of the steps, she was met with Blanche, who smiled and embraced her. When she returned the smile, the boy lost his breath.
Without taking his eyes off her, he stopped their butler as he passed.
"Who is that?" He questioned breathlessly.
Following Nix's eyes, he smiled. "(Y/n) (y/l/n). She doesn't have a date, either, sir."
Breaking his trance, Lew nodded thanks at the man before walking over to the two girls. On the way, he passed a waiter, quickly grabbing two glasses of champagne from his tray.
"Hello ladies," he greeted cooly.
Blanche didn't spare him a glance. "Hey, Lew."
Looking over at (y/n), he held out his hand. "Lewis Nixon. And what would your name be?"
Grinning, she took his hand but let out a surprised laugh when he brought it up to his lips. "So you're one of those guys, huh?"
"And what type of guy is that?" He asked, intrigued.
She glanced down at the extra glass of champagne in his hand, raising an eyebrow. "The rich, cool, Ivy League student who thinks they can get any girl they want by flashing a smile and bringing a glass of champagne. I bet you live for parties like this to show off your status."
Blanche laughed hysterically, champagne almost spewing from her nose. She cursed as she spilled some on her dress.
"I'll be back", she muttered, heading towards the bathroom.
Turning his attention back on (y/n), Lewis downed the extra champagne glass in one gulp. "Alright. That statement is only half correct."
"Okay, what's not right, then?"
"Yes, I'm a rich, Ivy Leaguer. No, this champagne was not for you-"
(Y/n) chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Yeah right."
"And I actually hate these parties with everything in me."
"I somehow find that hard to believe, Mr. Nixon."
"Lewis, please. And when you've grown up being forced to go to these things, trying to fit into the high-class society gets tiring, and frankly, I wish I wasn't even associated with it whatsoever."
Seeing the serious expression in his eyes, she believed him. Something about him was different. Maybe her assumptions were wrong after all.
"You are something else, Lewis." She chimed, walking away from him. "I hope I'll see you around. And if not, you can ask Blanche where to find me."
Lew ran a hand through his hair, sighing at the interaction. "Oh boy. I'm in trouble." He whispered to himself, drinking the other glass of champagne in his hand.
Present Day - 1944
He's dragged out of his thoughts by Harry asking him something.
"What?"
"I said, we should get moving."
Nix nodded, squatting next to (y/n). "Hey, sweetheart. I'm sorry but we've gotta get a move on."
"Okay," she sighed, saying goodbye to the children who threw their small arms around her.
As they walked further into the town, Lew had a hand gently placed on the small of her back, leading her through the crowd. Suddenly, two girls barreled past (y/n) and threw themselves onto Lewis, who shrunk back from the women, trying to get away. Laughing, (y/n) grabbed his hand and pulled him away from them.
She looked up at him as if to say something but was cut off by his lips crashing against hers. Pulling away, she quickly looked around them, not seeing any Easy Company men watching. In fact, the only one she saw was Talbert, and his attention was fully captured by the girl he was making out with.
"Lewis Nixon. What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm kissing my wife."
"As much as I wish we could, the men can't know."
"Why not?" He challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Why can't they?"
"Because..."
"Exactly! You can't even come up with a reason. We kept it secret in the first place so that it wouldn't cause trouble with Sobel in basic, but now that we're over here, so why not?"
Mulling it over in her head, the young woman couldn't find anything wrong with his plan.
Instead of answering him, she pulled him down by his collar and kissed him roughly. Once out of breath, she pressed her forehead against his. "Yeah. Let em' find out, Lew."
The sweet moment soon ended as Harry pushed past them, grumbling. "Alright. We get it. You two are so in love. Yay for us."
Following him to the other officers, the couple held hands once again. "You're telling me that if Kitty was here, you wouldn't be doing the same thing?" (Y/n) asked, trying to suppress a laugh.
Before he could respond, Buck walked up to the group as they found Winters. "What's up, Welshy?" The blonde asked cheerily.
Harry flipped up his collar with a scowl, looking at (y/n). "Snipers."
She couldn't resist the laugh that bubbled up her throat as she flipped her collar, covering her lieutenant bars.
"We've got to get to these bridges," Dick stated, turning to (y/n), Buck, and Harry. "Round up the men."
With a nod, she started to walk away her arm was caught by Nix.
"Where are you going?" He asked, concern filling his eyes.
She sighed lightly and rubbed his arm, wanting to avoid the overprotective side of her husband. "You heard Dick. I'm getting my men."
"Okay. Please be careful, alright?" He whispered, caressing her cheek softly.
Walking away, she winked at him. "I will be, Lew. Don't worry."
Nix watched her smaller form disappear into the crowd, turning to Dick while shaking his head. "That woman will be the death of me."
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As (y/n) pushed through the celebrating crowd once again, her eyes searches for the familiar screeching eagle patch on her men's uniforms. Just as she saw Liebgott in the distance, a rough pull of her hand had her reeling backward, falling into the chest of someone. Whipping around to face them, she discovered it was a man a little bit older than her with a devilish grin aimed right at her. Instantly, she tried to pull away from the hold he had on her arm.
"Let go," she demanded calmly, raising her left hand to show the ring on her finger. "I'm married."
He jerked her closer to him, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Jammer dat je man niet hier is om te kijken wat ik met je ga doen, meid."
(Y/n) didn't have to understand Dutch for her to get the message as he moved his other hand to grab her butt, pulling her flush against his chest.
"I said let go!" She yelled, thrashing around, trying to get away. His grip only tightened as he angrily let go for a split second and raised his hand to strike her. (Y/n) heard it before she felt it. The loud smacking sound stunned her and was soon followed by a burning sensation radiating from her cheek as the taste of copper filled her mouth.
The man used her shock as an opportunity, smashing his lips to hers. Realizing what was happening, she sealed her lips closed, quickly pulling as far as she could from the man.
Suddenly she reared her head back before slamming it into the man's nose. His hold on her disappeared as he stumbled back, clutching his bloody nose. (Y/n) could see the anger radiating off him as she tried to escape into the crowd.
"Jij amerikaanse teef!" He seethed, following her through the crowd.
Out of breath, she frantically looked for any of her fellow soldiers once again. Tears filled her eyes when she saw an all too familiar head of dark hair sitting in a chair a few feet in front of her.
"Lew!" She cried, glancing over her shoulder at the man who was gaining on her. "Lewis!"
As soon as her desperate cry left her lips, he bolted up from his chair, turning to where the sound came from. The second he saw her terrified expression, he ran to meet her. Just as he was about to bring her into his arms, she yelped, being dragged out of reach by her hair.
"Hey! Let her go!" Nix barked athoritatively, quickly stepping forward and taking a swing at the man.
Being heavily drunk, he didn't have fast enough reflexes to dodge the punch in time. Lewis' fist slammed against the man's jaw with a satisfying crack. Instantly letting go of (y/n), the dutch man wobbled on his feet for a moment, before falling to the ground in a heap.
Nix thought his head was going to explode with rage. He wanted to beat this man to a pulp for what he'd evidently done to (y/n). Moving to crouch over the man do to just that, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Dick pulled him back, motioning over to (y/n)'s shaking figure.
"Go help (y/n). She needs you. I'll take care of this." He said lowly.
With a nod, Lew looked over at her and their eyes met. His heart broke at the sight of (y/n)'s face. Tears brimmed her waterline and blood slowly dripped from her lower lip. The worst part was the bright red handprint on her left cheek that infuriated him more than anything before. Rushing over, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her hair lovingly.
“Breathe, darling,” he murmured, fighting off tears of his own. "You're safe, now."
He looked around and found an empty restaurant on the corner. Leading her to the secluded area, he kept a strong arm around her, worried she would fall without it.
Once inside, he sat her down on a chair and pulled another one next to it. Her head was tilted down, facing the floor as she replayed the last few moments in her mind.
She was brought out of her thoughts by her husband's soft touch under her chin, lifting it to face him. Her tears had not yet fallen, and Nix knew she was trying to stay strong.
"It's okay to cry, honey," he whispered, cupping her cheek softly.
At his words, she let out a quiet sob as the tears slipped down her cheeks. He just pulled her closer, allowing her to bury her face into his neck.
"I'm so sorry, Lew. I-I didn't-," she cried, pulling back to look at his concerned face, which quickly morphed into a confused expression.
Nixon's heart broke at her tear-stained cheeks. "You didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing to apologize for," he said softly.
"But I could've fought harde-"
"No," he interrupted. "Do not say that. You did everything you could."
She shot up out of his arms and on her feet, throwing her hands up, shouting. "If I can't even fight off some drunk civilian, how am I supposed to fight in this war against trained German soldiers?"
Nix rose to his feet. "It wasn't your fault, (y/n)!"
"Lewis, I shouldn't be here. I should be-"
"None of us should be here! Half of our men should still be in school, and the other half should be with their families!" He paused, eyes beginning to burn. "W-We should be at home raising a family, not here in Europe fighting, but we are, and nothing we can say is going to change that."
After a few moments of silence, (y/n) walked towards the man, slowly pulling him into a hug.
"Thank you for saving me, Lew," she whispered, voice thick with emotion.
He sighed, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "Of course. Always remember I'm here. Wherever you go-"
"I go," she finished, leaning back and cupping his cheek with one hand. "I love you."
"I love you, too, sweetheart."
He then connected their lips softly, wrapping his arms around her waist when the doors flew open.
"Sir-oh. Sorry for the interruption, uh Lieutenants." Talbert sputtered, wide-eyed.
Parting slowly, Nix groaned as he and (y/n) walked past Tab.
"Can't I get 5 minutes with my wife, for pete's sake," he muttered.
Floyd stood there shocked, and (y/n) chuckled under her breath as they walked back onto the street. When felt a warm hand enclose hers, she knew she would be okay. She also knew that by the end of the day, their secret wouldn't be a secret anymore, and she was perfectly fine with that.
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Tag List:
@typical-simplelove @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs
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iseebeautyinwords · 1 year
Text
dating the ri’s | shuri udaku, riri williams , shuriri
summery : just some shuriri hc’s!
taglist : @pinkwright @inmyheadimobsessed @zayswriting @quintessencewrites comment to be added :)
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shuri udaku : ☆
you guys are dating before you even know it
she loves parading you around as her girl
matches with you subtly, like with nails, outfit colors stuff like that
i alr said this but imma say it again SHE BITES
like for no good reason shell wake you up by biting your nose. you kissing and all of the sudden shes biting your lip.
she thinks she’s sooo funny when she annoys you
loves spoiling you and loves being spoiled too
def uses pet names like “my girl” “mama” “pretty girl” “princess”
if she’s on the phone or doing anything she’ll be like “nope im busy, im gonna hang out with my wife”
she has a separate calendar for any special dates you two have
speaking of dates SHE LOVESS stay at home dates where you guys can just enjoy each other
loves being called “panther” “pretty”
she knows shes in trouble when you call her by her last name so everytime you do
“Udaku.” shuri immediately stopped whatever it was she was doing. you only called her by her last name when she was in trouble. she turned around to see you standing at the door of your shared bedroom. you where holding an empty chocolate wrapper and shuri knew she was doomed. “care to explain why this was in your drawer” she knew it was your chocolate, and you did not play with your chocolate. “baby- i can explain. it was griot!” immediately the AI came to its own defence. “panther i can not consume solids, and if i could i would be lactose intolerant” you looked back at her with a look of disbelief “blaming poor griot, do you have no shame udaku? put your shoes on you’re going to get me some more.” she didn’t bother to argue that it was almost midnight”
“happy wife, happy life i guess”
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riri williams : ☆ ☆
riri did not waste a second to make you hers
like she was ON IT, “you feelin me right? ight so we locked in”
shes a huge sneaker head to ofcourse she put you on game
loves being pampered even though she tries to put a tough front abt it
riri will let you pick her outfits so you guys can match
lets you do her lashes and play in her hair
This girl is tenderheaded as FUCKK so everytime you do anything she starts wailing like you stabbed her.
calls you “ma” “mami” “pookie” and has you saved on her phone as “baby mama #2” just to piss you off ( theres not even a baby mama #1 )
she got you guys a build a bear toy and acts like its your child, buying fits for it and shoes
“you neglected our CHILD y/n,” “Im sorry i put him in jordans when we are wearing dunks today”
loves when you call her princess, because she deserves TOP princess treatment
made a shirt that says “i <3 my girl” and wears it ALL THE TIME.
“riri williams, get that shirt off your body and put on something proper.” you two where getting ready to go out on a cute little arcade date, and since only one of you is sane and normal, riri took it to herself to wear one of her goofy “i heart bae” shirts with your face plastered on the front. “This is proper ma, i cant show you off?” she draped her arms around your waist. “you wore it last time, niggas are gonna think i’m holding you captive.” she chuckled and gave you a quick peck. “Let them think that then, im happy with my fit. I’ll see you in the car!” she quickly ran out laughing before you could respond. “This girl is gonna be the death of me.”
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shuriri : ☆ ☆ ☆
getting these two together is something you often wonder “why do i do this to myselfl
they are just plain EVIL
they love to prank you and tease you everywhere you go
theres not a single dull moment
when shuri’s stealing your food riri is distracting you
and they betray each other too, riri kissing shuri while you grab her phone to spam pictures, or shuri randomly calling riri a pet name while you too are in a heated debate about your shared child so you can run away with the infant in question
they are honestly the cutest, they love spoiling you and pampering you, and you love pampering them alike
they love to cuddle and have you play with their hair
shuri makes fun of riri’s tenderhead
shuri teaches you both xhosa and you guys love it
shuri picks up on you and riri’s lingo sooo quick its too cute
sometimes you catch them staring at you just admiring you
you guys defend griot everytime shuri gets a smart mouth with the AI
you guys are always matching, sometimes on accident
“you guys wanna be like me so bad” you look up from your shoe laces and notice that both you and shuri where matching with riri, all three of you have a soft pink hoodie and black pants on with white forces. “bitch, you wanna be like US, the blueprint.” you retorted as you stood up walking over to your jewelry cabinet to put on some hoops. “You both are insane, you copied me” “actually panther you kn-“ “griot shut up.” shuri scolded the AI and both you and riri glared at her. “You do not talk to griot like that Udaku,” “Yea nigga, griot my son, you watch yo mouth talking to him”
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trash-laurry · 1 year
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“Still got it, Munson”
I always get incredibly inspired by great storytelling, and “the yes policy” by @pinkrelish is one of the best fan fictions I’ve ever read, not only when it comes to the stranger things fandom, and from there i drew this little something (please give credits if you repost <3).
I absolutely raccomend this slow burn/romcom/mechanic!Eddiexf!reader, you WILL NOT regret it. Let’s start to support creative people whenever they deserve it truly, and this writer is one on them without a single doubt.
edit: if you wanna buy prints of this, you’ll find them on my redbubble shop, that should be up and running soon! thank you for all the love
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nixie-writes-aot · 1 year
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Reiner Breeding Kink Headcanons
Warnings: nsfw, minors dni, dumbification, breeding kink, cumplay, praise, size kink, creampie
Pairing: Reiner Braun x female reader
Author's Note: I had some thoughts about Reiner today fjfndn
I think we can all agree Reiner has a massive breeding kink. Reiner standing above you, cock slamming into your cunt over and over and over again. He just can't get enough of you, of how tight you are around him, and how responsive you are to his cock, which you're just absolutely struggling to take because this man is too big for anyone to take easily. Reiner is just absolutely massive after all and he can't get enough of your cunt. 
So, naturally, he just wants to give for all you've given to him. Your time, your energy, your love. He wants to give back. What better thing to give to them than his very own time, energy, and love? In the form of his cum, of course. Only the best for you, the love of his life. Which he'll remind you of countless times, slamming into your cunt as he moans and groans in your ear about how pretty you are, how good you feel about his cock, and how much he just loves you. Because he does. More than life itself, driving his cock into you and granting you a brutal orgasm just to show you how much he loves you. 
Reiner growls in your ear as he cums, filling you up and watching as you're much too stupid to lay there and keep his cum in. But that's okay. Reiner will take care of you. He'll push his cum back in with his fingers, fucking it into you. If that doesn't work? Oh well, he'll just have to fill you again and keep it in with his cock. Praising you as he pounds that tight little cunt, railing you again because "it just kept spilling out, it won't take that way, darling". Anyway, yeah. Reiner and breeding just makes sense.
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ghost-proofbaby · 8 months
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(its kinda dumb but)eddie climbing through the wrong window one night, while trying to meet you (youre steves sister) and shit- now steve knows about about you two.
"Munson...?" steve questioned as the man in question tumbled through his window.
Eddie sprangto his feet "Uh- Shit, wrong window." eddie stumbled over his words "Im- im just going" he motioned to the bedroom door.
"why the hell are you in my house, dude?" steve was obviously annoyed at the trespasser.
"Uh, studying!" eddie answered.
"Inmy house...? at midnight???"
"Yea- your sister needed help-"
Steve groaned, "dont tell me. just go. use protection, i dont need to be an uncle yet-"
PLEASEEEEE NOT THE UNCLE LINE OH DEAR GOD
you two would never hear the end of it. steve is 100% like hopper was with el and mike, randomly slamming open your door at night and making sure eddie isn’t over. and when he knows eddie is over, that door better stay open a full three inches, or god so help him.
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navybrat817 · 1 year
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Muse
Pairing: Artist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky is thankful to have you as his muse. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Fluff, kissing, light insecurities if you squint, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's in love (and he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Nix was kind enough to send me an old edit she made and I ran with it for @the-slumberparty 's Across the Universe challenge. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky Barnes hadn't expected to find solace in art when he was younger. It seemed more like a path that his best friend Steve would take, though both of them appreciated expressing themselves creatively. Life also taught him that his road came with unexpected bumps and turns. Trading guns for brushes and pencils after he left the army, art helped him process some of his emotions he long kept at bay. It showed him how to look at life from a different perspective. In some ways, it saved him.
Like you did.
"Mmm."
The moan you let out drew Bucky's gaze up from his sketchpad, smiling softly as you stretched your legs out under the sheets. As tempted as he was to rouse you with his tongue, he decided to let you sleep since he already woke you once in the middle of the night. It wouldn't be the first time he sketched you while you slept.
The pad in his hand was already filled with drawings of you, but one more wouldn't hurt. Over the hours and days spent with you, he studied and learned your body well. He had other sketches and paintings of you in various angles and lightning. Those would never be sold.
Some art that existed was for the artist alone.
The pencil began to move across the paper once more when you didn't stir. If you woke up and caught him drawing you again, you'd shake your head and tell him he had more than enough. He disagreed.
There was beauty in his surroundings, but they paled in comparison to you.
"Bucky," you whispered, sending a shiver of excitement down his spine. Like the color red, you speaking his name invoked deep, intense passion within him. He saw hues in brighter shades thanks to you. "Come back to bed."
"I'm almost finished," he promised.
"You drawing me again?" you mumbled, bringing your hand up to cover your yawn as he kept sketching. "You have enough and I'm a mess."
"Maybe. Maybe not," he teased with a tender smile when your eyes opened halfway. "And you're not a mess. You're beautiful."
And it’ll never be enough.
"Careful, James," you teased back, arching your back as you stretched. "Keep smiling and sweet talking and they'll take away your brooder card."
"We can't have that," he winked.
When Bucky decided to pursue art outside of a hobby, he hadn't meant to become a brooding recluse on purpose. He simply preferred solitude while he worked and he valued his privacy. While he was encouraged to promote his work on social media to help build more clientele, he never showed his face. He let his art speak for itself. It worked.
It was how he came to meet you.
Before he met you in person, you were his favorite customer. You bought multiple pieces and left the kindest comments on his page. He often went back to reread them when he got lost in his own head.
"While there are many beautiful pieces of art in the world, Bucky Barnes gives us work that defines, and defies, beauty. His art can move you to tears or give you hope of brighter days ahead. We're privileged that he chooses to share his vision with us and one can only hope to see the world as he sees it."
He may have moved you with his visuals, but you moved him with your words.
"I have to meet her," he told Steve when you commissioned a custom piece.
Steve couldn't believe it since Bucky hardly ever let anyone into his studio. He said it was the least he could do for someone who consistently showed him support. He wouldn't admit at the time how nervous he was to meet you. Or why he felt so compelled to see the person behind the name since he refused to look for you on social media.
He realized that day it was destiny to meet you.
The artist and the muse.
"Back to bed," you ordered, moving the sheets back as he set his pencil and pad down. He used the opportunity to gaze along your naked frame bathed in the soft light, lingering between your thighs. "Please, Bucky?
"Who am I to deny my muse?" he smirked, slowly standing from his stool to stretch. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and he had thrown his dark hair up in a bun to keep it out of his eyes. "Especially when you look at me like that."
I'm littered with scars and you gaze at me like I have no imperfections.
"Have you seen you? You're gorgeous," you said, patting the mattress for him to sit.
“Not as gorgeous as you.”
“Take the compliment, brooder,” you said with a sleepy grin.
When he took a seat with a chuckle, you stopped him before he could lay over you. Instead, you took his right hand and had him stay in place as began to gently massage it. You commented more than once about how long and thick his fingers were and how warm to the touch they were against your skin. Working at his hand in tiny circles, you carefully rubbed out any tension you sensed. While you focused on the task at hand, he took another minute to gaze at you in wonder.
My beautiful muse.
"There," you said, kissing his palm once you finished.
"Thank you," he said, resting the same hand over your heart.
He watched and felt your chest rise as you inhaled. The steady beat grounded him. He was lucky enough for you to let him paint you with his love.
Inside and out.
"Do you ever regret it?" he asked as he traced a small heart on your chest.
Your forehead scrunched as you looked at him. "Regret what?"
"Choosing me," he whispered.
You had a chance to live a life of luxury and you walked away from it for me. Do you regret following your heart when you could've had so much more with him?
You exhaled as you pushed yourself up to face him and placed your hands on both cheeks, making sure he was looking into your eyes. "I will never regret choosing you or being yours," you whispered back.
Bucky's eyes softened as he smoothed his left hand down your back and dropped a kiss to your mouth. He lost himself in the feel of your lips and tongue, an exchange of desire he only got to experience with you. He didn't live a life of glamor, but he would forever give you a life of love.
"Now use me as your canvas," you said as the kiss ended.
Like Bucky said, who was he to deny his muse?
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I love Bucky in love. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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