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#the boys are such a pain with timelines
aethlingg · 2 years
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as someone who has made jrwi timelines before, i do but also dont reccommend. great sense of perspective, but its such hell. reccommend counting whenever long sleeps or day/night are mentioned to track said time. its awful but not. - autismcoded-albatrio
luckily pd s1 takes place in such a short time period, so im literally just ignoring any time they’ve ever said anything time related cuz they suck and the amount of times they sleep matters more lmao
but yeah thank you for the tip!!
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crimeronan · 3 months
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doctor's appointment today so i have to stay awake even tho i wanna go back to bed so bad. thinking more about luz getting hunter back after going thru hell in the worst timeline i was posting about earlier. luz on the kitchen floor hanging onto him and asking him a million questions about their shared childhood to prove his identity, which hunter assumes is because she's afraid this is an illusion & which is actually more because she's afraid this may be a new grimwalker....
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Ahhhhhh…so I think I’m THIS close to hitting a certain street (aka Writer’s Block) or maybe even a HUGE wall which is a very bad thing, as always… and a really good friend of mine told me to outrun it by writing, and they’re SO CORRECT but now I think I can only write like 5 sentences as my brain fast forwards to a different scene UGH (You know what…why don’t I just…WRITE that scene down…)
If only imagery helped…because then I would’ve rammed into that wall with a freaking car but sadly I can’t do that…
Hm, maybe I’ll do the editing instead. I seem to be in the mood for that…
Huh, come to think of it, why am I even writing this rant…?
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i-bring-crack · 11 months
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I did not asked to receive emotional damage from s
Solo Leveling Ragnarok thank you very much.
Spoilers in the tags.
#Like how could they do thsi to me#ALL the other shadows were freaking normal in solo leveling#Igris Beru Tank Kaisel— yeah like literally they were wither beast of bad people like Iron#but no Suho this boy#i tell you if this brat knew KNEW who he was bringing back to like I-jabskan#first shadow soldiers that he gets are the goblins which#im freaking sad to know that shadow soldiers can expirience pain yet still cant go against the orders of their master#how do i keep on living with this information!??!?!?! Its not like they even explore it or something#they just give it to me and im supposed to be okay for this!??!?! MENTALLY?!?!?#and then there is the first shadow soldier he saves which is like Lee Minsung– Quay– number one wanted villain#i liked his arc but damn did this guy fuk up and then ad a shaodw he decided to reedem himself and now im just like... bro that got me#i was not expecting a bee to have emotions today#not when you stebbed your best friend literally and also you almost got turned into a worker by Queen Bee#like now i really like you as a shadow but damn. i didnt expect sympathy from you.#and then there is Kang tae shik as the new shaodw and im just like absolutely bawling he DID NOT need to die that freaking quickly#i liked the guy. pre rewind and now as a villain bounty hunter this guy was just a freaking gold star among the poor characters in SL#and poorer villains in SL. he was cool. he was fun to read about. -slams table- How the F u c k am i supposed to function after this man#just suddenly dropped us with the most tragic backstory. like bitch i even forgive your ass bc your ass was fine in killing your dad.#legit didnt kill anyone else u til woo jin chul told him so. and now im just thinking pre the rewinf timeline the only reason kang tae shi#wasnt stopped by jin chul was probably bc jin chul let him kill those criminals#woo jin chul became so much brutal in this series i swear#like i love him so much for it but damn#still sexy smexy somehow#but damn
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nat-of-personifs · 6 months
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archon
It’s hard to forget where you keep your knives.
Vanguard’s surfaces every day, when he’s lying awake at one in the morning from the invisible bruises reaching all the way into his bones and he rubs his hand against the one thing he’s been able to decide about the place (person? Humanoid? Sitespirit?) he lives in. It’s a single aloe vera plant.
A knife that belongs in the D-Class kitchen lies buried in the soil.
He’ll wipe the blade and the handle of every speck of dirt he can see with the Kleenex by his bed, and then rub it more for good measure. He’ll run it under the sink. It has to be 1AM; it’s the only hour he has free from (by extension, his mother) RAISA’s eyes. Trust is the only card he can play, but he has copies of it in spades.
All it would take is one moment too long lost in the high for everything to crumble. In a convoluted, angry way… the eyes do care for his welfare. They’ll express it in white walls and a bare mattress.
He’s getting off track. It’s a problem they’re working to fix in speech class, but he’s alone, not even talking. He can’t wrap his head around the idea that his mother isn’t everywhere, can’t see into his brain when there’s nothing to extrapolate his thoughts from.
Stab of guilt. No, it’s the ache.
He pulls out the knife. Against his arm, it’s comically large. He scrubs and rubs and rinses.
It won’t make him hurt more; just differently. He’d rather his whole body feel the way his shoulders do when there’s nothing to hold back for than whatever the ache is, or the veritable fire in his stomach. Speech class. Smile past it. It’s his mother’s pain, not his.
He turns on the bathroom light. It’s a risk, yes, especially when he still can’t bear to lock himself in, but seeing himself is half the fun. He holds the knife to his shoulder. Thoughts flee, rats burrowing back into dens, but he’s got an infestation of them.
It isn’t a problem to smile past it when he’s sure he owns himself. Guilty pleasure? Pleasure to relieve the guilt. The opposite of a guilty pleasure. Would that be an innocent pain?
That’s not right at all. Innocent pain’s what he’s guilty for.
It would take under a minute to find blood if he’d had a clean slate. But his knife runs into five different instances of healing skin, grating friction, kicking up tiny flecks of epidermis like stationary dust.
Again: the lack of a label won’t stop him. Foundation’s deaf to his complaints when they don’t come with one. That’s likely why he rejects the elephant in the room, tooting its own horn with every suicide prevention lifeline he stumbles across and promptly puts out of his mind, and every trigger warning he has to filter for every time he’s allowed access to the Internet.
Like this, it’s not as satisfying. But the ache and the thoughts are waning; that’s all he’ll ask for. Is it the minimum? He’ll survive, without this knife. He’ll just burn himself instead. His control of his pyromancy is so poor, cutting’s just harm reduction before the harm.
Come to think of it, RAISA’s started adding trigger warnings to all xyr archives, and Kay Martin’s helping. It’s probably not directed at him. RAISA shows xyr ire by blasting Pulse Demon into Cimmerian’s headphones, and elaborate pranks on Martin, not this kind of subtle shit, and it might not even be related to the transition.
Blood still spills, darker than he remembers it. It’s not enough to be beyond enough. It’s tainted, by the scars and scabs the knife had picked up above it. He’s running out of room.
Growing pains. Yeah.
He’s feeling alright. He’ll aim for two, or four barely-below-surfaces tonight, and then he’ll rinse them with soap and rub the blood away with towels and wipe off the knives. He hates that it’s three steps, but the reverse makes up for it.
He’ll sleep like a baby after this, when his gut finally settles, despite the chittering of his rats.
Maybe he’ll put something on the cuts, too. It seems like overkill. With his developing healing factor, they’ll scar no more than a papercut.
But aloe vera’s so close by, it’s practically a crime not to use it.
The idea for Arek’s chronic pain comes from @imadewritingmyjob
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what if ryan bought the lamp as a way to trap the genie thats currently pretending to be the professor
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redrew some of these nerds, these are there most current/updated designs rn? so improvement i GUESS?
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shepards-folly · 11 months
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A wc!birdsibs doodle cause they’ve been in my head. [alt without the wet cat text under the cut]
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othercrossee · 1 year
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tbh the idea of irida slowly just become the diamond crew friend over the period of the game is hilarious, she was MOVING
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Burns Like Rum
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.
Word Count: 7,840 words
Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet
18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock
Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.
The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.
He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.
It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.
But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.
You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.
"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.
Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.
And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.
You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.
"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.
"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.
"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"
You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.
"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"
Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."
She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."
You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."
You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.
It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.
The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.
She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.
"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.
She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.
You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"
"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.
But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"
"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."
Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.
Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.
He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.
You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."
From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."
He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."
"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.
"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."
You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."
"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.
You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.
Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"
"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.
Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"
"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.
He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.
"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable
"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."
He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.
"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.
Astarion sighed. "...Night."
~❊~
You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.
You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.
"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.
"Stop what?"
"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.
Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"
"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."
You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"
Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."
You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"
"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."
You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.
His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.
"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."
"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"
Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.
"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.
Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.
"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"
"I could go for a little," you said.
Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.
You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.
He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.
"You're starving, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," he whispered.
"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."
Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"
You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."
His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"
A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.
Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."
"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.
He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."
~❊~
Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.
You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.
You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."
Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.
He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.
A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"
You nodded. "Just a bit."
Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."
You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.
"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.
He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.
"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"
Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."
Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.
"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.
You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.
It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.
Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"
You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.
The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.
"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.
You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.
Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"
You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."
"Are you ready?"
You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.
Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.
One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"
"Please do," you said.
"Arms up."
He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.
"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.
"Yes, dear?"
You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."
He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.
"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.
You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.
"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.
You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"
"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."
Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.
Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.
The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.
"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"
You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.
Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.
Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.
He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.
Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.
Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.
"Look at you," he whispered.
The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.
He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.
He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.
You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.
"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."
You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.
You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.
"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.
He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.
"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.
He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.
"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."
Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.
He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.
You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.
Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.
Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"
"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.
He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."
He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.
You smiled. "There's more where that came from."
Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.
You nodded. "I can take a few more."
He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."
You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."
The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."
He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.
Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.
He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.
"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.
You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."
The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."
You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."
He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."
You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"
Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.
"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.
Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.
You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.
You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.
"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.
He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.
Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.
Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.
The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.
Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.
You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.
But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.
He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"
You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.
"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."
He snorted. "Excuse you!"
"It's all over your face!"
He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."
Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."
He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.
"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.
"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"
Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."
You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.
"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.
You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"
The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.
"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."
He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."
You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.
His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.
His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."
You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."
Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.
"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."
He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.
You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.
When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."
You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."
You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."
He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."
Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.
You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.
He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"
~❊~
You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.
Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.
Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.
You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.
You were wrong.
Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.
"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"
You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"
She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"
"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."
She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."
You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.
You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.
Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"
You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"
"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"
"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."
Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.
"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.
Astarion smirked.
"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."
He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.
Karlach squeaked.
"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."
"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."
You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"
Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.
A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.
"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.
You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."
Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"
Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"
"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."
"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin
part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}
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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months
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my everything
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.
Word count: 6.8K
Warnings: angst and fluff, I fucked up original timeline so there is no civil war in here, bucky needs and gets a hug, you're bucky's gf from the 40's, cryofreeze, self hate talk, happy end.
Author's note: enjoy💘
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“Aren't you fucking tired of this?” Bucky growled as he burst into the common room where Sam, Steve, and Natasha were sitting. "If you set me up on another date, Wilson, I'll break your fucking wings."
Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Calm down, cyborg. Look at you, all angry and stressed out; you need to get laid! When was the last time you’ve been on a date?"
Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced between his two friends.
"Sit down, Barnes." Nat nodded her head at the couch across from her. Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, as too many feelings were bubbling inside of him, but he obeyed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now explain what happened.”
 "This idiot is trying to set me up again.” He said, nodding towards Sam. "And I told you I'm not interested."
 “But why? Don't you want to feel like back in the days and have some fun with pretty women? This Hydra shit clearly wasn’t good for you. You’re too tense and always mad. Go on a date, maybe you’ll find a good girl to spend some time with.” Sam genuinely wanted to help his friend, and he didn’t understand why Bucky was so mad about it.
The look on Bucky’s face was weird. Like he wanted to say something but, at the same time, didn’t want to share his thoughts. 
“Are you already dating someone?” Natasha leaned with her elbows on her knees and studied his face. There was definitely something that Bucky didn’t want to say.
Steve looked between the three of his friends, and when Nat asked Bucky a question, it was like a bulb turned on in his head.
 "Buck…" Bucky met Steve's eyes, holding eye contact for a few seconds, like they were talking about something that only they knew.
 “Hey!” Sam said, waving his hands. “What are you two doing? Do you know something, Rogers?”
 “Buck, is it because of her?” The blonde said it almost in a whisper. “You still remember, right?”
“Did you have a girlfriend before the war?” Natasha, as always, understood everything immediately, and it was funny to see how Sam’s mouth fell open in shock.
Bucky clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap, not sure if he should reveal the truth. He had kept it to himself for so long—ever since he escaped Hydra and the memories from the past started to flood his head. It was too painful to think about you. To think about the woman who was his whole life many years ago. He remembered everything, and now he sees you in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes in nightmares, sometimes in the good ones, about the life that you two would’ve had if he hadn’t gone to war.
“What the hell are you hiding from us?” Sam shouted again, trying to get attention.
 “I…” Bucky frowns, staring at his hands. “I had a girlfriend... before the army, before the Hydra.” He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Just the thought of you hurt him, making him regret everything. That he left, that he didn’t marry you, and that the universe had this shitty plan.
 “And that’s why you don’t want to go out with someone?” Come on, man, how long has it been?  80 years? Get over it. It must have been another one of your girlfriends that you hooked up with when you were young.” He chuckled, looking between his friends, none of whom seemed happy with his choice of words.
 "Sam, don't—"
“You sound like an asshole.” 
 “Get over it?” Bucky didn’t let Steve or Nat finish their sentences before he barked at Sam, looking even more angry than before. “Just another one of my girlfriends? Do you have any idea what the fuck you're talking about, Wilson? " He looked like he was ready to kick his friend right in the face. “She wasn’t one of them. In fact, there was no “them”. In my entire life, I’ve never even touched another woman because I've been in love with Y/N since I was 14. We started dating when I turned 18, and I proposed before I had to go to the war.”
Bucky’s emotions quickly changed as the hot rage turned into a longing for memories and feelings. He felt a lump in his throat, so he reached into his pocket for his wallet, from which he pulled out your old and shabby photo, gently running his finger over your face.
“Y/N was everything to me. She said yes, and I promised her that I would return so we could get married. I imagined that I would spend my whole life with her, you know? I don't need any other woman. I do not want it. I still love her, and I don't care if either of you find it funny.
The room fell into heavy silence. Steve just looked out the window, remembering the times when the three of you went to Coney Island, and he was always the third wheel. You were his friend too, and the aching feeling in his chest was too heavy.
Sam felt a little bit awkward after saying these things about your relationships. He wanted to tease Bucky, not be rude.
Natasha was the one who took the first step when she stretched the arm so Bucky would give her the photo. “You two look so cheesy. She’s really gorgeous.” She smirked, looking at the old black-and-white photo of you two sitting on the bench. Your back was almost lying on Bucky’s body, and his arms were wrapped around you. It seemed like you were talking about something and enjoying the private moment. Bucky had the biggest smile Natasha has ever seen on his face, as he was looking at you with heart eyes.
 “Can I see?” Sam finally asked, nodding at the photograph in Natasha's hands. She passed him the photo and Bucky moved in his place, feeling a little bit uncomfortable about revealing this part of his life. 
“You two look cute. Weird to see a smile on your face.” Sam chuckled.
“Where did you find this photo?” Steve leaned closer to the picture, immediately remembering the day you and Bucky took it and the way Bucky has had it with him ever since.
 “I took it to the war. Always had it in a jacket, even on missions. She was with me that day on the train. I think Hydra found this in my pocket. When I ran away from there, I found a box with my stuff; the photo was there.”
 “Have you… tried to find something about her?” Steve lifted his head, studying his friend's reaction.
 “Yeah,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know how, but I didn’t find anything. Two years after my fall, there was no record of her. No marriage certificate, no place of residence, no place of work. Nothing. Like she just disappeared.” He shook his head in despair. 
 “But it's impossible.” Steve frowned, giving the photo back. “A person can't just disappear and leave nothing behind.”
 "I don't know," Bucky shrugged, looking back at the photo for a second and then slipping it back into his wallet. "Maybe it's for the best. I don't know how I would come to terms with the news of her death.”
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It’s been almost two weeks since that conversation, and luckily for Bucky, Sam didn’t attempt to set him up with anyone anymore.
Earlier that day, Tony announced that his new technology had spotted some weird activity in something that looked like an old and hidden Hydra base. It was pretty much abandoned, but there were signs of small energy consumption, as if something was still constantly working. That’s why the team of Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Tony had to check it out and destroy any possible danger.
After being free from Hydra, Bucky didn’t take part in many missions because the team agreed that it would be better for him to heal and stay far away from triggers. But this base brought up many concerns: it was hidden far away, there was no information about it in nonofficial papers, and even Bucky himself had never heard about it. Tony insisted that someone with knowledge of the Hydra system should go there too.
When the four of them arrived on the quinjet at something that looked like a well-hidden abandoned bunker, they decided not to split up and go through the main and only entrance.
“Be careful; we don’t know that they might hide in here.” Steve said, going in first with a shield in front of him. Bucky and Sam went after him, holding rifles and checking the big and almost empty room.
“They should clean in here, kinda dusty.” Tony chuckled in his usual playful voice. 
“It’s not a good time for your jokes, Stark.” Steve was always a little too serious during missions, and Tony really liked pushing his buttons. “I see the light in the other room.” He whispered, carefully opening the door. 
“Holy shit.” Sam and Tony spoke at the same time when all four of them entered the giant room.
There were five big glass machines that were a little bit foggy and had a little lightning in them.
“What is this?” Steve ran closer to one of them and saw that there was a man inside. “Oh my god, there is a man in here... It looks like he’s alive.”
“There is a folder called “The Winter Soldier Program” with personal information.” Sam said, picking up a file from the shelf in the corner of the room. “George Harris, 27 from New York. Kathleen Hill, 21 from New York…” He read, mumbling to himself.
“It’s a cryostasis chamber. Hydra used it to freeze me.” Bucky lowered his rifle, coming closer to one of the chambers. Another man. “It lowers your body temperature to the point that you can be kept like that for many years. Hydra– “ Bucky went silent when he got to another glass camera. 
“Barnes? Why is there—” Sam didn’t finish his words when the sound of Bucky’s weapon falling on the cold concrete filled the room. 
“No-no-no, please, no!” He whispered, moving closer to the glass. He couldn’t believe what he saw. 
You were right in front of him, with closed eyes and too pale skin. That was impossible. It’s not you. There was no chance that you somehow ended up with Hydra. 
Bucky felt like he was unable to breathe. He tried to inhale some air, but the lump in his throat was too big. The tears blurred his vision; he didn’t hear anything around him, as your almost lifeless body was the only thing that he thought about. You, his sweet girl, somehow ended up trapped with monsters, and he couldn’t do anything to save you from it. 
“Bucky!” Two pairs of hands dragged him from the chamber, and the blurry vision of his best friend was now visible in front of him. “Bucky, listen to me! You should calm down, buddy. Just breathe, okay?” Steve deeply inhaled and exhaled to help Bucky, and after a few minutes, he was finally able to speak.
“T-that’s impossible, Steve. She shouldn’t be there! She should’ve found another man and lived a happy life with her family!” He said in a shaking voice, angrily wiping away tears from his face. 
“I don’t know how this happened, Buck; I really don’t. But she may be alive there.” Steve supportively squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. 
“We can’t just take these people out. We should transport them to the tower and find the safest way to unfreeze them.” Tony said in a serious voice, not joking around anymore. He walked closer to the chambers, studying each of them. “It looks like they are working on their own power, and this one, “he pointed at the one that was dark and with water drops from the inside. “Doesn’t work anymore. The man is probably dead.” 
“Are there any chances of getting them out of there alive?” Sam glared at Bucky, who was just staring at your peaceful but haggard face through the glass.
“I don’t know, but me and Banner will do everything we can.”
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It took another day to find a way to move four of the still-working chambers to the compound and ten more hours to defrost everyone. and to say that Bucky was completely stressed out and exhausted was an understatement. He didn’t sleep at all, staying in the room near the lab to get all the news as soon as possible. He walked around the room for hours, overthinking everything—what will happen if you die or if you survive? Is it really better for you to wake up and see all the damage that he has done for the past years? To see the empty shell of the person you loved in the past?
“Barnes!” Tony blasted through the doors with a grin on his face. “We did it.”
“You did it?” Bucky’s whole body was buzzing with energy and anxiety. “Where is she? Is she alive? Is she conscious? Can I see her?”
“Wow-wow, calm down. She is alive, but you can’t see or visit her right now. Dr. Cho has to run many tests to find out whether your lovebird is healthy or not.” Tony nodded his head toward the corridor so Bucky would follow him. “We put each of them into a different room, and your Blonde Bestie insisted on putting Y/N into the best and the biggest one. There is a special window through which you can see her, but she cannot see you from the inside. So you can be as creepy as you want to until she gets better.” Stark slapped Bucky on the shoulder to show some kind of support when they stopped in front of the said window. 
You were lying on the bed, surrounded by too many wires and monitors. Dr. Cho was standing above you, writing something down, and checking the device near your head.
She said something aloud, probably talking to FRIDAY, and came out of the room. 
“Oh, Mr.Barnes, I heard that Y/N was your girlfriend, right?” She smiled, and Bucky slightly nodded, not being able to completely drag his attention from your body. “I’ll tell you this: it’s my most difficult and unique case, but she’s a strong one. Her body heals faster than other people’s from cryo. I believe she’ll be fully awake tomorrow.” 
“Thank you, Dr.Cho.” Bucky felt a little bit better now that he had more hope that you could really be back. Dr.Cho gave him another smile and left to check on her other patients. 
“I have to find out if these people have families. Did Y/N have someone who might be alive?” Tony asked. 
“No, she didn’t.”
“I’ll go, and you, Barnes, will stay away from her for now, understood?” He pointed a finger into Bucky’s face. 
“Yes. I’ll just watch from here.” 
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You were alive. You were awake. Bucky saw with his own eyes as your body started moving and you slowly sat on the bed, confused by your surroundings. He saw panic on your face because you were clearly disoriented and scared to be alone in an unknown place. 
As fast as he could, he found Dr. Cho, who was in the room with Steve and Natasha. When he, choking on all the emotions, told them about you, it was a mess. 
Dr. Cho and a few other nurses ran to your room to check your condition because you were the first one to open your eyes.
Bucky, Steve, and Nat stood on the other side of the window. Bucky wasn’t able to fully convince himself that it was true that you were so close to him. It felt like a dream, like a weird picture that his brain created to comfort him. 
“She’s okay, Buddy.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder because it seemed like he didn’t even blink or breathe. “You can see her soon.”
“No.” He mumbled.
“What?” His friend’s head shot in his direction.
“Someone else should talk to her first. Tell her about my past. Maybe she won’t even want to see me after everything I’ve done.”
“I can go and talk to her first.” Natasha softly smiled. She knew the feeling when you’re afraid that someone will leave you because of your past. “I think it’s better for Y/N to first find out that she woke up in the new century and that she was cryofrozen for many years. I’ll tell her that Steve is alive, and then me and you can both tell her about Bucky.” 
Bucky just nodded to her words, still not being able to look at anything besides you. He wasn’t sure that after you find out all the truth, you’ll allow him to even be around you, so for now, he tried to memorize you as much as he could. 
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Since the moment you opened your eyes, everything felt unknown and different. You couldn’t explain it, but something had changed. You didn’t know where you were, what time it was, how you ended up in that place, or who all these people were. You felt scared as too many doctors crowded your room and fussed around, talking about tests and medical procedures. 
The young woman who seemed to be in charge was actually really sweet. After only you and her were left in the room, she sat on your bed with a pile of clothes in her hands and smiled at you. 
“So, Y/N, my name is Dr. Cho, and I’m here to help you heal faster and without any consequences.” 
“Where am I?” Your voice was too raspy and harsh. It felt like you swallowed a glass of sand. 
She sighed, looking at her journal. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise that there’s nothing to worry about. You are safe. In a few minutes, someone will visit you to talk about everything and answer any of your questions. Now, I was told to give you these clothes so it would be more comfortable for you. You can change in the bathroom right there; there is also anything you might need like a toothbrush, soap, and so on.” She pointed at the door in the corner of the room. 
You stayed silent until Dr. Cho left your room, and then slowly, feeling kind of scared to move around this place, you went to the bathroom to change out of the hospital gown. 
The bathroom looked even weirder than the main room; you had never seen such furniture and interiors. And when you unfolded your new clothes, it took you a few seconds to figure it out. It was some kind of soft pants and a large t-shirt. What kind of clothes was it? Yes, they were actually comfortable, but it wasn’t something that you saw in the stores. 
While you were brushing your teeth, your brain was working too hard trying to figure out what the hell was going on, until you heard someone calling your name. 
“Hey, Y/N, my name is Natasha.” The pretty red-headed woman was standing near your bed with a tray and food in her hands. 
“Please, tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Why does everything look so strange here?” You said in a desperate voice, you almost wanted to scream because you woke up several hours ago, but no one told you a single thing.
“Don’t be nervous, honey. Let's sit on the bed; you’ll eat your special meal, and I’ll tell you everything you want.” She was so nice and genuine, so you nodded and sat down. 
Natasha placed a tray near you, and you saw that it was your favorite food of all time. You took a bite, and your taste buds were immediately filled with the taste of the meal that James cooked you almost every day. James. It was his recipe. The tears flooded your eyes when all of the memories about your dead boyfriend returned to your head. Yeah, how could you forget that it had been at least two years since he was gone? 
“Y/N? What happened?” Natasha’s worried voice distracted you. 
“It just reminded me of someone. I felt like I was home, and it hurts me because nothing is the same anymore.” You wiped your tears away, taking another bite. 
“I promise you that everything is going to be okay. You are not alone here.” You frowned at her words but still nodded. “So ask whatever you want to.” 
“Where am I, and why does everything look so different?”
“You are at the Avengers Tower, located in Manhattan, New York City. I know that might sound ridiculous, but you were in the cryostasis chamber up until now. It’s 2023, and a lot of things have changed in the world; that's why it might be confusing.”
You stayed silent for a few seconds, overthinking Natasha’s words. “It can’t be true. I can’t be more than one hundred years old now. And I look the same.” 
“This is how cryostasis works—it freezes the body so it can survive many years without any changes. Now tell me how you ended up with Hydra. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?” 
“Back in the 40s, I was a nurse. My– my boyfriend— he died during the war.” You stopped because of the lump in your throat. It was too hard to bring back these memories because it was the first time you said these words out loud. “He died, and then my closest friend died too, and I just had no one left. I was alone, and I didn’t even know what to live for because all of my dreams about family and a happy life with the person I loved died too.” Natasha put her hand over yours on the bed and gave you a supportive squeeze. “Then one day in our hospital, scientists were looking for people who would like to test new serums. I decided that I had nothing to lose, so me and a few other nurses signed in.” 
“Kathleen, Josh, Adam, and Frank, right?” The woman in front of you gave you a sad smile.
“Yes, how do you know that?” 
“We found them with you. Adam’s camera was broken, so he died a long time ago, but the rest of them are here too, but, unfortunately, they haven’t regained consciousness yet.” 
You nodded. Your food was now done and set aside, and you sat on the bed more comfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. “These scientists were running some tests on us in the lab that they brought us in. It felt weird, and I remember that Kathleen always complained that it was painful. The last thing that happened was that they told us to step into a weird-looking machine that was meant to be a part of some kind of experiment. That’s it.”
“It was Hydra. A terrorist organization that tried to rule the world. They were evil, and you were lucky to get out of there alive.” Natasha pursed her lips. “Thank you for telling me this.” 
You two sat in silence for a few seconds until she looked over her shoulder at the weird-looking mirror that took up almost a whole wall. 
“Is anything wrong?” You furrowed.
“I have to tell and show you something really important, but everyone is worried about how you are going to react to this.” She studied your face with a weird expression. 
“Is there anything more crazy than me being in another century after I was frozen?” You tried to smile, but Natasha just nodded. 
“I’ll be right back. Please, try to breathe, okay?” She stood from your bed, took the tray, and left. 
Natasha came back, and behind her was the last person you ever expected to see again. You jumped on your feet, feeling like your eyes were lying to you. 
“This—this can’t be true... No, Natasha—Steve, you died.” You mumbled under your breath. Your heart rate was way higher than usual, and it felt like you were drowning. You put your hand over your eyes, as your body started shaking. It’s just a dream. It’s just a weird fucking dream.
Two large hands wrapped around your body, pulling you into the hard chest. “Sh-s, Y/N, breathe, just breathe.” His familiar voice filled your ears, and you started crying harder, gripping his shirt. He was rocking you from side to side like a baby, while your tears and sobs filled the silent room.
“What– how– how is this possible? You crushed the plane into ice.” You shattered, tears running down your face.
“The Super Soldier serum saved me. The S.H.I.E.L.D. found my body 12 years ago.” Steve loosened his arms around you, allowing you to look up at him. He was exactly the same. This blonde hair, these light blue eyes, and that soft smile that he always had for you. “Please, sit back on the bed. We have a lot to talk about.” His face was now more serious. Even though he was extremely happy to get back his second closest best friend, he knew that Bucky was dying without you.
Steve and Bucky both looked at your interaction with Natasha, and it was obvious that everything Bucky wanted was for you to be near him. He looked through that window without any distraction, and his face lit up with a small smile when you tasted the food that he cooked for you and became emotional. He knew that you would appreciate it.
“About what?” You wiped your face with the back of your hand and sat down, holding Steve's hand. Natasha, who was still standing in the middle of the room, passed him a thick folder and left. Steve sat near you and gave you a supportive smile. 
“Bucky.” 
You froze and snatched your hand out of his. 
“Steve, no. Please—” You wrapped your hands around your body, as if you were instantly trying to hide from the pain that was aching in your chest. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore. I can’t handle that. Talking about him w-when he’s not with me anymore.” The sods started to get out of you, and you hid your face from Steve’s soft and apologizing eyes.
“He is alive.” Steve’s hands fell on your shoulders, and he lowered his head, trying to make you look him in the eyes.
“Don’t lie to me! He is dead; I saw the reports; I got the letter from Phillips saying that he’s sorry for our loss!” You particularly yelled at your friend. 
“Y/N, listen to me, okay? Bucky is alive. He is here. Behind that door, he’s watching us right now.” You were shaking your head in denial. 
That was impossible. You knew all this story; Steve himself told you what happened that day. There was no chance for Bucky to survive the fall from that height in the middle of nowhere. Yet here was Steve, sitting right before you. His big blue and soft eyes were looking into your eyes, and you didn’t see a single sign of hesitation or lying in there. He was so genuine that you wanted to believe that your boyfriend was, in fact, a few meters away from you.
“How? And why? James– he would’ve been with me if he were alive. Why isn’t he here?” You sobbed, and then the realization came to you. “That food—the food that Natsha brought me. It tasted exactly like he made it.”
“Bucky thought that it might comfort you. He found you in that laboratory, he has been near you since that day, and he saw that you were scared and disoriented when you woke up. And that's why I am here. Bucky insisted that I should talk to you first and tell you everything. He is afraid that you might not see him anymore after finding out everything that is written here.” Steve picked up the folder and put it on your lap. 
“The Winter Soldier” was written on top of the old-looking piece of paper, and for some reason you felt something weird in your chest.
“I want to let you know that whatever is in here, it cannot make me hate him.” You mumbled, hesitating to open the folder. “What’s in there, Steve? Tell me everything.”
“These are the papers that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had on the Winter Soldier. Everything that happened to him: experiments, torture, assassinations, crimes. This is what happened to Bucky after the fall. This is what Hydra did to him over these years.” 
You felt a lump in your throat when you opened the first page and saw Bucky’s photo from the army. But nothing prepared you for everything you read and saw after that. He wasn’t even James or Bucky anymore. He was a Soldier. An Asset. Someone without an identity. All the detailed descriptions of the medical procedures, brainwashing, electroshock, torture, and punishments with attached photos made you want to vomit and cry hysterically. You couldn’t stop crying when your shaking hands took a picture of the love of your life sitting shirtless and unconscious on some kind of stool with wires attached to his head. 
How could someone do that? How could someone torture a person almost to death and then just write about it like it was a fucking dairy? 
“His arm, it’s metal. Why is it made from metal?” Your teary-red eyes shoot back to Steve’s face. 
“Bucky lost it during the fall. They gave him a new one, but it causes him a lot of pain. Physical and mental.”
“I don’t— Steve, I don’t understand.” You took another picture with Bucky standing in his full black costume and a mask, not a single emotion on his face. “Why did they do this? For what?” 
“Hydra wanted to have the perfect asset. Killing machine. To commit crimes, kill unwanted people, and basically rule the world.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor. “They made Bucky the best. They completely cleared his head from the memories of his past; they trained him to be invincible and invisible. They had a special combination of words to control him, so he would always come back and do as he was told.”
You closed the file and moved it aside, closing your face with your hands while you were crying.
“And he thinks that I can reject him?” You whispered.
“Y/N, please try to understand what such things can do to your brain. Bucky goes to therapy, but he probably would never be able to fully heal from this experience.” His hand fell on your shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “Bucky always was a good person; that's why right now he feels so much guilt that it’s unimaginable. Even if nothing of this is his fault, he can’t forgive himself for these murders and damage. He has PTSD, nightmares, and a lot of trust issues.”
“I understand, but I would’ve never rejected him. He’s everything that I had, and when I lost him, it felt like hell.” You took a deep breath, looking Steve in the eyes. “Please, let me see him. I need it, and he needs it too.” Steve’s eyes softened at you. He almost forgot the love that his two best friends had for each other. 
“Give me a minute, okay?” He smiled, kissed your head, and left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You were really going to see the man that you thought you had lost forever in a few seconds. It was almost three years for you, but almost eighty for him. A wave of anxiety washed over you when you thought that maybe he doesn’t feel the same anymore and doesn’t have the same feelings as you do. You almost went down a rabbit hole until the door started to open. 
You slowly stood up, feeling a little bit uneasy. Even though you and Steve were just talking about it, seeing Bucky alive felt unreal. Your eyes were sliding up and down his face to remember every little part. He looked different, more mature, with a broad chest and shoulders and long, silky hair. 
Bucky’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was completely dry while you were observing him. You had tears in your eyes, and your lower lip was trembling when you tried to hold yourself from crying out loud. You were in some baggy clothes that Nat found for you, but you still looked fucking gorgeous. Still the most beautiful girl on the whole planet. 
“Doll…” Bucky’s raspy voice filled the room, and it was everything you needed. 
In just a second, you ran to him, falling right into his body. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your face hidden into his neck. 
As soon as Bucky finally hugged your smaller body and felt that it was real and that you were real, he broke down. Every last piece of strength went through the window as the tears rolled down his cheeks, probably soaking your t-shirt.
He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness for all of the awful things that he had done. He didn’t deserve you anymore, not with this much blood on his hands. But Bucky couldn’t do what he wanted because your grip on him was so strong that he wasn’t even able to move away for an inch. 
“James…” Your quiet voice filled his ears, and it sent shivers down his spine. Only you and his ma called him that, and he missed it so fucking much.
Bucky’s hands moved from your waist a little bit lower, and you viewed it as an opportunity to get even closer. Your legs instantly wrapped around his body, and Bucky, making sure that you wouldn’t fall, went to the bed and sat down with you on his knees. 
“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done.” He sobbed, shaking his head. You pulled away a little bit, finally meeting Bucky face-to-face. 
“Don’t you dare apologize for the things that you weren’t able to control, James!” Your voice suddenly became rough, filled with so much anger toward the people who hurt your precious boy. His hand on your waist tightened, and you slid your own to cup Bucky’s face. “I want to kill every one of them. Everyone who hurt you, who punished you,” Soft fingertips traced the delicate skin of the templates where, as you remember from the photos, wires with electricity were placed. “You didn’t deserve to go through this, James. I wish I was there for you.” 
“You were always with me. Even when they wiped me, I still had someone in my head. A woman with a soft voice, who told me that I'm strong and that it will end soon. I would’ve died without it.” You both were looking into each other's teary eyes, both feeling too much love and desire. 
Your head slightly tilted towards his, connecting your foreheads, and for a few seconds, it felt like home. Like nothing happened and you two were just having a lazy morning in bed.
The calloused hand on the side of your face brought you back to reality. Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes were looking into yours, and, sharing one thought, you both moved closer and connected your lips. The kiss was so soft, slow, and gentle, like you had the whole time in the world. It was this type of kiss that said that you both were there and alive. It was a reminder of the love that you had for each other. Reassurance, that no matter what, you will be there.
“I missed you so fucking much, doll. Since the day I first remembered everything, all I could think about was you. Even tried to find you, but there was not a single document. I started to believe that you just found a man, changed your last name, and moved away from that mess.” You were so close to each other, not wanting to split up even for a second. Your hands were moving up and down Bucky’s hard chest while he was rubbing the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.
“Are you joking, James? No one was able to replace you. The only people I talked to during that time were your mom and Becca.” His facial expression slightly changed at the mention of his family, and you placed a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. “I should’ve been the one who took care of them, but I was nothing without you, and Winnie almost made me move in with them. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to be a volunteer for these tests.” 
Bucky shook his head, his eyes again full of regret and pain. “I hate that it happened because of me.”
“At least I’m here right now. With you.” You smiled, sliding your hand into his dark, long locks. “You know, James, you look really good for someone who’s older than one hundred years old. I like your hair. And stubble.” His eyes rolled back at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him without an intention to hurt him, and the realization of that made your heart swell with the need to take care of your boyfriend. 
“You know that you’re one year younger than me, right?” Your favorite little smirk in the whole world appeared on Bucky’s lips, and you smiled, moving a little bit closer to his body. The metal hand on your waist tightened, and you realized that you hadn't seen it in person yet. 
Your right hand reached behind you, grabbing a hard wrist that was covered in leather. Bucky’s body immediately froze under you, and his eyes snapped open. 
“Doll, no… You don’t have to...” 
“I want to. Give me your hand, James.” You said without any hesitation. Bucky looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, but then brought his metal hand between your bodies. “It’s just me, okay? I’m not scared, and I want to know everything.” You wrapped both of your hands around his hand and then gently started to take off the glove. 
The dark metal with beautiful golden stripes was shining under the bright light of the room. Your mouth slightly opened when you moved each finger with interest. Your gentle hands slid higher, rolling up the sleeve of the red henley Bucky was wearing. It was so smooth, without any sharp details, just an amazing and mind-blowing mechanism. 
“That’s so beautiful.” You mumbled in awe. Suddenly the plates under your hands moved, and a quiet whirring sound filled the room. You shot your eyes back at Bucky in shock, only to see that he was already looking at you with so much love that you almost melted. “Did you do that?” 
“It’s a new arm, not from Hydra. It reacts to my emotions. No one ever touched it without any fear.” You almost missed that last sentence, but the hurt in Bucky’s voice made you grab his face with your hands to get his whole attention.
“Listen to me, James. I’m not afraid of you. I won’t reject you. You are everything that I want. You still have the biggest and kindest heart of the guy that I met many years ago, and I’ll do everything to prove to you this.” The metal hand carefully touched your hand on the side of his face. “I love you. I love you so much, James.”
“I love you too, Doll. More than anything in this life,” Your lips crushed into each other, now sharing a more passionate and deep kiss. You slightly tilted your head, allowing Bucky to part your lips with his tongue and playfully bite you. It was almost too overwhelming, and you both were completely lost in each other until you finally needed to breathe. 
“Stay here with me, please. I don’t want you to leave.” You whined, trying to push your big and strong super soldier onto the bed. 
“I won’t leave, baby.” He chuckled, allowing you to push him back. You happily giggled and laid near him, interlacing your bodies together. 
You two were just staying in your own little bubble on your bed for what seemed like forever, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, until you finally fell asleep, feeling happy and peaceful in each other's arms.  
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months
Text
DC xDP idea: Misplace Baby
Danny makes a mistake.
He was messing around in Clockwork's lair-specifically the one with all the various clocks- when he accidentally broke a glowing gold hourglass on himself. It was the size of a house, so as the sand practically drowned him, he didn't notice his body shrinking until he dug out of the shimmering sand.
Danny stumbles on chubby little legs, panicking when he notices his clothes are suddenly too big and his hands are tinny. He fumbles to one of the old grandfather clocks to check his reflection in the glass. A small three-year-old stares back at him.
Danny screams, pushing away from the old clock. His actions cause him to trip over the leg of his pants, and he falls. Just as he tries to catch himself, the clock starts to ding.
Danny briefly recognizes the old melody of a Westminster before the clock's glass case swings open, revealing a portal, and he falls through. He catches a glimpse of Clockwork with a hand on his forehead, shaking his head in the doorway as he falls.
His face is dragged against the carpet as the Westminster chime rings behind him in the otherwise silent room. Groaning at the burn on his nose and cheeks, Danny sits up.
He turns around, watching in horror as the portal closes.
"No! No, no, no!" He opens and closes the glass door, but all he sees is the slightly swinging pendulum. Repeats his actions again and again. "Clockwork! Help! Clockwork!"
His mentor does not answer, and Danny can't feel him in the air. Can't sense his new father figure's gentle control over the flow of time. If he's learned anything in the last year he's been working as his appearance, this means Clockwork isn't in charge of this timeline.
He's in a universe so far from his original that not even the god of Time is the same. Moby Dick, he's gone and goofed now.
"Who's there?" A voice demands, and Danny whips around to see a startled man in a suit. A fine black two-piece suit that looks more expensive than Danny's house and car. Oh no, a rich man.
The man's blue eyes soften when he sees Danny. "Hey there, chum. What are you doing in my study?"
Danny blinks up at him as the man walks closer. At the closeness, the halfa's body betrays him. He starts to sob. Strong, painful sobs that wreck his whole body, and he can't breathe from how much he's crying.
The man's arms are around him in seconds. "Oh, Chum, it's okay. You're okay."
He lifts him up, pressing his wet face against his neck as he pats Danny's little back. It is humiliating, but Danny can't help but cling to the strong shoulders and curl against the warm chest as he cries. His tears and snot are all over the man's suit, but he doesn't seem to care as he comforts Danny.
Eventually, he cries to sleep, tear-stained face still pressed against the stranger's neck and his little head leaning against a strong shoulder. The rich man carefully tilts his head to ensure the toddler is fast asleep.
Once confirmed, he takes the small boy to the guest rooms. He needs answers- who is the boy? Where did he come from? Is he the son of one of the Gala attendees? What had the boy been doing at the clock guarding the Batcave?- but he will find those later. Right now, he needs to tuck this small child into bed.
"Master Bruce, your guests are waiting for you to give the speech," Alfred says, catching him at the stairway. The butler's eyes zone in on the small child in Bruce's arms before nodding. "I shall inform Marster Dick to speak for you. Who may this young lad be?"
"I'm not sure. I just found him crying in the main study." Bruce tilts his head to the upper floors. "I'm going to tuck him in."
"I'm afraid I only prepared the room next to Master Damian in preparation for Master Jon's visit. Thankfully the lads would not be opposed to sharing a room for the night if I request it of them."
"Thank you, Alfred. I'll be down as soon as I-"
"Who's child is that!?" Jason demands, stomping his way up the stairs. He's missing his suit jacket, and there is a nasty red stain on the front of his white shirt. Likely he's come for a change after "accidentally" dumping it on himself to get away from the Gala.
The toddler's nose wrinkles, indicating his sleep may be interrupted. Quickly, Bruce pats his back, humming a lullaby before the child can wake. The boy settles after a small sigh. He gives Jason a warning glare that the young man has the decency to look remorseful.
"Jason," Bruce starts, voice hushed. "I found him in the main study. He looks distressed, but a few minutes ago, I got an alert that someone had gotten into the manor. When I followed the motion detectors, it led me to this little guy."
"A baby broke into the manner? That's hardcore." Jason replied, peering at the sleeping child only to gasp. "It's another mini-you!"
"No," Bruce tells him, but secretly he thinks the same when he first finds the little boy in the main study. He had already taken a lock of the boy's hair. Just, you know, in case.
"Nice try, old man." Jason pulls out his phone, his thumb flying over his screen. A soft ding comes from the pockets of Bruce and Alfred. He doesn't have to look to know his son has just told all his siblings about the child.
A series of dings follow shortly after.
Bruce sighs, choosing not to answer, nodding to Jason and Aldfed as he quickly goes up the stairs. At least Alfred delays Jason from following by scolding him over the red stain.
Once the boy is safely placed into the bed, he carefully changes him into a pair of Damian's smallest pjs. They are still far too big for the boy but better than the jeans and white shirt he wore. He's happy to find that besides the red on his face- it looks like carpet burn- and a small bruise on his knee, the boy is unharmed. He places a stuffed octopus in the toddler's arms- smiling as the little one automatically clings it to it - before rushing down to the Batcave.
There he runs the DNA tests just as he reviews the camera footage. There he catches the toddler walking out of the woods, pushing himself through a small gap in the metal fence and wandering around the manor until he finds an open window and crawls in.
The window was opened by one of his Gala guests taking a smoke break. Bruce felt a small annoyance that they didn't follow his "no-smoking" rule even when he had explained on multiple occasions it was due to Tim not having a spleen and being worried about his health. He'll have to blacklist that man.
The child had not gracefully fallen into the manor, and Bruce winced as the boy slammed against the carpet floor as tripped. It explains the marks on his face. The boy had then cried for a few minutes- his cries must have been drowned out by the music of the Gala- but then he must have realized that no one was coming for him, so the baby had gotten up and wandered through the house crying.
He had found himself in the main study, where a few minutes later, Bruce had seen him.
Rewinding the camera, Bruce's eyes narrowed at seeing a piece of paper pinned to the boy's clothes. It looked like it fell off when he crawled through the window. Checking on the DNA test, Bruce left the cave to look for the paper.
He found in the hands of Cass, whose eyes were going over the words with fascination. She looks up at him, unsurprised by his approach- no one could sneak up on Cass- and smiles widely. "Baby brother?"
"What?"
She hands him a letter. It's short and to the point; it claims to be an old fling that gave birth three years ago, but she doesn't want anything to do with the child. She's sending the boy to the manor and is out of the country by the time he arrives.
She leaves no name.
Bruce can't remember anyone with whom he had a fling three years ago, so he knows it's a lie. Still, he would rather not find her if the child was abandoned like this. He's not sure he wouldn't break all her bones.
"I don't think he's mine," Bruce tells Cass. She tilts her head with a frown, staring at him with a soft glare until he sighs. "But I won't mind keeping him."
She beams.
The two make their way to the Batcave and find Dick already there. He's staring at the screen displaying the DNA results with a stupefied expression.
"Chum?" Bruce asks, but Dick doesn't respond. He only gapes at the screen. Cass skips next to him before she, too, freezes, and Bruce is slightly worried about what he will find.
There is a match between the boy and someone in the manner alright. But it's not with Bruce.
It's a match with Dick.
"Holy rapid-ranging ravens, I'm a father." Dick gasps.
Clockwork runs his fingers through his idiotic son's hair three floors above them. Kronos stands guard at the door, arms cross as he watches the visiting time god carefully whip the dimension travelers' memories.
Kronos is in charge of this universe timeline, but when he was approached by Clockwork asking for a favor, well, it was not hard to shift some events and make Danny a legit background.
He was now the son of Dick Grayson and Stacy Quinell. One was a boy who had been born in a circus but was forced to leave it after the death of his parents. When life got too rough, the boy would join the circus for short trips under the name Dan Danger.
The other was a girl whose parents were so determined to control every aspect of her life and were going to force her to marry a man twice her age she left home at sixteen.
She joined a traveling circus-Haley Circus- where she had a fling with Dan Danger. The night Dan was meant to go, she had seen him without his mask and learned it to be Dick Grayson.
Upon discovering her pregnancy, Stacy feared being kicked out of the circus, so she took a short break, gave birth to the boy, and kept him until he was three, thus demeaning him old enough to be without his mother.
She took him as close as she could to Wayne Manor and left. She intended to return to Haly's Circus, unaware of the fate that waited for her. Unaware of the Cout that needed new talons.
"Are you sure about this?" Kronos asks, "I'm all for discipline, but having the boy forget everything about himself for going into the timeline room?"
"It's not a punishment," Clockwork says. "It's a gift. Danny had lost so much when his parents learned the truth. His sister died trying to get him out of the house. His best friends were crippled when trying to hide him. His town was blown to pieces when his parents decided that no one in Amity Park could have a family if they could not have their children. Danny had spent years wishing to forget but mostly wishing to be a normal child. I will forever be grateful if a lifetime here grants him that."
Kronos frowns. "You have no power here. You do not know what awaits him."
"True, I know not of the trials and tribulations Danny will face, but I know you do. And you would not let anything happen to him, won't you." Clockwork looks at Kronos through his lashes and the other god of time swallows.
"Of course, my love. I will protect him. But unlike you, I can not get involved with mortals as easily. I will not be able to shield him."
"His new family will," Clockwork says, pressing his face against Danny's hair one last time to breathe him in. It will be a lifetime before he can hold his son. "The bats have faced worst odds."
Kronos tilts his head in agreement. "They have rewritten fate on numerous occasions. Even the Flashes have only been able to overturn fate but never truly go against it."
"The Court of Owls?"
"Danny will deal with them in time. His new mother is on her way to becoming a Telon. He will erase them from the timeline once he learns what they have done to her." Krono answers, eyes glowing as events of the future play before him. He watches a glowing figure battle against the king of the dead, his white hair shining brightly. "He seems to take the throne from the king of dead even here. Remarkable."
"My son is the most remarkable being around," Clockwork says proudly. He flouts from the bed, leaving behind a child with only memories of three years and a few false imprinted glimpses of the circus trailer his mother hid him in. He presses a kiss against Krono's lips. "I find myself wishing for another child. Will you assist me with that love?"
Kronos snaps them out of existence just as Danny opens his eyes and feels a small loss. It's quickly forgotten as his new father runs into the room to gasp. "Hey there, buddy, do you know who I am?"
Danny Grayson is introduced to his uncles and aunts later that night. He also meets John Jones and his niece Megan Morse who ask him a few questions about his past. Danny gets a funny feeling around them, as if someone was running their fingers through his hair but inside his head.
Thankfully they find everything to be alright.
And a new generation is born.
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artekai · 2 years
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Why have I been thinking about Nemesis using Fross's memories to torture Kai when all this time I could have been thinking about Nemesis using Fross's memories to torture Fross... 👀
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normspellsman · 1 year
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Take Me With Her
“She Is Mine” Lo’ak Version
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part one | part two
pairing: lo’ak x fem!human!reader
genre: angst, forbidden secret relationship, tiniest bit of fluff, no comfort at all, & violence
word count: 4.1k+ (don’t…just don’t)
warning(s): hissing, lo’ak calling reader babygirl (eeekkk), mentions of death + injury, death threats, lo’ak being possessive, kidnapping, cursing, suggestive tones, brief neck kissing, quaritch being a creep (ewww), reader thinking that she’s going to die, everyone being terrified, spider + lo’ak thinking about killing quaritch, & lo’ak crying
taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @optimisticblazetrash @goodiesinthecloset21 @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @minkyungseokie @amortencjja @chshshhshshshshshshshs
word bank: yawne — beloved, paskalin — honey (term of endearment), eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, & prrnen — baby
note: spider, kiri, lo’ak, & reader are aged up to around the age of seventeen. it just makes more sense given the timeline i had in my head & with what i wrote. also going to be two parts hehe 🤭
Giggles erupted from your throat, your shoulder coming up instinctively to hide your neck from the ticklish attacks your boyfriend was doing to your delicate skin. You were almost confident that he even left some marks on the dips of your collarbones from his nipping.
Lo’ak whined in protest, attempting to burrow his face deeper into the crook of your neck.
“Yawne,” he whimpered, rubbing his cheek against your pulsepoint once he finally broke through your insistent hiding of your neck. “Can’t I show my love to my babygirl?” He whined, yet again.
You huffed in response, not sure if it was from annoyance or the proximity of your lovers face from your neck.
“No, Lo’ak. It is getting late and we must get back,” you replied, finally coaxing him out from your neck.
The Na’vi boy in front of you pouted, tightening his grip on your waist as he looked up at you from your position on his lap. Your thighs were on either side of Lo’ak’s waist causing you to kneel as he rested in between your legs.
“Just a few m’re minutes,” he pleaded, diving back into your neck as he gently ghosted his lips against the soft flesh and puckered his lips against it.
You gave out a small sigh, hands going up to the back of Lo’ak’s head and into his braids. “Sure,” you replied, making your boyfriend's tail perk up and wag back and forth from behind him, “Later. When we go home.”.
Lo’ak let out a frustrated groan, burying his face into your neck again and taking a deep inhale of your scent before reluctantly pulling away. A pout made its way to his face again.
“Fine,” he mumbled, standing up with you still in his tight hold.
“Lo’ak!” You squealed out, increasing your grip on his shoulders so as to not fall from his arms. He was such a pain in your ass sometimes.
The boy smirked at your response, bringing you a bit higher in order to be face to face with him, “Yes?”.
“Put me down you big oaf!” You demanded, slightly glaring at your smirking boyfriend, “And don’t drop me either! Gently put me down.”. You knew how Lo’ak worked during his teasing moments, it was always too obvious what he was thinking when the thought came across his mind. There were too many times where he playfully let you go and wasn’t quick enough to catch you, resulting in you harshly landing on your ass.
“Sure thing, princess,” he obeyed, gently placing you down onto the Pandora floor and kissing the crown of your head. “Better?” He asked.
Simply rolling your eyes at him, you shook your head and began to walk away, hoping to find Spider or Tuk to spread the message that you needed to start heading back home before eclipse began.
“Ugh. Baby, wait!” Lo’ak called out, quickly gathering his bow before swiftly following after you, tail swishing behind him as he did so.
———
Everything that could go wrong, went wrong.
First, Lo’ak stumbled upon strange footprints, tracking them to the forbidden shack, a place where Jake warned you guys repeatedly to never go. Then, Jake ordered all of you to fall back and head back to the stronghold. After that, it was going smoothly. Kiri and Lo’ak were bickering back and forth about how much trouble the boy was going to be in while Spider and you trailed behind Tuk, before she was snatched up by an RDA Avatar. Lo’ak had thrown himself in front of you, hiding your much shorter frame from the enemy soldiers' sights as he bared his fangs and drew back his bow. But that didn’t last long until an unwelcome figure came up behind you and roughly pulled you back by your hair, making you yelp out in response. Which led to where you were now, struggling in an Avatar’s tight grip as Quaritch began to eye all five of you.
“Show me your hands boy,” he demanded, striding up to Lo’ak as the boy was forced to kneel before the man.
Lo’ak only lifted up both of his middle fingers to Quaritch as his response, causing the man to reach behind the boy and harshly pull at his queue. Lo’ak hissed out in response to the pain, growling as his eyes shot daggers into Quaritch’s skull.
You shouted out in protest, beating your hands against the soldiers skin in attempts to force them to let go of you. But that only caused their grip on your hair to tighten, you whimpering out in response.
Your boyfriend's ears drew back at your expression of pain, letting out a little snarl as you went quiet.
Anxiety erupted within Lo’ak’s body as his eyes darted to both of his sisters to Spider and to you, lingering on you the most. Which proved to be something he shouldn’t have done as Quaritch caught onto the boys staring, slowly turning around and following his gaze.
Fuck, you thought when Quaritch made eye contact with you, gulping at his blank yet wild amber eyes. Holy shit, I’m going to die.
The thought was so abrupt in your mind, scaring you with how fast it formed. Everything about Quaritch and the situation you were put into terrified you. You always felt safe around other Na’vi, even Neytiri at times. But there was just something about the armed soldiers surrounding you that made you want to crawl within yourself and never come out. Every move they made, made you think it was going to be your final moments on Pandora. You just hoped that if it was, they had the decency to take you out of eyesight and do it then. You didn’t want the others, especially Lo’ak and Tuk, to see the potential violent scene.
The minute Quaritch switched his attention from Lo’ak to you, the teen boy snarled at the man, challenging him to do anything to you. There was no way that Lo’ak would even allow Quaritch to touch a singular hair on your head. Over my dead fucking body, he internally seethed.
A cackle escaped the Colonel's lips, tightening his grip on the boy's queue before turning back to the five-fingered boy. An unsettling smile etched itself onto the man’s lips as he slightly bent down to face Lo’ak, ears pinning back to the sides of his head.
“That your girl boy?” He asked, a smirk evident on his face. Lo’ak wanted to claw that smirk off his face. How dare he speak of you? Of his mate? Quaritch was pushing at Lo’ak’s buttons and he knew it. And it was working.
“How does that even work? I mean, she’s so much smaller than you. Very fragile too,” he taunted, pulling the back of Lo’ak’s head back, making him cry out in pain. “Be a shame if-” he started, but was caught off by a loud growl and hiss.
“Shut the fuck up!” Lo’ak sneered, “Keep her out of your fucking mouth.”.
Another cackle left the Colonel’s mouth, tongue gliding over his new sharp teeth before unsheathing the knife from his hip, holding it up inches away from the teen boys chest.
“No! Please! Don’t hurt him!” You yelled out, thrashing around in the soldiers grasp, ignoring the stinging in your scalp with every tug.
“Aw, that’s sweet. She’s begging me to not hurt you,” Quaritch commented, eyes glued on Lo’ak’s face, studying his expression. “I wonder what other kinds of begging she can do,” he grinned, eyes dark and sinister.
“Fuck you!” Both Lo’ak and Spider yelled out, angry at the man’s comment. The words coming out of his mouth was disgusting. It may have been socially okay to speak about women like that back on Earth, but on Pandora, women were treated with respect and praised. Both boys held you dear to their hearts. Lo’ak and Spider were going to kill Quaritch when they got the chance for the way he talked about you.
Spider and you have always been close. Being the only teenage humans on Pandora was hard but you had each other to lean on. Over the years, he became extremely overprotective over you, especially when it regarded a certain blue skinned boy. He always viewed you as family. He’d do anything to ensure that you were safe if it was deemed necessary. You may not be his sister by blood but he sure as hell treated you as if you were. So, hearing Quaritch’s words, he wanted to rip the man’s head off his body and put it on a stick as a warning for whoever else dared to speak such obscenities about his sister.
Lo’ak and you have been together for nearly two years, being close friends for way longer than that. He loved you since the day he met you and always treated you the way you deserved to be treated, with gentleness and kindness and respect. Never had he ever thought such vile innuendos Quaritch had hinted at. The older man was disgusting for thinking such things about a seventeen year old girl, especially one that was already called for. In Na’vi culture, it was a disgrace for one to talk about any women that way, mated or not. Lo’ak was raised to respect the women in his clan and those he came into contact with. So, having Quaritch talk about you in a way that made you want to throw up and sparked intense anger within Lo’ak’s system, made him want to repeatedly stab the man in front of him and watch the life leave his eyes. No one was allowed to speak about you in such ways. Not if Lo’ak had anything to do with it.
“Don’t talk about her in that way,” Spider growled out, struggling in the grips of the two soldiers that held onto him. (It was impressive that the human boy needed two Avatar soldiers to hold him back. His strength was closely compared to a regular Na’vi’s.)
Quaritch let go of Lo’ak, allowing the original soldier who had him in his grip to return to his previous position. He quickly turned around to face the both of you, your stomach dropping at his gaze.
“What’s your name, sugar?” He asked, crouching down to your level. You wanted to throw up on the spot from the nickname. It made you sick.
“Don’t fucking talk to her!” Spider snapped, achieving in getting closer to you and in Quaritch’s eyesight.
Quaritch quickly glanced towards Spider, lips forming into a thin line.
Before Quaritch or any of the other soldiers could do anything, you answered his question robotically.
“(Y/N) Selfridge.”.
The man before you stilled. He hasn’t heard that name in a long time.
“You’re Parker’s kid?” He asked, eyes slightly wide in shock. He didn’t know that Parker had a special lady during his time on Pandora. The man never seemed to be the one that was interested in that kind of stuff. Too busy trying to get the rare metal from underneath the very ground he stood on.
“No,” you spat, disgust evident in your voice, “I’m his niece. He dragged his sister, my Mother, to this planet years before the Na’vi won the Great War. She died giving birth to me after the battle.”.
Your explanation struck something within Quaritch. Parker mentioned a sister in passing during their very few and limited conversations. He never thought that Parker would bring her along to Pandora nor did he ever think that he’d leave her on the foreign planet alone to give birth. But, yet, he did almost the same thing to Paz and his son, Miles.
“What about you boy?” Quaritch asked, nodding at the human boy next to you. There were very limited surnames that went through the Colonel’s head as he waited for the boy to speak, his being one of them.
“Spider…Socorro,” he replied, hesitancy laced in his voice.
Quaritch’s heart stopped, “Miles?”, he asked.
Spider pierced his lips, eyes darting across the older man’s face as he stared up at him, “No one calls me that anymore,” he responded.
Quaritch was shocked, to say the least. He’d thought that they’d send him on the next available ship back to Earth. Albeit him being only a couple of months old, he still thought that there’d be a possibility that his son would go back to his Fathers home planet.
“I thought they sent you back to Earth,” Quaritch commented, voice slightly shaking, void of all the cocky confidence he had prior.
“They can’t put babies in cryo, dipshit,” Spider spat, fists tightly balling up at his sides. Surely his ‘Father’ couldn’t be that stupid. He should’ve known that there was no way for Spider to go back to Earth, to a planet where he’d have no one. Pandora is and always will be Spider's home.
An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group as seconds passed by. Meeting his long lost son seemed to throw him off, messing up his mojo. It was clearly evident on his face and in his body language. He seemed more tense and unsure of what he was doing.
The silence was broken by a voice erupting from behind you, “What should we do, boss?”.
As soon as the emotions from Spider’s confession of his surname came, they left just as quickly. Quaritch was back to the way he was before. “Tie ‘em up. Looks like we got ourselves some prisoners,” he responded, preparing himself to call in his position to Ardmore.
The rest of the soldiers exclaimed in agreement, slapping restraints onto the children they had captured and throwing them all into a circle near the shack.
The soldier that had you in their grip had harshly thrown you to the floor, causing you to groan out from the hard contact with the forest floor. They laughed at your reaction, taking a few steps back to talk with his fellow comrades.
Lo’ak had quickly scurried to your side, hissing at the soldier that threw you like you were a rag doll. His body was positioned in front of yours in a crouch, the tense muscles of his back being the only thing you saw before he abruptly turned around and brought you into his embrace, checking over every inch of your skin to see if there were any new cuts or scrapes he should be worried about.
You didn’t say anything as you tried your best to pull yourself closer into your boyfriend's body, the restraints on your wrists preventing you from wrapping your arms around his neck in comfort. Your brain was still trying its best to process the previous events that occurred.
Lo’ak could sense the tension in your body and how your brain was scrambling to pull itself together. So he brought you closer into his arms, bringing his tied wrists up and over your body before settling them against your back, pulling you into his chest and lap.
“It’s alright, paskalin,” he reassured, tucking your masked face into his neck, “I got you. I got you.”.
———
When Spider had nudged you and turned his head ever so slightly to you, eyes darting behind you where Lo’ak stood a few feet behind, you knew that Neytiri and Jake arrived. It was the slightest change in pitch of a call that drew your attention to the trees. Neytiri, you realized. Lo’ak had taken it upon himself to teach you all the callings and ululatings his Sa’nok had come up with, telling you which meant what. You supposed his late night lesson all those months ago came in handy at this moment.
Your head harshly jerked back from the soldier pulling at your hair, once again. He didn’t like it when you guys would interact with each other and decided that pulling at your hair and Kiri’s queue was the best option to teach you to not speak to the others.
Fucking dick, you thought to yourself, restraining yourself from turning around in the soldiers grip and sinking your dull teeth into the flesh of his arm. See how he’ll like it.
A low growl was heard from behind you, Lo’ak glaring at the man who yanked at your hair. He was beginning to itch to choke out the man who had your beautiful and soft hair in his hold. It made him angry that someone like him was touching you in a way that brought you pain. Made him want to bring you into arms and hold you like a prrnen. He wanted to kill anyone and anything that caused you harm.
The distinct yip echoed throughout the forest yet again, your eyes darting to where the Na’vi woman could possibly be. Neytiri may have not liked you and you may have a very strained relationship but you were overjoyed in the moment that she and Jake were here to save the lot of you. You found yourself thanking your lucky stars and the Great Mother for the fierce couple.
From Spiders left, you could hear Kiri begin to pray aloud to Eywa, muttering her words only loud enough for the soldier and the boy beside you to hear. In retaliation to Kiri’s mumbles, the soldier began tugging at her sensitive queue, causing you and Spider to follow with the harsh tugs as he also held both of your hair in his grip.
“Shut up!” He harshly whispered, getting annoyed with the girl's constant rambling. The more Kiri prayed, the more he tugged and demanded her to shut her mouth. Eventually, his command was cut off with a sharp thwick and an arrow lodged into his skull.
Chaos erupted from around you as the man behind you dropped to the forest floor dead. Guns began to go off, forcing you to duck as Spider grabbed both you and Kiri and pushed forward. You ran behind Spider as he followed after Kiri, restrained hands on the lower part of her back to keep her moving forwards but she was pulled back by another soldier.
Spider stopped his movements, which caused you to run into his back, hands going out to grip his hips to steady yourself.
Everything was going too fast. You could barely process what happened to Kiri before she was by your side again, the soldier who grabbed her slumped over with an arrow in her chest. Gassy smoke was spraying everywhere as RDA soldiers ducked behind whatever they could to hide from the onslaught of arrows Neytiri was shooting at them from her advantage point. Before you knew it, Spider began to pull at your handcuffs, urging you to follow him and Kiri as they began to retreat into the thick foliage of the forest. Your brain barely had time to process it all before the three of you were hurriedly crossing over a connecting branch to another tree.
You felt it before you heard it. The hot air and stinging of your skin as you went flying forward into Spider's back before the two of you ultimately fell and tumbled down the hill underneath the overpass that was just blown up from whatever weapon a soldier shot at it. Pain was all you felt as you rolled down the hill, harshly making contact with all the sticks and rocks along the path. It hurt. Everything hurt.
You must’ve slammed your head up against a rock or the ground because the next thing you knew, it all went black.
———
Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as he ran and jumped over everything in his path, Tuktirey hot on his trail as she followed her older brother.
It all went by too quickly for him to properly digest what just happened. The only thing on his mind was you. He just hoped that Spider and Kiri were already somewhere safe with you in tow. Should’ve grabbed her when I had the chance, fuck.
Lo’ak came up to an opening, not planning on stopping until two blue bodies popped out of nowhere, causing Tuk to let out a scream and him to jump out of the way. But as quickly as his fear settled into his stomach, it went away just as fast.
“Daddy!” Tuk cried out, running into her Sempul’s arms, whole body shaking from the shock and adrenaline coursing through her tiny body.
“Lo’ak,” Neteyam breathed out, bringing him into a hug, thanking the Great Mother for safely bringing back his younger siblings to him. Lo’ak leaned into the hug the best he could, hands still tied and whole body on alert for you.
“Tuk!” Neytiri called out, both her and Kiri emerging from behind some bushes, taking her youngest into her arms as she kneeled down to the forest floor, “Thank you Great Mother! Oh, thank you!”.
Jake had brought his second son into a hug after cutting his restraints off his wrists. But, as Lo’ak began to count the bodies around him, his heart sunk into his stomach. Spider nor you were in sight. Which only meant one thing.
“Where’s (Y/N)? Spider?” He shakingly asked, already knowing the answer.
Kiri looked up to her brother with tears in her eyes and a quivering lip. “They took him. They took them both!” She sobbed, head shaking at the fact. If only she had followed after you both. If only her Sa’nok didn’t pull her away.
Everything around Lo’ak began to crumble before him. The only thing he truly loved was taken from him, from right between his fingers.
As Jake tried to reassure his daughter that both you and Spider were going to be okay, that you both were tough kids, Lo’ak darted back into the forest, retracing his footsteps.
“Lo’ak!” Neytiri called out, trying to get him to come back. She was about to follow after him but Neteyam beat her to it, quickly running after him.
Tears began to brim Lo’ak’s waterline as he pushed himself to go faster, not wanting to accept the fact that you were now in the enemy's hands. His mate was in Quaritch’s hands, in the clutches of the RDA. Who knows what they’d do to you and Spider once you get to their base. Please, Great Mother, please bring her back.
But as the sight of the helicopter came into view and began to ascend back up with their precious cargo, Lo’ak felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.
“No!” He cried out, “Bring her back!”.
He fell to his knees as the flying piece of metal got tinier and tinier in his line of sight, becoming a bot in the starry sky before disappearing completely.
You were gone. Gone without a trace. Lo’ak had no way of tracking which base they’d bring you to. He had no way of saving you as he knew his Father would never waste bullets or Na’vi lives over you and Spider. The only thing he could do was cry out to Eywa to bring you back or have Quaritch come back and take him with you. But his prayers fell on empty ears.
“Little brother,” Neteyam softly called out, finally catching up to the teen boy.
The eldest Sully knew of your relationship with his brother. He had gone to visit Spider in the lab one afternoon when he stumbled upon you and Lo’ak in quite the compromising position. The younger had to beg the older to not speak a word about what he saw, knowing that if he did, their Sa’nok would have both of your heads on a stick. Neteyam hadn’t uttered a word of it since then.
Neteyam tried his best to comfort his brother, but he knew that the only person that could comfort him was you. And you were gone. Lo’ak was going to be inconsolable until he got you back into his arms.
“She’s gone, Teyam,” Lo’ak whispered, fat tears running down his darkening cheeks, “She’s gone.”.
“I know, Lo’ak, I know,” Neteyam cooed, bringing his brother into his arms for some comfort, “I’m sorry.”.
The rest of the Sully family had met up with Neteyam and Lo’ak, hugging the boy. None of them knew of your relationship, keeping it a secret from everyone, minus Neteyam and Kiri. Neytiri and Jake thought he was distraught at losing two of his closest friends but they couldn’t be further from the truth.
That night, Lo’ak cried himself to sleep, wishing that you were in his arms and that he could bury his nose into your neck and inhale your calming, yet intoxicating, scent.
Eywa, why didn’t you bring her back?, he thought to himself as sleep began to consume him, Why didn’t you take me with her?.
4K notes · View notes
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she's going to love it.
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summary: after geto got that big x scar from toji, there's one thing he was thinking about... pairing: suguru geto x female reader content warnings: scar, cursing, not at all accurate to the timeline, let's just say he was fighting toji just because and riko is alive and well somewhere, fluff, reader is obsessed with suguru's scar, smut, shower sex, 18+ only, mdni, unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it ding dong), oral (f+m receiving), suguru has a big dick.
Masterlist
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"Fuck-" Suguru winces when he wakes up, blood all over his chest, unable to lift himself up. That son of a bitch Toji wounded him good, and he unfortunately had to have Gojo help him take him back to Shoko.
"There you go, you big baby." Gojo passes him to Shoko who immediately starts healing him.
Suguru's in pain, a high level of pain, but the moment Shoko finishes her work and Suguru sees the big scar on his chest, there's a grin on his face and he can't help but laugh a little bit.
"God, you masochist." Shoko comments.
After that, Suguru can't wait to get back home. Back home to you, waiting for his arrival, not knowing the surprise he has for you. He knows you'll still get sad, and you'll still worry, but when you realize that he's completely fine, oh boy. That's when the fun starts.
"I'm back," He greets, taking his shoes off.
"Suguru!" You gasp and walk over to him. "Shoko just called me, what the hell happened?"
He grins sheepishly, "Just got hurt in a fight, not a big deal."
You frown at your boyfriend, clearly he's hiding something.
"Okay, okay, fine. I'll tell you everything. But-"
"But??"
"-shower with me. I'll let you know then."
It's not like you're going to say no to him. Who's crazy enough to say no to a shower with their boyfriend-- sorry, their super hot boyfriend? So of course you say yes.
"Okay, I'm in the shower... Do I really have to face away from you?" You ask, "This is a little weird... what have you got up your sleeve, Sugu?"
You jump when you feel Suguru's hands on your naked hip, turning you around to face him. A loud gasp immediately escapes you, looking at and tracing the big X on his chest.
"This-" You almost tear up. "-Why are you smiling?? You got hurt really bad!"
"I know, but I'm fine now." He chuckles and shows you by stretching, "See? Completely fine, 100% healed."
You place your hands on his chest, feeling the scar even more. "I know, but-" You look down as you feel something poking you, "-are you seriously turned on right now???"
He smiles even wider, pulling your body plush against his as he kisses your neck. "So you're telling me if I reach down to kiss your pussy right now... you're not wet?"
"I-" Your face becomes red, "You-"
He licks a stripe up to the shell of your ear. "Well? Wanna bet?"
Biting your tongue, you can only look away. He smirks at your stubbornness and slowly makes his way down, leaving a trail of kisses on your body.
Your breath hitches when he breathes so close to your heat, clenching around nothing. "Sugu-" He grabs both your hands and holds it to your sides, not letting you touch him.
"Looks like I win." He looks at you and maintains eye contact before licking your mound with his tongue. One of your legs is hooked around his shoulder as he continues to eat you out, and you can't help but blush when he's looking at you so intently.
"Tastes so sweet, baby."
He's a fucking menace.
Before you can cum, he stands up and kisses you, letting you taste yourself and you put your hands on his chest again, feeling the different texture of his normal skin and his scar.
It's your turn to kneel down this time and fuck, Suguru looks amazing from that level. His scar somehow makes his shoulders and chest look wider, broader, and he fucking knows it.
Your tongue travels from his base to his tip, all the while maintaining eye contact like he did to you. He especially loves it when you can't take all of him, having to use your hands. As you swallow, Suguru moans and throws his head back, chest panting from the pleasure you're giving him. Seeing his chest heave like that...
Suguru pulls you up, kissing you and letting his hands roam around your body, stopping at your breasts to play with them and pinching your hardened nipples. "Mm, Suguru, please..."
He chuckles, knowing exactly what you need, and so he turns you around to face the wall, ass facing him.
"No, wait," You say meekly, "Not... not like this..."
"Hm?" He smirks, kissing your temple, "No? Then tell me what you want, princess."
Biting your lip, you finally give in. "I want to see you."
"That all?"
You gulp. "Your body. Your... your scar. Please."
"Good girl." He places a kiss on your shoulder before turning you around. "Arms around me, princess."
Suguru picks you up with your arms around his neck, your legs locking around his hips. His cock rubs against your wet pussy and you moan, happy to receive any kind of pleasure. He repeats the movement a few more times until you're finally begging him, "Suguru, please, I can't- ah!" You gasp when he pushes his tip in.
"So needy." Suguru smirks as he slides his whole length in, "My girl."
A mix of yours and Suguru's moans echo within the bathroom walls, and you hope the sound of the water might just muffle it down so neighbors won't complain.
You eye his scar, one hand going from his neck to trace it lightly with your nails. Your hand stops just above his heart. Maybe it's just you being delusional, maybe it's true, but it feels like you can feel his heartbeat better through the scar tissue.
"Ah! Suguru!" You throw your head back when he hits that one spot.
He moans in return, feeling you clenching around him. "Fuck- S-so tight..."
You're not sure how much longer you're going to last. You can't really control anything in your position, Suguru is manhandling you and you can't complain -- why would you? "Gonna- Hah-"
Your legs grip his waist even tighter, causing him to groan. "Not letting me cum anywhere else, heh?"
"S-shut up..."
Grinning, he grabs the back of your neck to kiss you, making your head spin. You're intoxicated by him - his aura, his gaze, his lips, his body, his goddamned scars... he's perfect in every way and it's driving you insane. Like a fucking god.
You let out a strangled moan, toes curling, and back arching when Suguru repeatedly hits that one spot again and again, letting you cum and milk him dry. Suguru follows shortly after, cumming deep inside you, his head buried in your neck as he catches his breath.
"Fucking perfect," Suguru whispers.
-----
Later that night while you and Suguru lay down in bed, you reach out to him to cuddle. He gladly accepts, pulling you to his side of the bed, head in his chest.
"Suguru..." You feel the tightness in your chest as you trace his scar again.
"I know," He kisses the top of your head. "I know, princess."
Lips trembling, you hold him even closer. "...Promise?"
"I promise."
And just like that, he'll try his best to not get any more scars. At least not as big.
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lovefrombegonia · 1 year
Text
Batfam hc: The reason Bruce doesn't get why Dick wanted to "stay away" from him after he reached his late teens or why Dick didn't wanna be in his shadow... it's coz Bruce just doesn't understand why any child would want to be away from their parents. Why would the child want to be away from his parents' embrace? Why?! He would never want to be away from Thomas and Martha if they were alive. He would always wanna be their little boy. He would always live under their protective, warm and safe shadow. He just doesn't understand. The truth is: He is still their, in crime alley, trying to stop those two bullets. He never truly got out of the crime alley. He probably never would...but that's ok with Bruce. Because he doesn't mind staying in the shadow of his dead parents.
Years later, Dick finally gets how and why Bruce is the way he is. He mourns for his father and protects him the best he can. Dick knows that even though he would never trade what he has with the family he found with Bruce and others surrounding him now...for anything else, including his beloved parents...he knows, that Bruce would chose Thomas and Martha over them in a heartbeat. And it hurts. It hurts him SO BAD. But he will endure this hurt. Because he also knows that Bruce loves him and his brothers and sisters and everyone else consisting of their mess of a family.
Maybe, that's why...when the timeline shenanigans happened, and Bruce was left at the night of tragedy when Martha and Thomas were shot dead in the past, Dick, in the present timeline, was ready...ready to disappear from the present life. And he could see the same fear but silent acceptance in his siblings' eyes too. They held each other tightly. Jason, Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Stephanie, and Duke...all of them, a small part of them were resenting Bruce but their selfless love for him wouldn't let them hate him. After all...how could you hate a lost child. They waited...with Oracle in their comms, her soothing voice telling them again and again how much she loved them all. That, no matter what, she would find a way to remember them all, and bring them back. Dick held Damian close to his chest the tightest. Small and brave Dami, so full of love despite his painful past. Dick wanted to say--
A burst of energy was felt behind him...empty space crackled to life. A portal opened. A man walked out. His cowl and cape soaked in rain.
Bruce broke down. He started crying and then he started laughing. Sorry for letting you down. Sorry for scaring you all. Sorry for letting mommy and papa die. Sorry for loving his present more than his past. He loves his parents. He always would. But he loves his children more. He loves them all. Bruce no longer wanted to stay in his parents' shadow. Now, he just wanted to become a home for his kids. What is a home? A home is a place, when you have nowhere else to go, they have to accept you. And home had no right to abandon those who looked his way for support. He has to be there. He has to be a home. He didn't want to be anything else atp.
Dick held Bruce as tightly as he held Damian. Damian kept say, "Baba, Baba!" while trying to hold back tears. Jason held Bruce's cape tightly, as if he would disappear. He was still in shock. Cassandra cradled Bruce's head in her arms. Stephanie had her arms around Bruce and Jason. Tim was wiping Bruce's tears even though he himself was crying. Duke held Bruce's shoulder. His hand was shaking. He didn't want to lose another father figure. The thought had crossed his mind what his life would be if Batman had disappeared. Would it be better or worse? He decided that he didn't care. In the end, he didn't want to lose Bruce from his life. All of them could hear Barbara's quiet whimpers. Bruce tried to hold all of them in embrace.
A child finally walked out of the crime alley.
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