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xxchumanixx · 2 days

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Uno pt. 2

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, smut, pure filth I'm sorry, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), fluff, a little angst Word count: 7.937 Authors Note: Oh my holy freaking goodness. I don't even know how the hell that happened. I promised smut, this is pure filth I fear. You can read it as a standalone, it'll definitely work. I'm sorry again, I'm gonna bury myself somewhere far away now. Also, I feel like this is a bit different than what I usually write when it comes to smut, I still hope you'll like it, though! And it's not fully proofread yet... I'm sorry - but I love you guys, just wanted to say it. Read part one here

Enjoy I guess?

"We should play Uno more often."

"You think so?" you asked, nibbling at his bottom lip.

At your question he simply smiled and closed the gap between you again. He crashed his lips onto yours, giving you no chance to escape. The kiss started out as a firm, claiming kiss, but it soon turned heated and hungry. His hand on your neck held you close while his other hand gently rested against your hip, fingers lightly caressing the skin underneath.

You sighed into the kiss, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him, trying to feel more of him. Fingers brushing through his hair, you lightly tugged at the short strands. Your skin burned where he touched it, only fueling the fire inside of you.

A low groan escaped him as you tugged his hair, the sound muffled as he kept claiming your lips.

You tried to get even closer, chest pressing against his, as you tugged on his hair again, wanting to hear him make that beautiful sound again. Your hips started to move on their own accord, brushing against his growing erection repeatedly.

Bucky couldn’t help the groan escaping him, as you brushed against his erection. One hand moved from your waist back to your hips, his fingers gripping the flesh hard enough to leave marks in the morning, helping you to maintain the movement. A dark possessiveness took over the super soldier - you’re his now, no one else’s. He kissed you harder, hungrily, demanding all of your attention.

Your heart hammered, as your fingers danced over his neck, wandering further down, before they fumbled for his shirt, brushing underneath and over the muscles of his stomach. A dreamy sigh escaped your lips, always having dreamed about these muscles. You moaned at the way he grips you, at the way his bulge brushed your most sensitive point.

Your fingers slid under his shirt, feeling the muscles of his toned body.

“Like what you feel, doll?”

Biting your lip, you took a moment to admire. "Shut up, Barnes." you said, before pressing your lips to his again. Your hands roamed his broad chest, feeling the ridges of his muscles, his skin fluttering the slightest bit under the touch.

He chuckled at your words, but the laugh soon turned into a groan as your hands explored his chest and stomach, his muscles reacting involuntarily to your touch. Your soft hands against his skin caused goosebumps on his body and his breathing hitched. He pulled you impossibly closer and moved to kiss from your lips down to your neck, biting and licking his way down to your collarbone.

You shivered involuntarily, a sigh on the edge to a whimper leaving your lips parted. You couldn’t concentrate for a moment, hips stopping their movement as your mind got fuzzy with his lips on your neck.

He started grazing his teeth over your skin, before biting down, nipping at the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. His large, calloused hand moved to the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up as his palm pressed against your side. His other hand held you close, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your side, as his thumb traced maddening circles over your hipbone.

You swallowed, trying to concentrate again. A whimper left your lips, as he bit into the skin, breath faltering. "James." you breathed out hungrily, preferring his first name to his nickname, because it sounds so much more intimate. "Please..."

He could hear the needy quality to your plea, and he almost growled in response, biting down a little harder on your sensitive skin. “I thought you’d never ask, doll.” He replied and his hand moved to your hair, tugging it softly until you exposed your neck to him. He pressed a gentle kiss against your skin, teasing you before biting down hard again.

You moaned rather loudly, trying to stifle it though, in embarrassment. You didn't want your neighbors to hear, not when the walls were paper thin. Your hips started to move again, rubbing against his growing bulge, looking for some friction.

Bucky chuckled and bit down on your lower lip, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin before letting go again, a smug expression on his face. “Trying to keep quiet, doll?” He said with an undertone of teasing and grabbed your hips, his hands pressing into them, keeping you from moving as he wanted to make you desperate for it. He placed gentle kisses over your jaw and neck, trailing down to your upper chest, shirt tugged down.

You breathed heavily, whimpering at him stopping your movements. "Why do I get the feeling I won't be able to be quiet?" You asked breathlessly, looking down at where his face was buried in your chest.

Bucky pulled back just so he could look up at you, a teasing smile on his face. "Would you want to be quiet though, doll?" He asked, giving you room to answer truthfully. He wanted to hear you moan and whimper, to see you come undone for him, only him.

"No." you breathed out, cheeks turning pinkish, swallowing. "No I don't. Make me scream, make me shout your name, whatever you want, James. I'm yours for the taking."

Bucky smirked as he heard your words, his eyes gleaming with possessiveness. The way you said his name was like a spell, but at your last comment he suddenly moved you around in his lap, grabbing you tight, as he stood up, holding you against him. He walked over to the couch, placing you down on it. He moved to hover above you, his knees between your legs and arms propping him up. "You’re mine, doll," he said and leaned down, his breath hot on you as he whispered, his lips barely brushing yours. "I’d prefer to make you scream my name, though."

A shiver ran through you, eyes fluttering closed at the prospect. You could feel the way your underwear got sticky, arousal doubling at his seductive words. And at his declaration that you’re his. "I'm yours." You confirmed, eyes opening to meet his again. His own were dark, pupils blown wide. Still, they were the most beautiful you had ever seen.

“Good,” he replied, his voice a husky rumble against your skin. His hand moved to your face, cupping your cheek as his thumb slowly traced your mouth. He couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine as you confirmed that you’re his. When his lips brushed over yours it’s a gentle, almost teasing touch. “I’d love to see you scream and moan my name, doll.” He murmured and his teeth slightly bit your lower lip, before he deepened the kiss.

You returned the kiss, only parting for a moment to breathe out "Than make me, James.", before you pressed your lips back to his. Your hands found his neck and hair, tugging him closer, as your legs tried to press him further against you, especially his lower half.

Bucky could feel your desperation and your need, your body pressing closer against him as his tongue slid between your lips. When your tongues met, it’s all soft moans and whimpers, breaths quickly growing irregular and heavy. One hand grabbed your thigh, slowly pushing it against your body as he moved closer to you. It was all heated touches and hungry kisses.

You feel the way he tried to control himself. Your heart fluttered at how thoughtful and caring he was, but you needed him. "Don't hold back." you pleaded in-between kisses. "Please don't, James."

Bucky let out a shaky breath when you pleaded with him, unable to deny you anything, especially when you used his first name. There was this deep growl-like sound coming from his chest, as he dived back into the kiss, his hands and lips becoming hungrier and harder. He couldn’t help the possessiveness that surged through him as he pressed himself against you, leaving no space between his body and yours.

Moaning, your hips bucked into his, rubbing against his erection. His metal hand was a cool contrast to your heated skin, and you couldn't wait to feel it somewhere else. Your legs closed around his waist, heels digging into his back, as you tried to deepen the pressure of his erection against your most sensitive part, trying to tell him to do something.

Bucky groaned into the kiss as he felt your legs wrap around his waist, he’s barely holding onto his control as you moaned and arched your back off the couch, needing him more than anything. His fingers dug into your thighs, his right hand moving towards your lower hip to keep you still as he lifted himself up a little more. “Doll,” he managed to breathe out, his voice rough and filled with need “I don’t want to hurt you…”

"You won't." you said confidently, looking up into his beautiful eyes, as your fingers traced his muscular chest. "You couldn't, even if you wanted to."

He couldn’t help the shiver when your fingers traced his chest, and a deep sound escaped him, his head dropping down to press a kiss against your neck. All the while he pushed his hips closer against your still-clothed core, his breathing growing more heavy and uneven. “So good to me…” - he mumbled against your skin, almost as if he was thinking out loud.

You shivered in anticipation and delight, tilting your head to grant him better access, as you inhaled shakily, only to moan when his hips met yours. "More, James." you breathed out. "I need more."

Bucky couldn’t resist your plea, he craved you just as much, if not even more. You’re like a drug, one he couldn’t get enough off. He let out another deep groan, the sound vibrating against your skin, as his teeth found the sensitive spot on your neck and he bit you again, soothing the bite after with his tongue. At the same time, his left hand slipped between you, his fingers slowly finding your clothed core.

Your breathing faltered and you whimpered, bucking into him. You grew more impatient the more time he took for his fingers to finally please you, to finally meet you where you needed them the most.

Bucky could almost feel how impatient you became, your hips bucking against his and your breath hitching when he bit and soothed another spot on your sensitive neck. He let out an almost-smug chuckle, as he lifted his head and looked down at you. “Getting impatient, doll?” he asked, his voice still raspy from all the teasing. His fingers finally touched your clothed clit, and rubbed light circles over it, his other hand holding your hip still.

You wanted to respond something smugly, but you were rendered speechless, as his fingers finally rubbed your clit, instead tearing a throaty moan from you. Your lips were parted, eyes locked onto his, as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Unable to respond anything, you gave him all the confirmation he needed.

Bucky let out a low chuckle, his teeth showing in a feral smile as he listened to your moans. He kept rubbing slow, light circles over your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves, but with not enough pressure to really satisfy you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown as he looked down at your flushed face, enjoying the way you looked right then. “Look so pretty like this, so needy…” he muttered, as he moved up to press a kiss against your lips again.

You whimpered at his words into the kiss, pressing yourself against his hand, trying to increase the pressure through your jeans. You needed him more than you needed the air to breathe.

Bucky chuckled lowly, enjoying your eagerness to feel more, especially when his name slipped past your lips, in an almost needy whine. He could feel his own need growing, just as evident through the rough fabric of his sweatpants, but he was determined to keep teasing you until you couldn’t keep begging him any longer. “Look at you,” he muttered “so needy for my touch, for me…” His metal thumb pressed down, rubbing a little rougher, yet still too slow to really satisfy.

You gritted your teeth, trying not to show him just how desperate you were for him to finally take you, claim and mark you as his. But your body betrayed you, as you jolted into his hand, whimpering and moaning his name again. "Please, James."

Bucky can hear the desperation in your voice, and although it was a good sound he also didn’t want to make you wait too long. The super soldier leaned down until his head was hovering right next to your ear. “Please what? Tell me exactly what you want, doll.” he asked huskily, teeth nipping your earlobe before he started to trail kisses down your neck again.

Your breathing stuttered, his breath hot on your skin, goosebumps erupting. "Please," you managed to get past your lips, as you surrendered to him fully. "Please fuck me, James."

Bucky couldn’t help the low rumble that came from his chest, his body shivering at your words - you surrendered to him, fully, and he wanted to take care of you. His control was almost out of the window. He lifted his mouth back to yours, the kiss almost hard and punishing this time. “Good girl…” he muttered between kisses. “I’ll take good care of you.”

"Please." you whined into the kiss, bucking into him needily, fingers tugging at his hair. "I want you so badly."

Bucky lifted his head just enough to look down at you, eyes dark with lust. “Then you’ll have me,” he muttered. “And you’ll take all of me, won’t you?” He leaned back down to your neck, biting down on the same spot that he had bitten down on a few minutes ago. “I need to hear you say it.” he whispered, and you could feel his teeth vibrate against your skin from his words.

You whimpered again. "I'll take all of you." you told him. "Whatever you give me, I'll take it like the good girl I am."

Bucky let out a low groan, his teeth and tongue soothing the new mark right where he left another, your name leaving his mouth in a low moan. “Oh, you’re too perfect…” he muttered. “You will take care of me, won’t you? No one else, doll.” As if to emphasize his words he bit down on the other side too, sucking at the mark harder to make sure another bruise would form, so everyone knew who you belonged to.

"No one else, but me, James." you confirmed. "I will take care of you, but please, finally do something."

Bucky leaned back until he was looking down at your flushed face again, lips parted, and cheeks flushed with arousal and impatience. Just the sight of you was enough to make his breathing speed up. His hands moved towards the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath and caressing the skin on your sides. “Then let’s get this off of you first so I can leave my mark on more of your beautiful skin.” He muttered and slowly started to pull the shirt up, giving you time to tell him to stop.

Instead of stopping him, though, you urged him on. "Rip it apart, if you need to." you told him. “Just get rid of it, already."

Bucky couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him at your words, the sound almost like a growl, his eyes fluttered with lust as you gave him permission. In one swift movement, he ripped the shirt apart, his fingers making quick work of it until it was lying in shreds. Once the ruined shirt was carelessly thrown to the side, he took a moment to look over your bare torso, the hunger in his eyes increasing.

You couldn't help but blush, suddenly feeling insecure. What if he didn't like what he saw? What if you weren’t enough? Biting your lip, you tried not to let your insecurities shine through.

Bucky could sense your growing insecurity, though, tilting his head a little as he watched you closely, so that his next words would be believed. “God, you are so beautiful…” He muttered, voice low and rough. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…” His fingers moved again, trailing along the skin on your body, his gaze following the movement carefully, as if trying to commit this picture forever into his memory.

You shivered involuntarily, cheeks reddening even more at his words. Your heart fluttered, and you swallowed. "I-" you start, cutting yourself off. "I can't express how beautiful you are, too, James." You then said, trying to return the compliment, as you watched his movements.

Bucky’s eyes flickered from your body to your eyes, he could hear the sincerity in your voice, and yet he couldn’t help the insecurity he was feeling too. He was just as scared that you may not like what you see once he takes off his shirt and reveals the mess that was his body. For a moment he hesitated, unsure of what to do, but he wanted you to feel comfortable. “Is it okay if I take this off, doll?” - he muttered, tugging a little at his shirt.

"Please!" you whimpered, growing more impatient. "Yes, take it off."

Bucky let out a breathless chuckle, your impatience showing, and your eagerness for him to just get rid of the shirt, was almost endearing. The super soldier lifted himself enough to quickly take off the shirt, tossing it to the side before lowering himself back on top of you. Now his metal arm was on display, the various scars on his body too, but his eyes were focused on your face, observing your reaction carefully.

Your eyes trailed over his body, the various scars and his metal arm, and you couldn't help but be mesmerized by it. Your fingers traced over his chest, eyes following them. "See, you're beautiful." you said, watching his skin ripple under your touch.

Bucky shivered as your fingers trailed over his skin, goosebumps arising in their wake, and his breathing faltering from your touch. No one had ever looked at his body the way you are, so full of awe and appreciation, not even once has someone called him beautiful - until now. “All the scars… the arm…” he muttered lowly “you don’t find them repulsive…?” he asked hesitantly.

Shaking your head, you looked back into his eyes. "No." you told him sincerely. "They're proof of how strong you are, of what you survived. You're a survivor, James. A strong and beautiful survivor."

Bucky’s eyes flickered all over your face for a long moment, almost as if trying to find signs of lies there, but your gaze was nothing but sincere. He found it hard to believe you, it sounded foreign to hear you calling his scars - the very ones he was so ashamed of - beautiful.

“Doll…” he muttered quietly before he lowered his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss once again. He could feel his need to have you grow more with each second, the hunger growing more and more consuming.

You returned the kiss, the hunger inside of you flaming up once again. You were proud that he trusted you so much, to be able to see him in all his glory, with his scars and imperfections. He was perfect the way he was. "You're perfect." you muttered in-between kisses, fingers brushing over his stomach to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at the material. "And I'm sure what's underneath those is perfect as well."

Bucky groaned as you brushed your fingers over his lower stomach, so terribly close to where he needed you, yet you avoided the hard shape growing in the front. He could feel himself grow more needy, your words of him being perfect and your fingers so, so close yet not close enough, making him lose any restraint he had left. He pressed his mouth hard against yours in a possessive kiss, almost as if trying to shut you up from teasing him even more.

You chuckled into the kiss, before your hand cupped the bulge of his erection, silently in awe at how big it felt. You massaged him through the fabric, silently begging to hear his moans.

Bucky growled into the kiss, the sound coming from deep inside his chest, breaking the kiss as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, to hide his flushed face and control his breathing. He could feel his control slipping, his hips stuttering as you massaged his cock through the fabric and a low, almost desperate groan escaped his lips, muffled by the skin on your neck.

You massaged him harder, wanting to hear him again. His breath was hot on your neck, almost distracting you, but you kept going, before your hand slowly slipped into his boxer briefs, cupping his erection.

Bucky’s lips parted on a strangled groan as you moved into his boxers, his hips almost automatically jerking into the touch, seeking and craving the contact. His breathing was labored as he pressed kisses against your neck, desperately trying to muffle the needy, breathy moans leaving his mouth with his teeth and tongue. His left hand pressed into the side of the couch to support his weight as he gave in to the pleasure of your touch.

You chuckled lowly, proud at the way he reacted to your touch, but you wanted to hear him. "Don't hold back." you told him, tugging at his hair with a quiet moan of your own. "I want to hear you." Your fingers brushed over his erection and gathered his pre-cum, before gripping it tightly, starting with slow strokes.

Bucky groaned lowly, his entire body shivering involuntarily with the touch and your words, the way you tugged at his hair and stroked him just like those words he whispered to you earlier. “Doll…” he muttered, trying to control himself so that he didn’t go completely mad, but you were making it so damn difficult. His body was practically a live wire right then. “You’re making me desperate.” he almost moaned.

"Good." you breathed out, stroking his cock faster. "Since you won't get feral on your own, I'll help you until you will. Don't hold back, James. Let go and do whatever you want with me - with my body."

Bucky growled lowly, your words and touch doing things to his mind. “You sure you want that, doll?” he murmured lowly, as his teeth clamped down on your neck in warning, his hips already snapping forwards into your touch before he could stop it. “Because I won’t hold back.”

"Then don't."

Bucky’s teeth bit down harder on your neck for a moment, leaving another mark on the already abused skin, before he teared his mouth from your neck, the sound of ragged breaths leaving his lips. In one swift movement, he pushed himself off you, his hands grabbing the sides of your pants and pulling them off your legs, before tossing them away. As soon as they were gone, his head lowered again, his mouth sucking and biting his way down your body.

Your back arched in pleasure and anticipation, eyes following his movements, pupils blown wide. Your breathing fastened, chest rising rapidly.

Bucky’s mouth reached your core, his metal hand pressing on your hip to keep you down, as he lapped at your wet entrance, letting out a deep groan. He could smell your arousal, so deep that it was nearly enough to drive him mad. His tongue lapped at the slick that had already built up, his eyes looking up at your flushed face and parted lips, as you lay back.

You yelped, hands gripping his hair tightly, moaning at the way his tongue pleased you. Your eyes found his, and your body shivered at the intimacy with lips parted, back arching.

Bucky moaned at your taste, his tongue exploring your depths, his breath hot and heavy as he breathed through his nose in an attempt to take all of you in. Your whines and moans were the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, your sweet taste made him nearly crazy with want and need. As his mouth took its fill on you, his eyes never left yours.

"Fuck!" you breathed out, already on the edge, but refusing to give in just yet. Your legs quivered, his name leaving your lips in a strangled moan. "Fuck, why are you so good at this?"

Bucky couldn’t help but groan lowly, the sound vibrating against your mound as he continued his ministrations. His mouth and tongue took turns in pleasing you, his metal fingers dug into your skin to keep you in your place, but also to let his desire for you show. His name left your lips, the sound of it so full of moans and whines and pleasure, was almost enough to send him over the edge too.

"I need more." you breathed out, followed by a deep moan, as your back arched again, body pushing into him in search for more. "Please, James, I need your fingers. Please!"

Bucky let out a feral groan at your pleads, knowing he wouldn’t be able to deny you of it. Not when you sounded so pretty. Without hesitation he pushed his index finger in, stretching you out and curving it just right until he grazed over the spot that made you see stars. “There, doll?” he muttered, voice low and heavy with desire.

You cried out in pleasure, not able to hold off any longer, as you came all over his tongue and finger, breathing out his name like a mantra, whole body shivering and quivering. You weren't even able to answer his question properly, suddenly ashamed for coming so fast.

Bucky didn’t miss the shame in your eyes, he could sense it and it made him pull his mouth from your core, looking at you for a moment, before crawling back up your body. His mouth claimed yours in a deep kiss, making sure you tasted yourself on his lips, before pulling back again and looking down at you with a look that was full of desire and affection. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, doll.” he muttered.“It shows me that I’m pleasing you.”

"Fuck," you breathed out, trying to catch your breath. "And not too short." You couldn't help but agree with him on that. "I don't think I've ever come this fast before. You’re not only good at shuffling cards, Bucky."

Bucky let out a breathless chuckle, his eyes dancing over your flushed face and body, still feeling that same need for you as before, but now it was mixed with affection. "I am honored.” he murmured, a smile on his face - “I could make you come again if you want?” His left hand traced the skin on your stomach, the cool metal of his fingers providing a stark contrast to your overheated skin.

"Yes!" you let out in a needy whine, eyes fluttering closed, as your body shivered. "But I want your cock, James. Please."

Bucky groaned as you pleaded for him like that, the sound turning feral, as the words left your mouth. "That's what you want?" he muttered.

"Yes!" you almost screamed, eyes meeting his, as your bottom lip quivered. "Yes, please!"

Bucky chuckled; his voice almost shaky as he tried to reign in his own self-control. "You're a needy one, doll." he muttered. "Let me have you."

You blushed the slightest bit, not able to deny his words. "Please James, take me. Do whatever you want to me." you told him breathlessly, fingers dancing over his heated skin. "Please, let go, stop holding back."

There was something about the way you pleaded, that made something inside Bucky snap. His hand gripped your hip, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave more bruises, as he turned you onto your stomach. "Like this, doll?"

You wanted to nod but couldn't in this position. "Yes!" you whimpered instead, lifting your ass up in his direction, trying to tease him. "Please."

Bucky pushed his mouth to your neck, biting down on the same spot as before, adding another mark to the already bruised skin. He pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, taking out his hard cock and giving it a few strokes.

Your body shivered in delight, anticipation making your skin tingle.

“Are you ready, doll? Are you ready for me to claim you?” he breathed lowly into your ear; his own breath heavy. His mouth pressed a trail of soft kisses along the back of your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Yes, I am, James." you confirmed, pushing your ass more in his direction. "Claim me."

Bucky didn't hesitate even for a second, as you confirmed what he wanted to hear, slowly pushing his cock through your folds, gathering your arousal on it.

You wanted to turn, wanted to see him, but you held back, patiently waiting for him to finally enter you, claiming you as his.

The groan Bucky let out as he lined himself up with your entrance was guttural, as he pushed only the head inside, still a fucking tease.

You moaned in return, feeling his tip where you needed him the most. Just the feeling of him this close, made you shiver and your heart race.

Bucky moaned lowly in response, the sound sending vibrations through his body and straight into yours. His left hand reached up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers gently tangling in your hair, before pulling you into a deep kiss, his mouth claiming yours.

You moaned into the kiss, feeling him slowly push further inside. He was big, thick and felt so good. You arched into him, back brushing his, trying to make him push deeper.

Bucky broke the kiss with a low groan, as you arched your back, the way your body fit against his perfectly made him unable to hold back. He pushed deeper, until he was buried completely inside of you. "You feel perfect, doll.” he muttered breathlessly into your skin “You feel perfect.”

Your breathing faltered, as you felt him so deep inside of you. "You're so big." you moaned, already out of breath. "So big and perfect."

Bucky's breathing was heavy in your ear, as he held there for a moment, taking a moment to allow you to adjust to the size. "Doll…" he breathed out lowly before his mouth claimed your neck, kissing, sucking and biting as he slowly started to move.

Hot pleasure shot through you, and you moaned his name, gripping his thigh as best as you could, trying to hold onto something. "James!" you breathed out. "Fuck, you feel so good!"

Bucky didn't reply, his mind already too cloudy with pleasure to even think, but his body responded by gripping you harder and setting a harder, deeper pace for his thrusts. His mouth never parted from your neck or shoulder, as he gave you the same treatment as before, leaving marks to claim you as his.

You moaned, your whole body tingling with the pleasure he brought you. You wanted to look at him, tried to turn your head to get a glimpse at him, and you moaned again, as he hit that sweet spot that turned your body to jelly.

Bucky groaned as you turned your head, his mouth trailing over your shoulder and back, as he pushed his face further into your skin. The new angle had him bury further into you, his hips stuttering as he hits that spot inside you, a low and needy groan leaving his lips as his eyes fluttered shut. "You feel so good, doll.” he muttered. “So, so good.”

"Fuck!" you breathed out, already on the verge of another orgasm, walls fluttering around him, as your body shook with each thrust. "You're fucking me so good, James. So good."

Bucky's grip on your body tightened as he felt you tighten around him, the sound of your moans music to his ears. The next thrust landed directly on that spot again, his teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder to hold himself back a little longer. “I’m making you feel good, doll?” he muttered, his voice almost needy as he breathed heavily into your skin.

"Fuck yes!" you whimpered, crying out his name, as he hit that spot again. "Yes, so good, James!" Tears burned in your eyes, tears of pure pleasure. "Fuck yes!"

Bucky moaned lowly as your walls gripped him tighter, his left hand reaching up to gently wipe away a tear from your cheek, before gripping your hair. “You’re so pretty like this, doll.” he muttered breathlessly. “Completely undone because of me. Such a pretty doll, aren’t you?”

"Yes, I am." you confirmed, moaning. "I won't last much longer, James. I- I'm about to come!" you warned him, crying out in pleasure, trying to hold back from coming again already.

Bucky didn’t slow down as his hips continued their pace, his moans getting more and more feral as he chased his own release. “Let go, doll.” he muttered. “I want you to come undone on me again. I want to hear you say my name. I want to feel you.”

Whimpering, the coil snapped at his words. You cried out his name, shouted it into the air, as you came, clenching down on him, your whole body shaking in pleasure. Your vision was blurry, mind foggy, as the pleasure continued to curse through you.

Bucky groaned as your walls clenched down on him, his thrusts got harder and harder, as he was losing his rhythm. His breaths were coming out faster and more ragged now, and he was clearly getting close himself. “There you go, doll.” he groaned. “You’re doing so well. I’m almost... I’m almost there-”

"Come for me, Bucky." You said, calling him by his nickname. "Come for me, paint my walls with your seed, please. I need it."

Bucky couldn’t stop the whimper that left his lips at your words, his body growing tense at them. Without another word his hips stilled, his mouth biting down hard on your shoulder as he came, his release painting your insides. “Doll-” he breathed out, his mind completely blanking out as the pleasure took over his senses.

You could feel him filling you up with his spend, the feeling erupting goosebumps all over your skin. "You feel so good." you murmured, still trying to come down from your high. "So good. I love you." Your body stiffened, as you realized what you just said. You confessed your feelings to him in your hazy state, only realizing when it was too late. You silently cursed yourself, desperately hoping he was too zoned out to hear you. What if he didn't return the feelings? What if he only wanted to fuck and nothing more? Even when he said you’re his, that didn't mean he had feelings for you, too, right?

Bucky didn’t pull out yet, still slumped over you, his breathing heavy in your ear. His mind was too dizzy with pleasure to even notice you’d confessed your feelings to him. His mouth continued its trail of kisses and bites, as he slowly started to come down from his high. "You’re so pretty." he murmured after a moment, his teeth grazing over the same spot on your shoulder that he’d bitten into before.

You swallowed, realizing he didn't hear you. Your heart pounded faster, as it slowly started to hurt. Did you want him to know? Did you really want to risk losing him, by confessing your feelings? You didn't react to him calling you pretty, too caught up in your confusing thoughts, as your body stayed still under him.

Bucky pulled back slightly, noticing the way your body was lying completely still. He looked down at you, the fog in his mind finally starting to clear a little. His breathing was still heavy, but just enough that he could speak without having to gasp for air. “Doll.. are you okay?” he wanted to know; his tone concerned as his eyes looked over your body. “What’s wrong?”

"I-" you started but cut yourself off. "What does this mean to you?" you asked instead, swallowing as you stared at the wall with tears blurring your sight, the cards still littered on the table in front of it. "You said I'm yours, but what does this really mean to you? Did you just want to fuck and then go on like nothing happened? Because I can't go on after this and pretend it didn't happen."

Bucky could tell there was something wrong as soon as he heard your voice. The tone you used made him pull back a little more, his eyes searching your face as he was starting to realize that something was upsetting you. He didn’t answer your question and instead asked one of his own. “Doll... Where’s this coming from? What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You swallowed, biting your lip. It was now or never. "I have feelings for you, Bucky." you confessed quietly, refusing to look at him. "And if this was a one-time thing, then I don't know what to do to forget it."

Bucky blinked, his eyes widening in surprise. He stared down at you for a long moment before slowly pulling out of you. He was still processing your confession, his mind starting to clear up a little more with the way your voice shook as you spoke. Once he was free, he gently flipped you to your back, forcing you to look at him, his expression almost nervous as he gazed down at you. “You… you what?”

You shrinked inwardly, trying to cover your naked body with your hands involuntarily, as you swallowed down the tears. "I have feelings for you, Bucky." you repeated shakily, fearing he'd reject you, regret what you just did.

Bucky’s expression shifted into one of disbelief, his eyes still wide from shock as he stared down at you. “Doll…” he breathed out, and for a moment he was speechless. He’d expected just about anything, but not this. Never had he even thought of the possibility that you might feel the same way about him. His heart was pounding heavily in his chest and a deep blush spread across his face, as he realized his feelings weren’t one-sided.

You noticed the way his cheeks flushed, and you were scared it was because he didn't know how to reject you, without breaking your heart. "It's okay, if you don't feel the same way." you said, biting your lip to stop the tears from falling.

Bucky’s eyes widened in shock yet again as you spoke, your words finally snapping him out of his reverie. “Wait- wait, doll, no.” he stopped you, gently grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. “You don’t understand at all. I’ve been... I’ve been in love with you for a long time now, doll. It just never occurred to me that you might feel the same way about me.”

Your eyes widened in shock, almost matching the size of his. "What?" you breathed out, trying to process his words. When they finally hit, a tear managed to escape. "Why wouldn't I?" you asked him. "You're the most perfect being on planet earth, Bucky. I love you."

Bucky gently wiped the tear away with his thumb, his expression so soft it was nearly melting in front of your eyes. “Sweetheart…” he muttered tenderly. “I don’t deserve you. You don’t even know what I’ve done. I’m not a good man, doll. You should love someone like Steve instead.”

You huffed, shaking your head. "I wouldn't want good boy Steve, I want you, Bucky. I don't care what you've done, I don't care what people might say about you. None of what you did was your fault. And I won't ever - do you hear me - ever, blame you for it. You're the man I want, and I don't care if you deem yourself a good man or not, because I certainly do."

Bucky swallowed, his own eyes getting a little misty as he stared down at you. You’d just spoken the words he’d needed to hear for him to feel at least a little less guilty about his past. You didn’t blame him for the things he did. You loved him despite of the fact that he’d been a cold-blooded killer. “Darling…” he murmurs again, overwhelmed. “I don’t... I don’t know what to do with all this love you’re giving me, doll.”

"Inhale it and lock it in your heart." you told him, cupping his cheek with one hand, gently stroking it. "You deserve all the love one could give, and nothing less. Do you understand? And I'm willing to give you as much of that as you need."

Bucky closed his eyes as you caressed his cheek, leaning into the touch as he let out a shuddering breath. A moment later his arms carefully wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him until the two of you were pressed up tightly against each other. “And what if I don’t ever want to let you go?” he murmured against your clavicle as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"Then don't." you told him, nuzzling your nose into his neck, inhaling his sweet scent. "Because, let's face it, you wouldn't be able to get rid of me anyways. And I need you to show me how to shuffle so expertly."

Bucky let out a small huff at your answer, a sound that quickly turned into a breathy chuckle. He pressed several gentle and tender kisses to the skin of your neck, his hands gently caressing your back. “My perfect and beautiful doll…” he muttered. “So willing to throw your love at me without even knowing what type of man I am. How did I get so lucky?”

You chuckled, kissing his neck, lightly sucking on the sweet skin, before answering his question. "By being yourself, Bucky. You got so lucky, because you're yourself. You don't try to be someone else for others, and I love that about you. You're so sweet and caring, even if your broody self won't always show it. Deep down you're the sweetest person on earth, ready to do everything to protect the people you love. That's why I love you, and that's why you deserve such luck."

Bucky’s mind went blank as your sweet words hit him with full force, leaving him dizzy for a few moments. His chest felt so full of love, it nearly threatened to burst with it. He didn’t even know how to reply to your words, but his body moved subconsciously, his fingers threading through your hair to gently tilt your head back. His lips immediately found yours, kissing you with such fervor it almost felt as if he was afraid, he might lose you.

Your other hand cupped his other cheek as well, tugging him even closer, as you tried to pour all your love for him into the kiss. Your fingers threaded through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp to show him how much you cared for him.

Bucky groaned lowly into the kiss, his hands reaching down to grip your hips, gently kneading at the flesh with his fingers, his own way of pouring his love into you as well. A shiver ran down his spine when you reached into his hair, causing his fingers to dig into your hips a little harder, and the kiss grew more heated.

"I love you." You murmured in-between kisses. "I love you so much."

Bucky groaned, your breathy voice making him shiver and pull you even closer to him, his body gently pressed flush against yours. “Darling…” - he mumbled. “Darling, you have no idea how much I need to hear that. I love you, god, I love you more than anything.”

You smiled, breaking the kiss to look up at him. "I will say it as often as you want to." you told him, brushing a few stray strands of hair from his forehead. "I love you, Bucky."

Bucky let out a small groan as you pushed his hair back gently, staring deeply into your eyes. “Say it whenever you want, darling.” he mumbled, a lovesick smile on his face as he gazed down at you. “I don’t mind being reminded of your love for me every second of the day. I’ll keep reminding you of mine as well.”

"Good, because I won't stop, even if you can't hear it anymore." You told him with a grin, eyes locked on his blue ones. "And beyond that. I will never stop telling you how much I love you. Because I do, with all of my heart."

Bucky chuckled a little, his gaze full of adoration as he looked down at you. “I wouldn’t want you to ever stop, doll. I need to hear these pretty words for the rest of my life.” His hand came up to gently caress your cheek again, his smile softening at the feel of your warm skin under his touch. “Darling, you’re too good for me. You might’ve just given a dead man life again.”

"You've never been dead, just old." you teased him lightly, hinting at him already being over a hundred years old. "Even though you still look like a damn God, more beautiful than anything else."

Bucky huffed in amusement at your words, a small but bright smile appearing on his face. He couldn’t deny the way his heart skipped a beat when you complimented him, his cheeks tinging a soft pink color at your words. “You’re too kind, doll.” he hummed quietly. “I’m far from a ‘damn God’, as you put it. That title belongs to you and only you.”

"Then we're both gods." You decided, returning his smile, secretly loving the dimples on his face.

Bucky smiled down at you, the dimples in his cheeks deepening and making his face look even more handsome. “Then I might as well be the God of Darkness and you can be my little Goddess of Light.”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in amusement. "Then I'll bring you the light that you deserve in your life." you told him softly. "I'll lead you the way out of the darkness."

Bucky let out a low groan as you spoke, his chest filling up with so much love and adoration for you it felt as if it might burst. He didn’t ever want to go more than an hour without that sweet voice of yours murmuring pretty words like these into his ear. “Darling...” he muttered quietly; his eyes so soft as he gazed down at you. “You’re truly perfect to me. My precious little ray of light.”

"I love you, James." you said softly, heart swelling at his words, unable to say more. His words meant the world to you, and you were glad he accepted the love you were giving him.

Bucky practically melted on top of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He’d never ever be going to get tired of you calling his name, never going to get enough of your affection and love. The way you said it was so tender, so warm and full of adoration, and Bucky loved it. “My heart... my entire soul is yours…” he breathed against your skin. “Always and forever.”

Tag List

@sapphirebarnes

To Ava:

Hello love, sadly I wasn't able to find you. You've put your name on my Tag List, but I don't know what's your tag (for example: xxchumanixx is my tag, even though it says C. F. Hale on my profile). I'd really like to tag you, but I simply can't find you. If you see this, please send me a message so I have your tag and can add you in the future!

Lots of love!

#bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #the winter soldier #winter solider x reader #winter soldier x reader

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waynes-multiverse · 2 days

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Polaris – Chapter 4

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen��s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, so many flashbacks, more awkwardness, more funerals, more drinking, more murder, some fluff and a sprinkle of smut too

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Life got a little busy, so I've been a bit absent recently, but I'm so happy and grateful you guys are enjoying this series so far! All your sweet comments really put a smile on my face during all the chaotic and exhausting times 🥹🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 4: Rewind

A tequila hangover required copious amounts of coffee to battle the raging headache you felt. Your eyes stung when they met the blinding sun this morning, not even your darkest pair of shades bringing much relief.

Your whole body ached, a welcoming soreness between your weak and wobbly legs as you stalked inside the little bakery and coffee shop on Main Street USA. Beau had already scolded you for calling it that, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Helena’s sheriff then had sent you here for your morning coffee run, hoping this way you’d avoid the questioning and curious stares of Jenny and Cassie. Needless to say, you had never made it to Cassie’s place last night. Beau had been very convincing (and successful) in making you stay.

Hands, lips, teeth, and tongue – you clenched at the thought alone, cursing yourself for soaking through your fresh underwear. How good were your chances for a quickie during lunch break in his office if you promised to thoroughly lock his goddamn door this time?

“Y/N, hey.” Carla’s voice made you flinch and pulled you from your naughty reverie – about her ex-husband no less.

Had you mentioned how much you hated small towns?

“Hey, Carla,” you greeted her with a flushed smile, hoping you hid your blushed cheeks and fluster well. You definitely felt caught with your hand in the cookie jar, although it was thankfully impossible for her to read your mind.

Was there no safe place to quietly get coffee in this goddamn village?

“Listen, Y/N, again, I’m so sorry about yesterday,” she apologized and nervously fumbled with her coffee cup in her hands, her gaze focusing on her heels.

Carla was usually confidence personified. She was strong-willed, assertive, and dauntless – all the traits that made her a fierce and excellent lawyer and a force to be reckoned with in court. It was rare for her to lower her head, so you knew she must really be trying to make amends.

“No, don’t be. Like I said, we’re good,” you assured her and swallowed the lump of embarrassment down your throat. “I get it. I really do. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I never meant for any of this to happen, you know?”

You never had gotten a chance to say it before. You had always felt bad for the way the two of you had left things. Carla was by far not your closest friend, but the tight friendship between both your husbands and the nature of your jobs had forced you to spend time together occasionally. You’d meet at barbecues on the weekends, drinks after work, and life events like Emily’s middle school graduation. You never meant to betray her. You never meant to hurt her. And you never meant for your friendship to implode like it did.

“I know. It’s okay, really,” Carla said. “I already told Beau this yesterday, but I want him to be happy. That goes for you, too. I found my happiness after the divorce. At least for a while…”

Upon her sad look, you gave her a sympathetic smile. You knew she wasn’t married to Avery for long, but that didn’t matter. You understood better than anyone what it was like to lose someone you loved.

“Hey, if you ever need someone to talk, call me, okay? I feel like I owe you a whole pitcher of margaritas,” you offered with a chuckle.

She returned your kindness with a soft smile. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Well, if this ain’t interestingly awkward.”

Both you and Carla turned to Beau in surprise as he strolled through the doors of the coffee shop. Leave it to him to voice the uncomfortableness of the situation out loud.

“Hey, uhm… you,” you said with wide eyes and fist-bumped his arm. Obviously, you weren’t equipped to handle awkwardness very smoothly, either.

Beau sent you a tight-lipped smile that barely hid his amusement. “Do I need to pull out the sheriff’s badge here, or are you two good?”

“We’re good,” you assured him.

“Oh, relax, Beau,” Carla told him with an amused laugh and patted his shoulder in passing on her way out of the shop. “Don’t kid yourself. You could not handle either one of us, anyway.”

“Probably true,” Beau quipped in agreement as Carla waved you goodbye.

Beau waited till the door safely closed behind his ex before tilting his head at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You really good?”

“No!” you exclaimed frustratedly.

Laughing, he slung his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. Embarrassed, you buried your face in his shirt, clasping it with your palms for good measure.

“Tomorrow I’m getting coffee in the next town over. I really hate small towns,” you grumbled.

“So, I’m guessin’ you’re not a big fan of staying after the case is over, huh?” he asked carefully and rubbed his beard.

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about it until now. But Beau clearly had as he nervously chewed his lower lip and waited for your answer.

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Well, uhm… Montana doesn’t have a field office. The next one’s in Utah, and I hate Utah.”

“Yeah, everyone does. It’s Utah,” Beau agreed jokingly. “Could always work here. Sheriff’s Department could use someone like you.”

You snorted. “Yeah, not gonna happen. You’re not gonna be the boss of me. That’ll have to stay a fantasy of yours.”

“Too bad. It was a good one,” he retorted with a cheeky smile and wiggled his eyebrows. Then, he became more serious. He scratched the nape of his neck in an anxious gesture. “But look, uhm, I was about to retire anyway, so I’m just putting that on the table, okay?”

“Alright, good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

You smiled softly up at him, thinking it was cute he wanted to follow you wherever you went. He’d never handled your relationship so open and secure before. In the past, everything always dangled in the air – his feelings, your future. Unlike the North Star, nothing was fixed.

You had always been a flag he’d never preferred to wave.

You let out a small sigh and pecked his lips. “But this case is far from over, so we’ve got time to figure it out, okay?”

He nodded, a bit more relieved at your answer. “Okay.”

August 2020

Beau rubbed his face clean as best as he could. His eyes were red and stung, his vision blurry as he stepped out of the church’s back room on shaky bow legs. He had to talk to you and make things right. He felt like he not only failed you but also his best friend. Again.

The funeral guests filtered out of the church one by one as he trudged down the red-carpeted aisle. Beau could feel their stares and judgments on him. He knew he looked like the biggest mess, his suit and tie in disarray, tousled hair, and bloodshot eyes. How many of them blamed him for his partner’s death?

“Dad?” Emily’s voice made his heart ache as his thirteen-year-old daughter looked at him with a mix of worry and disenchantment. He barely resembled the father she’d known all her life and held high on a pedestal.

“Emily, honey, go wait in the car,” Carla told her swiftly, taking immediate note of her husband’s disheveled status.

“But Mom–”

“Now, Emily,” Carla ordered more firmly and watched her daughter quietly leave the church.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Beau asked, trying his best to swallow any shame he felt down. He hated that his family had to see him like this. The disappointment and hurt were visible as clear as day in both their faces.

“You gotta be kidding me…” Carla scoffed in anger and disbelief, a part of her hardly grasping the current state of her husband. “Where the hell were you, Beau? Jesus, you reek! Have you been drinking?”

“I already went through this today, okay? I don’t need a replay,” he replied flatly, every part of him hating how she looked at him. “Have you seen Y/N or not?”

“Beau, what’s going on with you? Just talk to me, please,” Carla pleaded with him as the anger subsided, concern etched into her brow. “What happened during that shootout?”

Beau ran a hand over his face, his head spinning and his eyes burning. “I can’t do this right now. Just take Em home, okay?” he told her and pushed past her.

“Where are you going? Beau!” Carla called after him, but he stubbornly headed out the door to the parking lot.

Fortunately, you still hadn’t left, but what he was seeing didn’t put him more at ease. He watched as you put a clip into your gun, a duffel bag hurriedly packed with clothes lying in the trunk of your SUV.

You threw your black pumps carelessly into the backseat before slipping into a pair of worn jeans under your black dress, which you discarded next, leaving you momentarily in only a black satin bra. He averted his gaze and tried not to stare, even though you had your back turned to him, and he couldn’t see much anyway. Still, his heartbeat quickened as he approached you, while you pulled a white t-shirt over your head and tied your wavy hair into a ponytail.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked, the feeling in the pit of his stomach and the determination in your eyes already giving him a good guess.

“What does it look like? I’m going after them,” you said sternly and tied the laces on your boots. “DEA is going down to Mexico in a couple of weeks. Cody’s leading a task force. I fought my way in. They wanna scope out some locations tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, just look at you! You’re not going after them alone in this state,” Beau snapped, throwing his arms up in utter incredulity. His gut ordered him to protect you no matter the cost. He owed as much to his dead partner to look out for you. It was a constant debt in his mind.

“My state?” You cocked an eyebrow and snorted caustically, shaking your head at him. “Have you fucking looked at yourself recently? Compared to you, I’m fine. And I also won’t be alone.”

“You’re not fine,” Beau gritted with anger in his eyes and worry in his heart. “We’re all fucking far from fine. You’re gonna get yourself killed like this!”

“I don’t have time for this right now,” you brushed him off with a roll of your eyes and slammed the trunk shut, hurrying to the driver’s side. But a rough grab of your arm stopped you in your tracks and made you spin and glare at Beau.

“Dammit, Y/N!”

Your features softened when you saw the desperation in his look. “I need to do this, Beau,” you insisted calmly and looked deeply into his watery eyes. Tears filled your gaze and threatened to choke you. “I want them to pay for what they’ve done to him. They can’t get away with it.”

His grip on your arm loosened before he let you go completely. He ran a palm over his face and carded it through his messy hair.

“Fine,” he barked resolutely, the despair replaced by determination. “But I’m coming with you. You’re not doing this alone.”

“What, so you can get me killed, too?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words rushed out and pinched the bridge of your nose. Immediate regret flooded your veins.

When you finally dared to glance at him, he looked hurt and averted his gaze to the burning asphalt below. He smacked his lips, head bobbing. It felt like you had just thrown an ax to his heart, whipped him, bludgeoned him with a baseball bat, and shot him in the knee – all at once.

“Beau, I’m so sorry.” You could see in his eyes that your apology already came too late. He was spiraling, blaming himself for Randy’s death. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean it like that. I just-… It’s been a long day.”

“Nope, no, you’re right. Don’t apologize,” he rebuffed your efforts to patch the wound you’d opened with a dark chuckle. You felt like utter shit. “I let him down. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive, so…”

“Beau, don’t do this. He wouldn’t want you to. And neither do I for that matter…” You reached out and clasped his hand reassuringly. But it didn’t feel like it was enough, so you wrapped your arms around him, too, and pulled him into a hug.

Beau was frozen for a moment when he felt your body pressed flush against his before he wrapped his arms around you as well and held you tightly. Carefully, he rested his chin on top of your head, the scent of your shampoo winding its way to his nose. And for a mere second, he let go and allowed himself to be comforted, soothing warmth spreading throughout his body.

“I gotta go,” you said quietly as you released him. But Beau held onto your hand with his for a heartbeat before realizing the strangeness of his touch and withdrew his arm quickly with a clear of his throat, fingers ripping apart at the seams.

“Lemme come with you. Lemme help,” he stated.

“Beau, no offense, but you’re a mess,” you said with gentle honesty. “Can you even walk a straight line? Stand on one leg and touch the tip of your nose? Recite the alphabet backwards?”

He actually snorted at that, his lips forming a small smile. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “I’ll get better. Promise, okay? Just please… I need this, too.”

As you stared at him, you heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, get in,” you relented and gestured with your chin to the passenger’s side of your car. “But let’s hit a Denny’s first. Get some goddamn coffee and toast into you. Maybe a shower would help, too.”

Beau chuckled a little at that, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

February 2012

Randy groaned loudly as he passed Beau the football, letting his head fall back between his shoulder blades. “Ugh, I can’t believe the Captain agreed to give the case to the stupid FBI. It was our case, man. We almost had the guy!”

“Yeah, I know. But hey, we could still follow our own leads. Solve it before the feds do. What’s Harper gonna do?” Beau suggested with a cocky smirk.

“I don’t know. Suspend us? Fire us? Just to name a few,” Randy quipped sarcastically and threw his partner a raised look.

Beau scoffed playfully and rolled his eyes. “Always by the book. You’re no fun,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Well, I can still bash the feds who are stealing this case from us. It’s probably some dumb asshole in a suit and sunglasses,” Randy joked and laughed, not noticing Beau’s facial expression change as he lowered his gaze to the floor, lips pursing.

You cleared your throat behind the chuckling detective, causing him to turn around and blink up at you.

“Well, I’m an asshole. I can admit as much. Definitely not dumb, though. I hate suits, and I don’t wear sunglasses indoors. Only douchebags do that,” you quipped and sent him a complacent smile upon his wide-eyed stare. Then, you arched a brow at the guy. “And stealing, really? You guys haven’t made progress on the case for weeks. Probably because you keep playing football instead of working.”

“Whoa, hey!” Beau threw in, furrowing his brow. “It’s a brainstorming technique, okay?”

“Yeah, for dumbasses,” you retorted. “Did you already get a concussion? Would explain a few things, mainly how you screwed up this case so much. It’s not rocket science, boys.”

“Okay, listen, missy. We did not screw up this case. We have leads, alright?” Beau argued fervently and took a step closer to you, his shoulders tensing as he was only inches away from your face.

You had the urge to tiptoe just to keep up with him for a proper face-off. He was tall, gigantic really, and now you were left to glare more or less into his chest.

“Who? The buyer for the jeweler? It wasn’t him. I already checked him out,” you said dismissively and could tell by Beau’s frown that it indeed had been his only lead. You then glanced at his partner. “Is he gonna say something or just stare? It’s not helping to refute my concussion theory, you know?”

Beau knitted his brow and shot his partner a look. As soon as he realized what was going on, he rolled his eyes and sighed. His best friend was running hot for Agent Hostile. Granted, you did look very sexy with all that fire burning in your eyes.

“Ey, Randy!” Beau snapped his fingers in front of his partner and hauled him from his surely naughty daydream.

“Uhm… I’m Randy,” he told you, dumbfounded.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, your mouth itched to smile in amusement. “Wow, okay… Does that come with a last name?”

Randy still gave you that same vacant and infatuated stare in his hazel eyes. “You can call me whatever you want.” He sent you an insecure smile with a halfway shrug.

“Oh, can I call you a moron?” you countered snappily.

Amused, Beau actually snorted into his shoulder as he dipped his head, but then decided to step in for his best friend. “Okay, c’mon, leave him be.”

“Look, just gimme the file, and I’ll be outta your hair,” you submitted your peace offering, which Beau accepted, handing you the folder.

“Uh… drinks?” Randy looked up at you hopefully, like a shelter puppy waiting to be adopted. You honestly found his fluster quite endearing.

“Is he asking me out?” you checked with Beau, a smile playing on your lips.

“I think so.” Beau chuckled and nodded. “Look, uh–”

“Y/N,” you provided, noticing him fumble for a name.

“Y/N,” he repeated with a warm smile that reached his green eyes. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. We could help you with the case. We know it better than anyone. Could save you some work.”

You smirked slightly, recognizing what he was doing. First of all, he wanted in on the case, clearly having a hard time letting go. You knew the type all too well. Sometimes people in law enforcement behaved like bratty toddlers when it came to cases – they all hated sharing their toys, but you knew how to play nice. And secondly, Beau wanted to ensure you got to spend more time with his partner – the perfect wingman. He deserved a medal for his efforts.

You lifted a knowing eyebrow at him. “Didn’t your captain already say no?”

“But what d’you say, darlin’?” He shot you a mischievous grin.

“You’re a troublemaker,” you noted and received an acknowledging shrug in return. “Are you gonna behave, Ferris Bueller?”

“Yes, ma’am. Hand on my red-blooded and beating heart,” Beau promised charmingly and did as advertised, placing his palm on his chest like he was swearing a Boy Scout oath.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned and caved. “Fine. I’ll talk to your captain. You guys can come along, I guess.”

Beau handed you their card with their numbers on it before you disappeared out of the station again. Comfortingly, he patted his partner’s back as soon as you had left, Randy still staring after your goddamn shadow.

“I wanna marry her,” Randy sighed dreamily.

“Whoa… Moving way too fast here, buddy,” Beau tried to rein him in. “Maybe try speaking a straight sentence to her first.”

“I can’t. I’m in love with her. She’s the one.”

“She called you a moron,” Beau countered and crossed his arms over his chest, although he kind of understood where Randy was coming from. If he hadn’t been married, he would’ve given you his best shot as well.

“That only made me love her more,” Randy insisted.

Sighing theatrically, Beau rolled his eyes back. “Dear Lord, help me…”

Randy then went on a long tangent about everything he loved about you. The words he’d been missing when you were around suddenly spilled out of him. And while Beau acted annoyed, he smiled internally for his friend’s happiness. He’d never seen him before like this.

June 2013

“Oh God, I think I’m gonna puke,” Randy said and swallowed what felt like bile in his throat. With his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. “Can you give me that trash can?”

Beau handed him the bin next to him with an amused chuckle. “Alright, but just remember – no matter what you do, don’t puke on the suit.”

Randy scowled at him, panic taking over as he nervously paced the fancy dressing room. “Not in the mood for jokes right now, man,” he huffed.

Beau laughed heartily and raised his hands in surrender. He got up from his seat on the small and uncomfortable sofa and patted his friend on the back, squeezing his shoulders encouragingly. “Okay, calm down. Everything will work out fine. Why are you so nervous anyway? Is this you having cold feet? Should I do somethin’? Start a getaway car?”

Taken aback by the suggestion, Randy’s brow furrowed, close to offended. “What? No! I love Y/N. I can’t wait to marry her,” he stated with absolute certainty. “I just-… I don’t wanna stand up there and, you know, look like a moron. I want today to be perfect for her.”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Alright, you won’t, okay? That’s what I’m here for. If you do somethin’ stupid up there, I’m gonna distract everyone with somethin’ stupider. That’s basically my duty as best man.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s gonna love that,” Randy quipped sarcastically and chuckled. But the lighthearted distraction didn’t last long before his nerves burned through him again. “You think I can make her happy?”

Beau smiled at him warmly. “The way she looks at you, you already are. Trust me.”

“Okay, good.” Randy nodded in relief. “‘Cause sometimes I really wonder how I got so lucky. I swear I didn’t speak in straight sentences for, like, the first three dates.”

“Oh, I remember.” Beau snorted.

“Man, were you this nervous, too, when you married Carla? I swear this is killing me,” Randy asked with his wildly beating heart in his throat. “I think I’m having a heart attack… Or a stroke. My head keeps spinning. Is that normal? Doesn’t feel normal…”

Beau hesitated for a moment before he nodded with a light swallow. “Yeah, sure. Everyone’s nervous,” he assured his partner, although the truth was a little different.

Carla was already pregnant when they tied the knot, so they did the right thing to appease their parents. But sometimes, Beau wished they would’ve waited. He could tell Carla did, too. They were both young. She had still been in law school, chasing her degree, and Beau had barely finished police academy and had still been working patrol.

Sure, he was nervous on his wedding day, but it wasn’t a puking-your-guts-out-and-jittering-to-your-bones kind of nervous. But Beau loved his family more than words could say and wouldn’t trade his daughter for anything.

“Hey, uh, can you ask Y/N about the marriage certificate? I’m supposed to give it to the officiant or something,” Randy said with a confused brow, scratching his sweaty neck.

“Yeah, of course. Be right back,” Beau replied with a saluting gesture and strutted to the door, encouragingly patting Randy’s shoulder once more on the way out. “Try not to soil yourself,” he teased, chuckling.

Beau then strolled down the lavish hallway of the five-star hotel and stopped in front of your dressing room door. He knocked twice and heard a “Come in!” bounce through. But when he opened the door and peeked his head carefully inside, he wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him.

“Wow… uh…” Beau’s forest-green eyes went wide as he blinked at you. He was rendered completely speechless. How did he turn into Randy so quickly?

As you sat in front of your vanity, you glanced at him over your naked shoulder before you stood up and greeted him with a bright smile.

Your white dress hugged your curves perfectly, strapless but with a bit of cleavage, giving a perfect view of your clavicle and shoulder blades. It wasn’t one of those puffy princess dresses. It was smooth, uncomplicated, and delicate just like you.

You looked absolutely stunning.

“Wow,” Beau repeated and felt like a moron. He cleared his throat to haul himself out of his shameless staring and tried to recover his composure. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” You beamed with blushed cheeks. “You think Randy’s gonna like it?”

Beau smiled kindly, unable to take his eyes off of you. “Yeah, he’s gonna love it. It’s gonna make him even more nervous,” he replied, chuckling.

But your brow creased in concern, your lips parting. “He’s nervous?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Beau swiftly brushed your concerns away, “He’s nervous in a good way. No cold feet or anythin’ like it. He might just pass out and puke at the altar when you walk out. That’s all. Maybe some stuttering, too.”

You laughed softly, nodding. “That’s all, huh?” you teased. “Kinda like when we first met then,” you remembered fondly. “Or our first three dates, too, I guess.”

Musingly, Beau pursed his lips, his head bobbing in thought. “Hey, uh, can I just ask… Why did you keep going out with him? I mean, like you said he didn’t really speak for the first three dates. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good-looking guy, but, you know, you’re, well… you.”

You snorted lightly and cast your gaze down as your cheeks flushed even deeper red. “Thank you, I guess? But, uhm, to answer your question – I kinda liked that he was so flustered. It was endearingly sweet,” you replied and smiled to yourself at the memory. “‘Sides, every time he did say something, it was oddly complimenting. He’s also the only guy who ever bought me flowers after our first night together. It came with an extensive ‘thank you’ card.”

“Oh, Randy, you sweet little idiot…” Beau sighed affectionately.

“He never told you that?” you asked curiously.

“Ha, no. For obvious reasons.” Beau laughed. “But hey, it’s great material for my best man speech later.”

“Oh God,” you groaned playfully and laughed. “Just so you know, though, I’m gonna cut you off after fifteen minutes.”

Beau threw his head back, laughing loudly. “Alright, I hear ya. Your loss, though.”

You watched him for a moment when your laughs quieted down. He scratched his bearded chin, gazing down at his feet and making no efforts to move.

“Beau?”

“Hm?” His eyes found your arched eyebrow.

“Did you come here for a reason or just to chitchat?” you asked with curious amusement. He seemed obviously lost.

“Oh, uh, right! I’m supposed to ask you about the marriage certificate and the officiant thingy,” he remembered.

You smiled. “Tell Randy it’s already taken care of. He doesn’t have to worry about anything, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll-, uhm, I’ll do that,” Beau said and awkwardly cleared his throat, walking to the door.

“Oh, and Beau?” He spun on his heel when you called his name. “Make sure Randy doesn’t puke on his suit.”

An amused smile shaped on his lips at that, and he nodded. “Oh, I’m on it. Trust me.”

When Beau left your room and wandered down the hallway again, a weird sting plagued his heart. Deciding it was a feeling he didn’t particularly care for, he pushed it deep down, not even admitting his true thoughts to himself under duress and torture.

He’d feel like an ass if he ever did.

Beau looked up from his files on his desk when a knock ripped him from his reverie. It was already getting dark outside, the sun setting behind the mountains. He smiled up at you from his chair when you peeked your head inside.

“Hey, Jenny and I are back from the crime scene,” you informed him as you stepped inside his office, closing the door behind you.

“And?”

“It’s definitely the woman from the video,” you confirmed sadly.

“We got a name yet?” Beau asked, his face stern, concern and compassion carved into every crease.

“Yeah, Addison Hughes. Husband reported her missing four days ago in Jefferson County. I already talked to the sheriff there. They’re handing us over the case,” you told him and noticed his suspiciously cocked brow.

“Uh-oh, I know what that means,” he quipped teasingly. “Were you nice?”

You gasped in mock-disbelief at his accusation. “What d’you mean? I’m always nice.”

Beau snorted in amusement. “Uh-huh, that means no…”

“Wha-… Anyways,” you continued with a clear of your throat and a playful little glare at him, “Jenny and I talked to Mr. Hughes afterwards. He didn’t wanna admit that he cheated at first, but Jenny and I kinda went in on him till he fessed up.”

“Poor fella…” Beau muttered under his breath.

“Hm? What?”

“Nothin’. I said nothing.” He shook his head and gave you an innocent smile, but it didn’t stop your eyes from narrowing at him.

“Careful,” you warned and ambled over to his side of the desk. He pushed his chair back, making room for you between his thighs. “You don’t wanna defend a cheater. He got his wife killed. I have little sympathy for that.”

“Well, he’s definitely an ass for cheating, but even you gotta admit he didn’t really kill her. That’s still on the psycho running around out there,” Beau argued, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You involuntarily clenched when his face was in front of your crotch.

“Fine,” you conceded with a roll of your eyes, sliding your hands up his arms till they locked around his neck.

“‘Sides, I kinda get how quickly a mistake can happen, you know?” he said thoughtfully.

You arched your brow. “Do you mean me with that?”

Beau’s eyes widened, immediately shaking his head. “What, no! I mean, yeah, a little,” he stammered. Your frown deepened. “Not like that, obviously. Just remembered some stuff today… But we never cheated. I know that.”

“Do you?” you questioned rhetorically.

“I do,” he assured you and took your hands in his, kissing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe you. “Just sometimes feels like I betrayed him, you know?”

“I know. I get that. But you did nothing wrong, okay? You did not seduce me and steal me away from him, nor did you take advantage of me when I was a vulnerable and grieving widow. I’m a grown-ass woman. I make my own choices. And I chose you like you chose me. After Randy’s death and all those months in Mexico, I fell in love with you, too.”

A coy smile clawed at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you idiot,” you confirmed, your smiles matching.

He then pulled you onto his lap and claimed your lips in deep passion. You straddled his thighs and rocked against him, feeling the blooming erection in his jeans rub against your clothed cunt.

You unbuckled his belt and opened the zipper, Beau pushing down his jeans over his ass a little. Supporting one palm on his shoulder, your other hand climbed inside his boxers and grasped his dick. You thumbed his head and dribbled a few drops of spit down on his cock before moving your hand down his shaft, spreading it like lube on his velvety skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the backrest. With hooded eyes drunk with lust, one hand snaked under your shirt and pulled down the cup of your bra, palming and massaging your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingers. Your moan of pleasure was his reward as you pumped him with a tightening grip.

Both of you jerked up, however, as the door to his office suddenly flung wide open. Beau and you froze in your place, your fingers still wrapped around his cock, but luckily, neither of you was fully naked and your back hid most of the explicits. To your visitor, it just looked like an intense and very heated make-out session.

As you peeled your gaze over your shoulder, you recognized a woman in her mid-thirties who covered her eyes and quickly retreated through the door.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I’ll wait outside,” she excused and shut the door behind her again.

Beau gaped at you, green eyes wide in disbelief. “Y/N, did you not lock the door?”

You clasped your mouth with both hands, shaking your head with pupils as blown wide as his. “No, I thought everyone had already left when I came in here.”

“That’s the second time in three days,” he reminded you scoldingly. “Three days, Y/N! Twice!”

“I know! I’m sorry,” you whispered apologetically, still in shock, but a laugh of amusement escaped your throat. “Who was that lady?”

“I don’t know.” Beau’s brow furrowed in the same questioning manner as yours.

The two of you then sorted yourselves quickly, pulling pants back on and smoothing out shirts. You then stepped outside the office, where your female visitor was still waiting in the hallway.

“Uh, so sorry for that little, uhm…” Beau stopped mid-sentence, clueless on how to proceed and describe the scene while still sounding professional. “Anyways, how can I help you, darlin’?”

You threw him a small sideways glare at that and crossed your arms over your chest, Beau giving you one of his charming “can’t be helped” shrugs. Did he have to put so much flirt into it?

“Oh, uh, I apologize. I should’ve knocked,” the woman replied with a keen giggle, her cheeks blushing in fluster. She cleared her throat and regained her composure, introducing herself. “My name is Diane Newton. I’m the new DA for the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department. I got assigned the serial killer case and wanted to look through your files on it. See what you’ve got so far.”

“Oh, uhm, sure,” Beau spluttered and swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind jumping back into work mode. Of course, it had to be the new prosecutor to find him with his pants down in his office. What a great first impression.

“Hi, uh, Sheriff Beau Arlen. Nice to meet you,” he said and reached out his hand for a shake. He then glanced at you. “This is actually Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She’s leading that case,” he introduced you before he nervously chuckled. “She’s, uh, my girlfriend. That’s why we, uhm… Wouldn’t want you to think that we-… I do this all the time.”

“No worries and no judgment here,” she said and waved off his concerns. “What you do after hours is completely your business.”

“Well, uhm, how about I show you the files now?” you offered and ushered her to your desk in the main room of the station.

“Oh, that’d be great!”

You threw Beau a wide-eyed look over your shoulder as you walked down the hall, mouthing “Why would you say that?” with a chiding shake of your head.

Beau only twitched his shoulders in a comical apology like a cartoon character and swiftly disappeared back into his office.

Diane stayed for two more hours before finally leaving. You went over every victim in Montana with her, not sparing any excruciating details, and told her a little about the other victims in the other states as well. By the end, you were exhausted and almost fell asleep at your desk, your head resting on the pile of files with closed eyes.

Just a few minutes…

“C’mon, let’s go home. You’re tapped out,” you heard Beau’s deep voice and soon felt his grasp around your arm, hoisting you gently to your feet.

You slung your arms around his neck and tiredly rested your head on his warm, broad chest, listening to his heartbeat underneath. He’d always been the best pillow. “Mmm, I don’t have a home here,” you murmured sleepily.

“Well, you know what they say, home is where the heart is, and I’m going back to my trailer, so…” He shrugged and grinned down at you.

“You’re such a dork,” you quipped. As you looked up at him, you bit your bottom lip. “You introduced me as your girlfriend earlier.”

He licked his smirking lips. “Well, you are my girlfriend.” His brow then creased momentarily. His insecurity was somewhat cute, you thought. “Right?”

You beamed and nodded, giggling. “Yes,” you confirmed and tiptoed up to plant a sweet kiss on his lips to seal it.

“How about before we go home, we finish what we started in my office,” he suggested cheekily and added, “I’ll even teach you how to lock a damn door.”

You snorted a small laugh and gave him another gentle kiss, this one lasting a bit longer and swinging with promise. “Alright. Teach me, Sheriff,” you agreed and smoothed your palms up his chest, smirking up at him.

“Oh, this just took a turn. Now, I know what I’m gonna do with you.” He chuckled wickedly and scooped you up in his arms, bolting down the hallway to his office as you squealed and giggled.

Chapter 5: Illicit Affairs – MAY 29

Will they ever learn? Probably not... 😆 We've had some juicy flashbacks these week... Past scenes that include Randy always make me sad 😭

More murder stuff and flashbacks next week! See ya 🫶

(Also I've been a bit slow with comments these days. It's been crazy busy life things, but I hope I can catch up with everything this weekend 🤍)

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser

#polaris #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you

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alvojake · 2 days

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I'm about to get reeeaaalllll sappy here for a few moments

when I first got onto tumblr, my intent was to just read the amazing fics that everyone had written because I love reading and enjoy others' writing as a fellow writer. I was at a point in my life where I felt like all of my favorite hobbies weren't making me happy anymore, so I backed off of writing for a very long time. I felt as if everything I wrote was just garbage and it just didn't feel right sharing it with the world, so I just stopped, it was truly heartbreaking because I love write with a passion, it had always been an outlet for me during my rough childhood. however, reading so many good fics here on tumblr from writers that I now consider my friends/moots (@yeonzzzn @enha-stars @simpjaes @minhosimthings @pprodsuga @ja3yun) helped me open my heart up to writing again, and for that, I am truly thankful <3

I had started writing not even a month after I had lost my cousin unexpectedly; it was such a hard and dark time for both me and my family that I just needed an escape before I spiraled into the deep end. never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would be where I am now, three months into writing and talking to such amazing people with almost 2k followers. if you had told that broken girl in the hospital that she would find some light in the dark again, this is where she is now; she would just look at you like you had grown three heads. there are truly no words to express how grateful I am to everyone here who has helped me see that light again.

even during a rough patch in the beginning when I had another person copy one of my works, I was truly at a loss for words because not only did they copy my work, but theirs had far more notes and comments on it than mine and it was truly disheartening and I second guessed if I would be able to sort it all out, but during all of this I had aeri to back me up (@heeslut4life). now, I'm not gonna lie. I'm not entirely sure I would have made it past that if it wasn't for her, so thank you, aeri, truly.

but before I go on too much longer and gross everyone out, I just wanted to say that I am thankful for everyone here, moots and followers alike. you guys are truly amazing, and I love you all so dearly <33

tagging all of my moots/friends (that weren't tagged above) because you all are truly dear and near to my heart, and I love you all so so so so much: @karinasbaby @jaylaxies @jaeyunluvr @ikeuverse @wondipity @fakeuwus @j4yluvr @moon7jay (we miss you xyn </3) @wonryllis @wonlvkay @pockettwinzz @antonitty @jjunie-0 @hoondrop @hxxsxxng @seunghancore @dollyyun

#↳˳;; ❝ 𝓴𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼 ᵕ̈೫˚∗#*ೃ༄ 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼˚◞♡ ⃗#i love you guys #and yall deserve nothing but happiness in life #<333

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kiaratheronappreciationweek · 2 days

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We're on Day 3 of KTAW now, and there are two amazing themes lined up for you!!

As everyone who has ever read the series knows, Kiara is a polyglot. With a real passion for languages. So much so that she has managed to learn not one, not two - but ten of them!!! So tomorrow, we will be focusing on Languages!

Kiara's home, Castelserraillan, is also well known for its vineyards. Her mother Joelle was the main force behind this particular passion, and the entire family has an extensive knowledge on the subject. In fact, Kiara had even told Drake once that she "prefers wine to cocktails". So it is only fitting that we have a theme revolving around the subject of Wine!

Any content is welcome!! Just make sure your work centers Kiara, and presents a positive depiction of her. Fic, art, meta, headcanons, edits, icons, interactive media, even simple character appreciation posts!! We also accept WIPs, so if your piece isn't entirely complete by the end of the week, fret not - you can still send us the WIPs!

The themes are simply inspirations. If you bring a piece for one of the days later, it's entirely okay...just make sure you tag the posts with the day you meant it for! We will always be keeping a bonus week in case you couldn't complete the piece during the week itself, so our official deadline for pieces will be June 1st!

We'd also like all of you to know that KTAW 2024 will be open ALL YEAR ROUND. So if you're unable to finish a piece before June 1st, pls do send it whenever you're ready to (and tag us!), and it will definitely be up on our masterlist!!

Be sure to follow these rules while making your posts:

1. Use the tags #kiaratheronappreciationweek and #KTAW in your posts. Make sure to tag the day as well (#KTAW Day 1, #KTAW Day 2, etc)

2. Tag @kiaratheronappreciationweek as well as hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes in your work!

Fan Community blogs are super important to our promotion of events, so we'd definitely love for you to check out some of these awesome blogs and their challenges:

@choicesficwriterscreations - Primarily fanfic and fanart (no AI allowed). Check out their rules and roster of events!

@choicesmonthlychallenge and @choicesmaychallenge24 - Any and all content welcome! This month's prompts are delightfully Greek mythology-themed!

@choicespride - Any and all content welcome, as long as it centers LGBTQ+ characters and/or themes! They will be hosting this year's pride event soon!

@choicesholidays - Any and all content welcome, as long as it is centered around one of the holidays listed! Currently, they are hosting Spring Fling!

@choicesprompts - Any and all content welcome! Currently no events, but you could check out all the cool stuff they've been up to so far!

@choicescommunityevents - Any and all art welcome as long as it is on-theme! Currently hosting the AAPI Heritage Month!

SO excited to see all your entries!!!

Happy Kiara Theron Appreciation Week, everyone!!

#kiara theron #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW #KTAW 2024 #KTAW Day 3 #KTAW Day 3: Languages #KTAW Day 3: Wine

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sehodreams · 8 hours

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fucking Anton with a breeding kink is so hot like when he has hot passionate romantic sex it definitely feels like baby making

Sorry, I don't think this is what you wanted to read but it's what came to my mind. It's been in my draft for so long, I tried to think of a different idea but it stayed like this 😭

TW and tags: p in v, no condom, literally babymaking.

He's especially needy on these occasions. You don't really understand what goes through his mind when he's pushing you to the bed all serious, or when he's brushing his fingers on your waist while you're getting ready for bed, but there's simply an alarm that starts sounding inside you, a "shit" repeating in your head because you know what's about to come.

He's not harder, or rougher. He's really slow since he wants to feel you more, caressing corners of your skin not even you pay attention, like that little emptiness in your collarbone, or the inside of your arm when he pushes your hands up to take control of your moves.

Still, finally, this day, he's brave enough to tell you those thoughts that fill his head and you always wondered about. Spitting things you know cross him in the middle of the night, you gasp for air when you hear his voice. "You'd look so pretty pregnant,'' he whispers. ''I can't stop thinking about us living in a bigger house, big enough for you to have anything you could ever want... don't you want to come and search for one with me?"

"What are you saying?" You answer. You want to think that maybe he's joking, but it's all so intense, his finger flicking your clit and his eyes on yours at every second, gleaming even in the dark.

"We could be a family, maybe a little girl to keep company to my favourite girl in the whole world?" He's going too far now, and you're trying to resist it. It's too drawing, the tone of his voice, the aroma of his bed that is almost yours now after all those nights sleeping together, and the image he's planting on your head. You're so comfy in that picture, being kissed by him while he rests his hand on your stomach, and everything is dizzy when he's sliding into you.

"You-you really want that?" You ask unsure, feeling too good and in a haze of pleasure. More than just loved, you feel almost adored.

"It's everything I can think about,'' he groans. ''I want to make my girl a mom, the most beautiful one."

Fuck, not again you say inside your head. He knows he shouldn't ask you for things while fucking. You're too weak to resist him when it's all so good, he pressing you to the mattress and his hips slowly finding that spot that doesn't let you think things twice when he bottoms out and steals every air you could have with his weight over you.

He's not saying anything else about it. He's just pounding and holding your hands over your head while the other in your waist keeps you in place to receive him. He couldn't let you move apart when your pussy is squelching, begging for him to spill everything inside.

You don't talk, but you want him to cum inside, you're too deep into the fantasy to say no to him, and soon you're clenching, not wanting to let him pull away from you and your new dream.

Fuck, you curse again. You're not even sure you want to be a mom. Obviously, you haven't thought about it as much as him.

Yet, you can see everything so clearly now. A house with a pretty garden, white ceilings and breakfast out in the fresh air on Sunday mornings.

You can't push him away when you know he's about to cum. His breath is getting harder with every thrust and the sweat is accumulating in his forehead. Usually, you'd have cleaned it with your hand, but he doesn't let you move, both wrists pinned in your pillow.

''I'm not wearing a condom,'' he warns you.

You don't know why he's telling you that by that point. You physically can't push him away, and you both know you can't say no to him, not while fucking, not at any moment, and this one is not the exception.

#riize smut #anton smut

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inafieldofdaisies · 2 days

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OCs as Archetypes | uquiz | Tagged by @rhettsabbott @g0dspeeed @voidika and @imogenkol

Lover: You are so full of love and light; you value the people around you more than anything. I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope you find the right people at the right time and that your world is full of love; I hope your love is returned to you, properly, and that you don't ever get too hurt (because you're prone to it, aren't you?). You deserve that, you deserve the world. I wish you the best. Also, I'm serious, read the last lines of the minecraft end poem if you haven't, I think you'll like it.

Villain: I know some of them pity you. They think you must be exhausted carrying around that much resentment, that much anger. I know what you did, though, what it must have taken to get here. You had no fall from grace; you walked into the pit, eyes open, feet planted firmly on the staircase. And so be it. It's an effective lifestyle, if you're willing to commit to it. I'm sure you'll get where you're going. And then they'll see, they'll all see--because that's what's important, isn't it?

Hero: The hero in a relative sense, anyhow. You have your moments of weakness, but you're the best one for the job. Or the only one that wants it. Golden child, high aptitude, natural leader, whatever it may be--you've grown used to being favored, to being the best. You walk a fine line and you'll lose yourself to insanity if you aren't careful. You know that, though. It began to dawn on you a long time ago what you've gotten yourself into.

Ghost: You seem to think you're the villain. I don't think that you are. I don't know why you'd want to be, either. There is always love and light if you look for it and I think you would enjoy that, if you would let yourself be a part of that world instead of haunting it from beyond the glass. It really isn't much fun to be a villain, but I think you know that. It's easier, sure, than trying to be a good, happy person, but it isn't as much fun. The cool aesthetics only make up for so much.

Starlet: Deeply, you understand beauty--what it is to possess it, to surround yourself in it, to be consumed by it. It's better, isn't it? To create your own world full of lights and glamour than to live in reality with the rest of us? It's like living in a movie. You win, by the way. This is your movie, you're our star. Be careful, though, getting too far from reality. It gets more and more difficult to come back, and you've got to, at some point.

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @strafethesesinners @aceghosts @raresvtm

@josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @carlosoliveiraa @gearvmac @thesingularityseries

@killyourrdarlingss @shellibisshe @direwombat @cassietrn @finding-comfort-in-rain

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cheerycherrycandy-resurrected · 16 hours

Text

What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Chapter 6

Dew reconnects with the ghoulettes, and the pack go to find Rain.

Ok I know I said this one would be quicker as I'd already written the first scene... but then I went away for the long weekend and also the word count spiraled a bit. A fair bit more plot here, so I hope it's worth the wait!

Rating: M Content: implied/threat of torture, injury Words: 5252

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Hello tag alert-ees! @revengeghoulette @everybodyshusband @rainsbasspick

Read below, or on AO3!

Dew looked up at the large, dark doors of the Abbey. He’d sworn he would never come back to this place, every happy memory of the ghoulettes who took him in and showed him care and kindness was tainted with bitterness at how he hadn’t been able to fully open up to them.

The brass bell still hung beside the entrance, unchanged. Everything about the scene he found himself in was familiar, with one key exception: he had changed. Dew wasn’t the same ghoul he had been when they took him in, he wasn’t the same ghoul that had left there either. He had learned that burdens could be shared, asking for help wasn’t the weakness he had always perceived it to be.

Dew was still scared of many things; rejection, abandonment, failure. Now though he had a far larger fear that, instead of paralysing him, made him brave. Dew hadn’t known the terror the thought of losing his pack would cause until he felt it, and now he knew he would cross oceans to protect them. The strength he had been building through his new life emboldened him, the support of his pack made him self-assured. He’d learned to take up space, to demand respect, and now he could put every ounce of inner strength into protecting those he loved; swallowing his pride and asking for help.

Huffing out the last of his hesitation into the evening air, Dew reached for the bell pull. The sound rang out, louder than he remembered it being. He stood in front of the gate, stroking his horse’s nose for comfort. She sensed his anxiety even through her own tiredness, and snorted reassuringly.

Just as Dew’s hand was hovering by the bell to ring it a second time, the doors swung open and a familiar face and cloud of hair greeted him.

“Dewdrop?!” Cumulus squealed, seemingly overjoyed to see him. “You came back? I thought we’d never see you again!”

Unable to stop herself, the ghoulette pounced on Dew, almost knocking him to the ground with her enthusiastic hug. The horse nickered nervously on Dew’s behalf, until she released him again.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she kept a perfectly manicured hand latched to his arm, as though he could vanish in front of her if she let go.

“Hello Lus,” Dew smiled at her, the familiarity of her greeting putting him at ease, even if it was more enthusiastic than he could’ve imagined. “Sorry I left like I did… it’s a long story.”

“Who cares, you’re back now! We have to find Riri, she’ll be so happy to see you.” Cumulus twittered. She went in for another hug, but a more composed one. Her face tucked into Dew’s neck, she sniffed delicately.

“Eww, you’re getting straight in the bath afterwards though, you smell like ghoul!”

Dew froze. It was now or never.

“I am. A ghoul, that is.” Dew stuck his chin out defiantly. He wouldn’t allow himself to make the same mistake twice; if his relationship with the ghoulettes was going to be rekindled, it was going to be on a foundation of truth.

Cumulus looked at him for a second, her appraising eyes fixed on him, before her familiar laugh rang out again,

“Well you’re not getting out of taking that bath mister, look at the state of you!”

Maybe, thought Dewdrop, some things weren’t as difficult as he made them out to be.

Cumulus had practically skipped beside him as she dragged him by the hand into the Abbey. He made her pause her excitement momentarily to take care of his horse, leading her to the small stables where the Abbey’s own horses lived. Handing her reigns over to a very obliging Cowbell, Dew was greeted by a lopsided smile and a nod. Dew knew she’d be in safe hands there, and she would need to we well rested for the journey back.

Reconnecting with Cirrus and Mist went even smoother than he could have imagined. Cumulus had barrelled ahead of him into the common area they had all shared during his time here to announce his presence, the two ghoulettes looking up from their conversation in amusement at her theatrics.

“Look who’s here!” She cheered, “I found him wandering around outside!”

“Well look who the cat dragged in,” Without hesitating at how Cumulus addressed had Dew, Cirrus stood up and moved to pull him into a hug, “our Dewdrop.” Dew felt instantly more at ease as he sunk against her chest. “Missed you.” He muttered into her neck, a low purr starting in his chest. Cirrus stroked his hair, and he was immediately transported back to that night so many moons ago when she had cared for him in this very room.

“You look well, Dew,” said Mist with a knowing smile as she stood up to join in the hug, “really well.”

All Dew could manage to say was a whispered thank you, he could feel the sisterly pride rolling off her, and knew she was aware how exactly deep his thanks went for all she’d helped him to discover.

Never one to be left out of any physical affection, Cumulus squeezed her way into the group hug still situated next to the doorway. As she did so, the door slammed open again making them break apart,

“Guys, have any of you seen my yellow–” a whirlwind of a ghoulette almost collided with Dew as she burst through the door.

“Oh hello!” she purred with a smirk as she grabbed his arms to steady herself, “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Knock it off Sunny,” snorted Mist with a good-natured shake of her head, “don’t fluster the poor guy before he’s even had a chance to sit down.”

Dew felt a blush spreading across his cheeks to the tips of his ears as the ghoulette appraised him from under light eyelashes before releasing him.

“Sunshine.” she eventually stated, holding out her hand in a strangely formal gesture, seeing as she’d been gripping his biceps moments earlier.

“Dewdrop.” He reached out and shook her hand, smiling as the small ghoulette vigorously bounded them up and down.

“Sorry about her,” said Mist, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her into her side, “Sunny’s never met a boundary she couldn’t push.”

“Hey, you love me really!” Teased the ghoulette, pressing a small kiss to the delicate skin above Mist’s gills.

“Alas, I do.”

Dew couldn’t help but beam at the display of affection in front of him, delighted for his old friend’s happiness. She deserved it.

“What brings you back here then Dew?” asked Cirrus, “I’m guessing this isn’t just a social call?”

He shook his head, and felt the air turn serious as four pairs of piercing eyes focussed all their attention on him before speaking words that had never passed his lips before.

“My pack is in danger. Please, I need your help.”

~~~~~~~

Heeding Dew's words, Swiss, Mountain and Aether had finished gathering their belongings, and left the farmhouse as darkness began to fall on the night of Rain's capture. They had loaded the herbs Aether and Mountain had been gathering, Swiss's guitar, and all the food they could fit onto a handcart along with blankets and bedrolls for the three of them, plus Rain. They'd emptied the house of valuables, loath to leave anything behind that the villagers could loot and said a tearful goodbye to the building that had been their home for so long.

In the brief time they spent tearing through it packing, Mountain had been distraught that he couldn't find the book he had been working on with Aether. He couldn't stand the thought of it falling into the hands of the humans, they didn't deserve the knowledge contained inside. Mountain had smelled a slightly fresher scent of Dew in his room that he would’ve expected, he cursed the ghoul if he had indeed run off with something so precious. He could barely identify non-poisonous plants, let alone distinguish the small details that marked out the most magical herbs. Well, if it could help keep him alive then Mountain guessed it was worth it. Despite his current annoyance he didn’t want Dew to come to any harm: he still loved the temperamental idiot.

They set off away from the house, away from the town and civilisation. As they moved, Mountain made sure to bring up the rear and remould the earth behind them to remove all traces of the wheels of the small cart so they couldn't be followed. A few miles further on, they found a small, densely wooded area that offered some shelter. Aether and Swiss worked to stow their belongings inside of a hollow tree to protect it from wildlife, while Mountain laid protective wards into the earth around the area. This would have to do for now, they needed a base camp to stage their rescue from that was close enough to town, but safe. They had talked over various plans as they walked not having any concrete ideas so far, yet they remained optimistic.

Around this time, it was truly night outside and the dark sliver of moon was the only light. The first step in all of their possible plans had been to go to Rain, so Aether loaded up some food and healing tinctures, and they set off under the cover of darkness. Dew hadn't told them much, only that Rain was in the jail and not in a good state.

They prowled towards the town in formation. Mountain lead the way, feeling the way ahead with his enhanced earth ghoul senses and listening for the thrum of heartbeats or the vibration of footsteps disturbing the earth, his eyesight spotting even the smallest movements. Aether was next, tuning in more broadly to the ripples of life in the void from those who may be lying ahead. He guided Mountain in the directions with the least signs of life, hoping to guide them into the village via the quietest areas. Swiss brought up the rear, protecting their backs while opening his mind to visions of their imminent future.

Mountain paused, the ghouls behind him following suit. He could hear something, eventually pinpointing the distant echo of iron horseshoes striking the road, about a half-mile or so further on. The trio ducked behind a hedge, and Aether carefully attuned himself to the aura of the stranger as he approached. They watched him and the horse slowly patrol past their hiding spot. He appeared to be a night watchman, although at this distance from the town he must have been instructed to greatly extend the reach of his rounds. He felt on-edge, slightly scared even, to Aether.

They kept going, Aether continuing to direct the paths Mountain should walk down, until they reached the first buildings at the edge of town. Even from their distance, they could all see the hive of activity that was the main gate. Men dressed in the village guard’s uniform swarmed the area, while yet others seemed to be constructing additional defences around the old wooden gate. The village was mostly surrounded by an old stone wall, some of which formed the walls of houses themselves, which had remained strong for centuries. The gates were however, until now, poorly maintained weak points. The ghouls’ hearts fell at the sight; sneaking in was going to prove challenging. They could climb the wall, but that would take time and draw notice, and certainly couldn’t be done with a potentially incapacitated water ghoul in tow.

They were met with the same sight further round at the west gate near the tavern. The patrons appeared to have spilled out onto the streets to watch as the guard and workers set about erecting a wooden construction, obstructing access to the village except via a small walkway, just large enough for a horse and small cart. They scouted around to the south, keeping the village on their left as they picked their way through the tree line. Eventually, they came across a narrow gap between two of the buildings that helped form the wall. With some difficulty, the three ghouls were able to squeeze through the gap, and they found themselves in a small alleyway. Now that they were amidst the maze of streets, Aether and Mountain went back to listening ahead to determine the quietest path to the centre of the village, Swiss shaking his head vehemently to get their attention if he felt a sharp lance of fear at a certain route.

After weaving their way to the centre of the village, the ghouls reached the high wall surrounding the town hall courtyard and the jail built into its foundations. It was immediately apparent how Dew had got in: the bricks were uneven and the perfect size for his nimble fingers to grip and climb. They wouldn't be able to break Rain out if he was in the state Dew had described though, the wall was simply too high to boost him over.

The trio began to scout around the wall, looking for an alternative. They soon realised the only breach in the imposing stone barricade was the single gatehouse that led to the town hall itself, and presumably the small window Dew had spoken with Rain through. The entrances to the cells themselves were too heavily fortified for an unplanned attack by the three ghouls alone, and the gatehouse was buzzing with activity even at the late hour. Aether scoured the area, searching for the tell-tale pinpricks of energy of additional guards by the cells under the walls but felt only a single glowing beacon in the darkness: Rain. He guessed the guardhouse and meters of stone separating the jail from the outside world rather negated the need for extra jailors. Clearly, a break-in through the gatehouse was impossible.

Away from the possible eyes of the guards, Swiss eyed the wall again. He reckoned he should be able to climb it; despite being heavier than Dewdrop he was also stronger and the most agile of the three present. Testing that the bricks jutting from the wall would hold he weight, he hauled himself up while Aether and Mountain kept watch, before passing him the small parcel of food and herbs they had for Rain. He paused at the top, hunkered down like a gargoyle as he surveyed the enclosed courtyard. There was no one around so he motioned to the others that he was going to investigate further, and dropped to the ground.

The small grates at floor level were immediately apparent in the moonlight, and Swiss made a beeline for the one from which Rain’s fearful scent emanated. He looked at the iron bars and made a mental note that if Dew was here, he could have probably melted through them, creating a gap just large enough for the lanky water ghoul to squeeze through. Peering into the darkness, his enhanced eyesight could just make out the shape of Rain, far below on the floor. Swiss acknowledged that the window was easily at Rain’s shoulder height, too high for him to pull his weakened body out unassisted, and too high for Dew to get himself out had he helped when he was here earlier. The window was also far too narrow for any of the rest of them to squeeze through, not to mention there was still the additional hurdle of the large courtyard wall Swiss had just climbed himself.

While Swiss was creeping around in the courtyard, Aether went on a mission of his own. Mountain agreed to keep the watch alone, as the quintessence ghoul slunk closer to eavesdrop on the guards and their boisterous conversation.

“…monster. Death’s too good for him…”

“…all those lives, and that poor girl…”

Aether shuddered at hearing Dew’s story recounted, and the plan for Rain’s execution confirmed. What he heard next made his blood run cold,

“…clearly not human. I say we should keep him around and see what the elders can learn from him.”

“How so?”

“Cut him open and see how he bleeds, for starters,” another voice chipped in, “if he does at all.”

As the conversation moved to the various ways the guards would want to torture Rain, and the experiments they could devise, Aether turned on his heel and fled back to tell Mountain. He’d heard enough.

Through the gloom, Swiss’s eyes began to adjust and soon he could resolve details of the ghoul slumped in the cell. Rain looked half-mad already, and it had barely been twelve hours since his incarceration. Swiss could see why Dew was so distraught earlier; the sight made his breath catch in his throat as he tried not to whimper. Rain’s glamour seemed to be only partially intact, his horns and tail that Dew had seen were now hidden away, but he still looked distinctly blue and inhuman.

“Rain!” Swiss hissed into the darkness.

Rain’s blue eyes darted up to the window, and Swiss thought he saw a flicker of recognition deep within them. Well that seemed promising, compared to the empty shell Dew had described earlier. Maybe the shock was beginning to wear off.

“We’re going to get you out of here!” Swiss whispered, hoping Rain wouldn’t see past the false optimism in his voice. His eyes glowed brighter in understanding.

“In the meantime we brought food,” Swiss pushed the small bag through the bars, smiling as Rain’s tail unglamoured itself and emerged to pull it closer to where he was chained. He ripped into it, and began chewing on some slices of dried apple.

“So,” Swiss didn’t know what to say, “how are you doing?”

Rain’s eyelids lowered, his piercing gaze becoming almost sardonic.

“Sorry, stupid question…” Swiss shuffled his feet until he was sat down, his knees beginning to cramp from the uncomfortable kneeling position.

The sarcastic glint in Rain’s eyes turned humorous, the water ghoul amused by Swiss’s awkwardness even in his current situation.

“They’re feeding you?” he asked, changing the subject. Still wordless, Rain slowly picked up a small metal bowl to show him, before pressing it to the ground and drawing water from the damp earth to fill it. He looked up at Swiss and flashed his fangs in what could have been a self-satisfied grin in any other situation.

Well, at least they were making an effort to keep him alive, Swiss thought wryly. He supposed they had to, if they wanted to make a public spectacle out of his hanging in a week. But he suspected they would still be trying to keep him weak, lest he try to hurt his captors.

“Did they do something to you, is that why you aren't talking?” Rain was often quiet, but he hadn't been totally mute like this since the day he arrived. He shook his head slowly, but it was quite clear to Swiss that he wasn't entirely unharmed, the shadow of a black eye standing out even in the dim moonlight. Rain purposely flicked his eyes to the cell door and back to Swiss, demonstrating that he didn't want to give anything away to any captors potentially lurking. Swiss supposed that made sense. Rain would be the one to suffer if they thought he was trying to escape.

“I see your magic came in then?” he commented, continuing to try and make small talk as Rain went back to digging through the bag of food, before sinking his fangs into a large piece of jerky. Rain’s eyes flicked up again, gleaming with what could have been a small shimmer of pride.

“There’s some herbs in that bag too,” Swiss continued, “they should keep your magic strong. You should think of a way to use it to protect yourself, in case we aren’t around to help.”

Rain laid aside the strip of meat he had been gnawing on before making unnerving eye contact with Swiss and grinning wickedly, although it didn’t reach his eyes. Swiss watched the water ghoul in awe, as ripples of blue sparks coursed across his teal skin, sparking between his hands as he held them near each other.

“Well that’s slightly terrifying,” Swiss mused, “you learned that just now?” Rain’s grin widened, his fangs sparkling. “No wonder you’re in solitary, little electric eel, they’re probably scared you’ll fry them all!”

A ripple of what could have been a purr drifted up to Swiss. Rain was in surprisingly good spirits now, considering his situation. Swiss only hoped it would last.

“Take care of yourself okay Rainbow? There’s guards everywhere outside so we have to be careful, but we’re working on a plan I promise.”

Earnest blue eyes begged him not to leave.

“I’m sorry, I have to go, Mount and Aeth are waiting just outside, I don’t want them to worry about me or get spotted themselves. I’ll be back tomorrow night with more food, you have my word.” Swiss felt infinitely guilty, leaving the young ghoul down there.

“I'll see you tomorrow, we love you!” He curled a hand around the bars as he stood up, his knees cracking loudly, like it was Rain’s hand he was holding. With a finally look and a wave, he turned back to the wall and set about hauling himself up.

As Swiss dropped back down the other side the others could see the grim look in his eyes and he could see the shadow of horror in Aether’s.

“What happened?” he asked immediately, as Mountain helped him steady himself on his feet, and pressed close to his side in comfort.

"Not now,” Aether whispered tersely, shaking his head as if to dislodge painful thoughts from it by force, “let's get out of here first. How's Rain?”

“Bruised and battered, but alive.” Swiss would elaborate later. After managing to keep a straight face for Rain’s sake, he didn’t think he could maintain his composure if he recalled what he had just seen to his pack. For now, their priority was getting back to camp and forming a plan.

Slowly and cautiously the trio made their way out of town, ducking into quiet alleyways and side streets. The walk back from the village was a sombre one. Rain's situation was clearly dire, and all the ghouls felt varying degrees of hopelessness at his situation. Swiss was very clearly shaken at having seen his young pack mate imprisoned and injured, and Aether was still in shock at the plans he had overheard. Mountain tried his best to provide comfort to his packmates; his earlier outbursts of anger had burned out, and now he was left as shocked and saddened as the rest of them. He didn’t need to be a quintessence ghoul to sense the turbulent emotions rolling off Swiss, or to feel how fragile he was right now. He stuck close to him the whole walk back.

Once they were safely back at their camp and contained within its wards, Mountain volunteered to take the first shift watching over their camp. Even with his protective magic in place they couldn’t be too careful. Aether watched in mild amusement as Mountain sat himself down directly at Swiss’s feet. He’d watched the two getting closer lately, and this was a distinctly protective move towards the multi ghoul. Long before Swiss had joined their pack, him and Mountain had been solitary creatures. They’d initially bonded over the fact that neither was interested in going out of their way to find a mate, so it was sweet for Aether to see this budding relationship unfolding.

Swiss finally broke his silence. He described Rain’s dark and dingy cell; how he was chained up in a corner, his glamour half gone. His injuries, and how he was too afraid of potential guards lurking nearby to speak. Mountain leaned closer to him as he told them how Rain seemed to be in better spirits than Dew had seen, how he had recognised him and even smiled. He purred in satisfaction when Swiss explained that Rain’s magic was clearly powerful, now he was able to use it, and how he had apparently developed a defensive protective ability alongside it. At this, Aether sat up straighter,

“He can shock people who touch him?”

“It looked like it,” Swiss shrugged. “I don’t know if he’s tested it yet.”

“Good,” Aether muttered, “he might need it after what I heard.”

Swiss and Mountain’s jaws had almost hit the floor when Aether recounted the snippets of conversation he had overheard.

“I don’t see how we could stop them,” mused Mountain, “not when Rain’s trapped so deep inside. We’d have to kill the lot of them…”

“…if they didn’t kill us first.” Swiss finished.

“We need a plan.” Aether agreed.

~~~~~~~

Back at the Abbey, the ghoulettes had leapt into action. Cirrus and Cumulus had refused to let go of Dew’s hands the whole time as he explained the situation, how Rain was in grave danger at the mercy of the humans. Sunshine had run off to find Copia, or wake him given the late hour, as the small group made their way to the expansive library to brainstorm ideas. Mist threw open the double doors, gesturing to the aisles of books.

“Let’s get to work.”

The four ghouls searched through books outlining ghoulish magic, protective wards, defensive amulets and more. Barely ten minutes later, the large central table was already littered in books they thought might be of use, when a panting Sunshine emerged from a small side door connecting to Copia’s small study and rooms. The man himself traipsed after her, bedraggled and pyjama clad.

“Dewdrop! How pleasant to see you again, even at this late hour.” He reached both hands out to clasp Dew’s, before having to pull back to stifle a yawn.

“My apologies, dear ghoul. Please, won’t you tell this old man about your pressing concern?”

Dew once again repeated his story; telling the gentle leader of the Abbey how he had found a pack and integrated amongst humans – that had made Copia raise a curious eyebrow – and how his youngest packmate was still learning to wield his magic when he had lost control. How the villagers were baying for blood, and planning to kill him.

“As I’m sure you know, if these people truly intend to kill him then they will succeed,” Copia looked sadly at the ghoul in front of him, “but that doesn’t mean all hope is lost. You all seem to have made a good start on your research, I will join you.”

The group of six continued searching through the library late into the night. Eventually, more of them were asleep than awake and Dew was struggling to make sense of the letters in front of him, his head nodding in exhaustion and threatening to fall into the pages of the ancient tome on spell-specificity.

“Let’s call it a night,” whispered Mist across the library, “we’ll get more done with fresh eyes.”

She had laid a blanket over a snoring Sunshine in an armchair, while Dew roused a half-asleep Copia and guided him down the narrow corridor to his own bed, prying the quill pen he had been taking notes with from his hand and laying it on the nightstand. Cumulus had fallen asleep against Cirrus, who herself had since dozed off, head leaning on her hand with a book open in front of her. Mist had been loath to wake the pair, but Cumulus’s back pain would undoubtedly flare up if she stayed like this. When Dew returned, they guided the sleepy air ghoulettes back to their room, before Mist dragged Dew by the hand into hers.

“C’mon Droplet, even if you don’t want a cuddle you don’t have to be alone right now.”

Dew curled up in her arms with no reluctance; after the last few days it was nice to feel like someone else was taking charge, and looking after him. He fell asleep quicker than he had in ages, feeling safe and surrounded by love and care. He only wished Rain could be feeling the same: the thought of the young ghoul spending yet another night alone in the cold, dark cell while he was here in this plush bed made him feel painfully guilty. That might, his dreams were plagued by visions of his pack and the ghoulettes being drowned by catastrophic floods, and hanged by men with vicious snarling faces.

Dew awoke alone and, judging from the light outside, near noon. He scrambled out of bed and threw on the set of clean clothes helpfully laid out for him. He silently thanked Mist for going to the effort of locating slightly tighter fitting items for him: they were practically the same size, but the floaty garments she and most water ghouls preferred always made him look like he was drowning in the fabric. Rushing to the library, he found Copia and the ghoulettes hard at work again, all huddled around one large ledger in front of Copia. In front of them on the table were several bowls of fruit, as well as bread and fresh cheese.

“Hello Dewdrop,” he looked up with a caring smile, “I hope you slept well. Please, help yourself to breakfast, or should I call it lunch!”

Dew chuckled politely, helping himself to an apple and sitting in a nearby chair, pulling his socked feet up onto the seat with him.

“Sorry,” he muttered, feeling guilty that they had all been hard at work while he slept the morning away. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”

“Nonsense!” assured Cumulus, “You needed to rest after your long journey.”

“You were sleeping like the dead!” added Mist, “I couldn’t bear to disturb you. Besides, we think we might have found something that will help.”

Dew perked up, leaning forward. “Really?”

“Sunny had an idea,” Mist beamed at her, proudly. “Why are we looking for solutions in our ghoulish literature, when it’s humans we’re dealing with?”

“They think they’re so civilised with their laws and supposed justice,” Sunny explained, “so let’s play them at their own game, and use their laws against them!”

Quirking an eyebrow, Dew stared at her in confusion.

“We think we’ve found a loophole.” Cirrus explained. “Something that, according to their laws, means they have to spare Rain.”

Finally understanding, Dew nodded slowly.

“You’re not going to like it,” she warned, levelling him with a wry stare, “it’s definitely not your style, but it might be the only thing that will save him!”

“What do you mean, not my style,” Dew asked suspiciously.

“How do you feel about marriage?” Cumulus beamed at him, head tilted in the picture of innocence, but Dew knew better. He looked at her like she had sprouted another head.

“Marriage?” he managed to splutter out. “What the hell does marriage have to do with anything?”

Copia huffed at the ghouls, as they threatened to dissolve the peace of the library with their bickering.

“There’s a law,” he began, his quiet voice still managing to echo with the gravity of his words, “that if a person condemned to death is proposed marriage under the gallows, then their life may be spared.”

“And who’s going to offer to marry Rain, when the entire village wants him and all the rest of us ghouls dead?” Dew asked incredulously.

Copia’s mismatched eyes stared into his, a glimmer or mirth at Dew’s confusion hidden deep behind decades of solemnity.

“You are.”

#what you've done you cannot undo #cw torture #cw injury #cw imprisonment #cw angst #trans dewdrop #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #foot of the gallows marriage #medieval au #historical au #enemies to lovers #ghost #ghost bc #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #raindrop #ghost fanfiction #em writes

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ancuninfiles · 19 hours

Text

Comfort pt. 5

Screenshot by @lavendarr00

6.7k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Named Tav (Nym) - 18+

Thank you to @gelican-gelicant Gelican AO3 for beta-reading, as always. 🖤

Summary: Nym's forced time away from her homeland - The High Forest - teaches her many truths within mere days; truths that she likely would have otherwise never come to know.

Tags: smut, fluff, angst, p in v sex, creampie, mating press, vampire bites, needy/desperate astarion, past refrence to trauma (or something), hurt/comfort, OC is autism-coded

MASTERLIST (The other chapters and other works)

Read on AO3 (Recommended)

Nym woke up in Astarion’s tent, feeling anxious and groggy from the blood loss. She stretched her arms into the air, releasing a deep, eye-watering yawn.

Beside her, Astarion lay with his eyes closed. Nym sensed she might have disturbed his trance, but assumed he needed to get more rest and was still attempting to do just that.

She scratched the nape of her neck, trying to brush her tangled hair with her fingers, a result of days without proper care.

With a slight grimace, she crawled gingerly towards her overstuffed pack, determined to locate the simple wooden comb procured just the day prior.

In the depths of her bag laid a jumbled assortment of yesterday's acquisitions, among them a fresh ensemble of lightweight leather armour for Nym. Comprised of a supple suede top, a flowing poncho, and loose-fitting trousers, the new attire promised both comfort and improved mobility for battle.

Nym’s stomach fluttered with anticipation as she envisioned herself adorned in the new garments, feeling the enhanced freedom of movement they would afford her in combat.

After rummaging through the contents of her bag and extracting her daily attire, Nym resumed her search for the elusive comb. Once retrieved, she swiftly donned her clothing, mindful this time to dress before exiting the tent, determined not to repeat the awkward encounter of revealing herself to her companions without their express consent.

She was striving to fit in and adjust to the new environment, and despite the discomfort of being away from her usual surroundings, Nym found herself cherishing this time outside the High Forest.

While she was living in the High Forest, she had been utterly ignored by most for her entire life; in contrast, here she was chosen to be a leader. The prospect still confused her, but she was becoming more accustomed to it with each day.

Maybe I'll stumble upon a book on leadership during our downtime, she mused.

Nym gagged as a wave of nausea hit her; she knew that she had to use the amulet, lest she would feel sickly all day.

With a whispered incantation, a blue light enveloped Nym, accompanied by the faint sound of wind chimes. As the magic took hold the light and sounds faded, leaving her feeling as refreshed as after a restful night's sleep.

Rising ungracefully, Nym emerged from Astarion’s tent to discover Gale already tending to the fire, diligently engaged with the cookpot.

A surge of apprehension swept over her; the prospect of establishing boundaries with Gale filled her with unease. Her gut instinct told her to simply brush aside the issue and feign normalcy - though that desire warred with a more practical one: facing the uncomfortable topic directly in the spirit of open communication.

Contemplating her options, Nym weighed the possibility of confronting him head-on the next time he made advances, opting to let him be the one to broach the topic first; but, the thought of his potential reaction to her rejection twisted her stomach into knots. What if he dislikes me afterward? Or worse, what if he gets angry?

Nym shuddered, attempting to banish the unsettling notion. As murky memories from her time in the High Forest resurfaced, her breath caught in her throat and her muscles tensed. Recognizing the need to divert her attention, she resolved to find a distraction.

In regards to Gale, Nym acknowledged her limited understanding of him thus far. There remained a chance that he might view her rejection as an opportunity for personal growth, or some such realization. I'll deal with that when the time comes, she concluded, hoping fervently to avoid that conversation altogether. But she had a feeling that crossing that bridge would likely be inevitable.

"Good morning!" Gale called cheerfully, snapping Nym out of her spiralling thoughts. "Fancy some eggs?"

Nym realized she had been standing tensed up, staring at Gale's back for far too long. She was grateful to be pulled into the moment by his seemingly kind voice and demeanour.

Her voice cracked as she squeaked, “Yes, please!”

Barefooted, she waltzed to the logs by the fire with her comb, socks, and boots in hand, sitting adjacent to Gale, shimmying her socks and footwear on.

Gale cracked two eggs in the pan and started scrambling, causing Nym to grimace; she loved eggs, but couldn’t tolerate the texture of scrambled eggs - even the thought of the sponginess touching her hard palate made her feel nauseous once more.

Gale, ever observant, couldn't help but notice Nym's fidgeting as her gaze lingered on his scrambled eggs. "Not a fan of scrambled eggs, I gather?" he inquired, casting a thoughtful glance towards her, squinting against the sun's glare as he tended to his culinary creation. "No worries, my friend. These are for me, then. My apologies for not checking with you first."

Nym breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a wave of comfort wash over her. "I hope I'm not causing too much trouble," she murmured apologetically, averting her gaze.

"Not at all," Gale reassured her, his tone lightening. "I feel rather at home while tinkering with food over a flame. It's a bit of a relaxation ritual, one might say." With a flourish, he transferred the scrambled eggs onto a metal plate, seasoning them with herbs foraged from the surrounding woodlands and a pinch of salt. "And how do you take your eggs?"

At that moment, Nym found herself pleasantly surprised by Gale's genuine kindness. Despite their minimal interaction since the crash, save for a brief encounter on the beach and her lingering appreciation for the book-like scent that seemed to emanate from him, his considerate gesture touched her, and eased her previous worries.

Gale is safe, Nym thought, like a mantra in her mind. I am safe.

Nym smiled and exhaled before pursing her lips to the side in thought. “Would it be too much to ask for boiled eggs?”

“Not at all! Actually, I have a kettle of water that I had boiled for tea earlier, it will make the job quicker, you see.” Gale began organizing an iron pot over the fire, and pouring the hot water into it, followed by two eggs.

Nym had always thought Gale was handsome, but this act of service made her blush shamefully. It made her want to cover her face and scream, the way he went out of his way to make sure that she would eat. Gods - was Gale going to put a wrench in her plan?

She felt some strange obligation, as if she was meant to be already devoted to Astarion - for Nym was nothing if not a woman of her word. She responded to the odd pang of guilt by methodically dispelling the physical sensation - the unwanted thoughts dissipating as she shook them away, starting from her arms, through her hands, and finally to the very tips of her fingers.

If Gale noticed her shiver, he didn’t say anything.

Nym took a deep breath and finally began to comb her hair, careful not to rip or tug at her sensitive scalp. Her hair was coarse and black, with undertones of copper that only revealed themselves in the sunlight.

As Nym worked through her knots, her attention snapped to Astarion as he leisurely emerged from his tent, adorned in his freshly acquired leather armour. His physique still struck her, his broad chest, narrow hips, and sharp jawline a picture of perfection in her eyes.

Nym shot her head away from the pale elf and closed her eyes tightly, continuing to work away at her locs. Fuck, she thought. It wasn’t fair that her mind kept going there. She wanted both of them, and she felt like she was going mad at the thought of it.

Yet, the memory of Astarion's distress, his tears, weighed heavily on her conscience. Caught between conflicting emotions, she felt trapped, uncertain of how to handle her overwhelming desires - or whether she should even address them at all.

Suddenly, a soft thud on the log beside her interrupted her thoughts.

“Hello, my sweet.”

Again with the pet names, Nym noted inwardly, feeling the familiar tug at her heartstrings. This man seemed to possess an uncanny ability to stir something within her, yet she remained resolute in not letting it show. With practiced ease, she slipped on her figurative mask as she finished combing her hair, causing it to poof out around her.

"Oh, hello Starry," she greeted, though her smile failed to reach her eyes.

Astarion cocked his head, regarding her with a quizzical expression.

Shit - he knows.

However, Astarion didn’t press further, and instead, he handed her a book - one of the books that she had nicked from the Dank Crypt: Wood Elves of the High Forest.

“I thought we could do a bit of reading, keep our minds occupied.” Astarion smiled roguishly while Nym took the book from him.

“How does a braid sound, Nym?” Shouted Shadowheart from across the camp, making her way towards their cohort.

Nym turned her head to Shadowheart. “Oh, hi! Good morning Shadowheart,” Nym beamed.

Nym entertained the idea of having a braid, imagining the pleasant feeling of keeping her hair from touching her dewy back amidst the sweltering heat. “Please - if you don’t mind,” she responded, nodding graciously with a smile.

Nym felt it odd to be pampered so, and she made a mental note to find a way to return the favour.

As Shadowheart positioned herself behind Nym, Nym passed her the comb, and Shadowheart retrieved a few hair ties from her pocket.

Nym opened her book, casually leafing through the pages and landing on a page about a quarter-ways through. While the Cleric uncomfortably tugged at her hair, she brought the open pages closer to Astarion.

She traced her fingers beneath the text, silently inviting Astarion to follow along.

“The wood elves, also known as Or-tel-quessir, descend from moon elves, wild elves, and sun elves who preferred woodland sanctuaries after the turmoil caused by the Crown War.”

“Wood elves are level-headed creatures, and arousing strong emotions from them would prove difficult.”

“Yeah, all except for me apparently,” Nym chuckled awkwardly.

“Wood elves often exuded an air of aloofness in contrast to their Tel-quessir brethren, their rugged demeanour detracting from their charisma.”

“Wood elves, being culturally polyamorous, would find much friction in romantic relationships with High elves who have a reputation of being strictly monogamous. Many hypothesize that said relationships are destined for dissolution, leading to a scarcity of offspring between the two races.”

Nym pondered, her lips pursed in contemplation, the final paragraph stirring discomfort within her. A quick glance at Astarion revealed his furrowed brows, a subtle unease washing over her as she noticed his clear perturbation.

Halfway done with her braid, Shadowheart tilted Nym’s head to the side. “What’s this?” Asked the cleric, concern coating her tone.

Nym’s eyes widened wildly and she slapped a hand to her neck, remembering the scabby bite marks that she unfortunately forgot to treat with a healing potion before leaving Astarion’s tent this morning.

“Nothing,” said Nym. Her body tensed rigidly, breath catching in a sudden stillness.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would guess that you’d been bitten by a vampire with those two suspiciously placed puncture wounds right atop your jugular vein,” Shadowheart pressed.

Nym’s face began to turn red from the lack of oxygen, her eyes fixated on a pebble near the fire and her lips tightened into a thin line.

There was no chance she'd break Astarion's trust by spilling the beans on his condition - even if that meant taking a vow of silence.

“He's a bloody vampire!” shouted Gale from across the fire, causing Nym’s eyes to snap up and scan the wizard who now stood staring daggers at Astarion.

“Vampire spawn, to be more accurate,” Astarion clarified, standing to match Gale’s fierce demeanour. Astarion quickly collected himself, sighing and opening his posture. “Look - I’m not going to hurt any of you, I swear.”

Nym’s vision was quickly becoming spotty with black and purple, and the last thing she heard before collapsing backwards and falling unconscious was a murmuring from Gale that was distorted by the ringing in her ears.

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“It’s probably the blood loss,” Gale protested.

“Gale, would you relax? You’re only going to distress her more; besides, her blood levels are completely normal.” Shadowheart held Nym’s head that had fallen back into her lap, her eyes slowly blinking back into lucidity.

“I second that notion - I too would appreciate the wizard’s silence,” Astarion said, kneeling next to Nym and placing a cool and soothing hand on her forehead.

As Nym stirred awake, her head lolled back, a warm smile gracing her lips as she locked eyes with Astarion, who leaned in with concern. She found herself nestled in Shadowheart's lap, the worry in their eyes melting into reassurance at her awakening.

Astarion brought his hand to her cheek, caressing it affectionately and stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Your dynamism definitely keeps things interesting, darling."

Nym felt slightly embarrassed in her current predicament, and she wasn’t sure whether or not she was permitted to speak on Astarion’s affliction yet.

“Astarion - I,” Nym started. “May I?”

She hoped that Astarion could infer what she was trying to communicate with the few words she spoke and the pleading look in her eyes.

Astarion nodded at Nym. “I’ve already told them, so share what you wish - though I do thoroughly appreciate your burgeoning loyalty. It does wonders for my ego,” he said, smirking waggishly, still holding Nym’s cheek.

Nym gave a brisk nod and straightened up on the log, heels pressing into the earth as she rested her forearms on her knees. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to address their group, her half-complete updo falling slightly as she lowered her head.

She adjusted her posture, bringing her knees together in the hope that a more proper posture might inspire her teammates to take her more seriously.

“Astarion is a vampire spawn, but he won’t hurt us,” Nym assured them. “He and I - well - we have an agreement.”

“How long have you known, Nym?” Asked Shadowheart.

“Since the first night. . .”

“And you didn’t think this was pertinent information to share with the rest of us?” Shadowheart prodded, her face screwed up.

Nym turned to see Shadowheart better, who sat on her knees behind her.

“Well - no,” she scoffed. “He’s very well-mannered - and well-fed.”

She pointed her nose to the sky snobbishly.

“Clearly,” Shadowheart remarked, shooting a piercing glare at Astarion.

Nym clenched her jaw tightly, remembering how guilty Astarion had initially felt about their little arrangement.

He coughed a nervous laugh, saying, “Look - I'm here in the spirit of openness and honesty.”

But Nym knew - despite the invisible wall he'd suddenly put up - that Astarion felt he was a burden; and she wouldn't stand for anyone guilting him for something he couldn't control.

Nym grunted, balling her white-knuckled fists. “Erg - you’d all better stop fighting about this. I told you, he won’t hurt us. I’m sure if he wanted to, he would’ve by now.”

A smirk danced upon Astarion's lips at Nym's defence.

“Shadowheart,” Nym began, rising to confront the cleric, “you said it yourself; my blood levels are normal. What’s the issue with a couple of minuscule - and consensually inflicted wounds? Forgive me, but I’m failing to see the issue here.”

A moment of silence enveloped the group until Gale interjected. "She speaks the truth."

"What?" Shadowheart exclaimed, her confusion evident.

“We all have our burdens, one way or another,” Gale explained calmly.

A sardonic chuckle escaped Astarion. "And here I thought the wizard lacked insight. Well then - I stand corrected." He reclined, resting on his hands.

Nym looked over to Gale appreciatively, quietly huffing. She really thought Gale might’ve had it out for Astarion after the whole incident at the beach, but she was delightfully taken aback once again by his courtesy today and it caught her off guard.

In a way, Astarion’s snarky remark described precisely what she was thinking, too.

“Fine. As long as he keeps his fangs away from my neck, I suppose I can accept him,” Shadowheart stated, her scowl turning into a cheeky grin. “Besides, we need each other, and having a vampire spawn on our side doesn’t sound half-bad.”

Relief flooded Nym. Now that Astarion's secret was out in the open, he could use all of his weapons in battle, filling his belly even more.

Many things about Astarion pointed toward a tortured past; from figuring out that he had never been full before, to the way his walls came up seemingly automatically at times, and even the distant look that periodically painted his face during their most recent coupling.

Nym yearned to understand him more intimately. Though she had few friends in the High Forest, she was well-acquainted with its cats; Astarion reminded her of a feral one. With feral cats, you begin by tossing them fish from a distance, gradually earning their trust until, one day, they begrudgingly accept the fish from your hand, convinced that it poses no threat.

Furthermore, if you were lucky enough, the cat might even come into your home and never want to leave once having a taste of true safety - away from the threat of potential predators.

Nevertheless, Nym was excited to watch Astarion fight whilst making use of his fangs and sanguine appetite.

She pondered what to say next, deciding on how a good leader might respond to all this. Perhaps something to boost morale. “You are all - very - er - good boys . . . and girl,” Nym stated clumsily.

The group fell into awkward silence, all eyes on Nym, who grinned nervously.

“Aha,” Astarion was the first to break the silence with high-pitched laughter.

“Nymsy, my dear - I can’t tell if you broke the tension or made it worse - either way, we’d ought to set out for the day now that that’s sorted,” he said, standing to wipe the dirt from his hands with a handkerchief pulled from his pocket.

What? Was that an insult or simply a jest?

Nym didn’t respond as Astarion stood up and adjusted his weapons and Gale handed her a plate with two peeled and salted boiled eggs.

“You are also quite the good girl,” Gale uttered happily, his features relaxed, eyes searching for Nym’s.

Nym’s face flushed as she grabbed the plate, releasing a small “Thanks,” as her eyes trailed up to meet his.

Shadowheart scoffed. “Would you two get a room,” she complained, continuing her work on Nym’s braid.

A quiet thud could be heard coming from the treeline behind her, causing her to flinch and spin her head around.

It was Astarion, who had thrown one of his daggers at a tree and was about to throw another.

Is he mad? Was it something I did?

Nym realized that she had to eat her breakfast before she started feeling sick, assuming that she may have been the cause for Astarion’s negative shift in mood.

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The cloudy day dragged on, and Nym would’ve been lying if she hadn’t admitted to herself that she’d been periodically choked up throughout it. At times, she’d found it difficult to focus on the tasks at hand, including during a battle with two tieflings who had captured their gith friend.

One of the tieflings had smashed the pommel of their blade into the side of Nym’s forehead, causing her to bleed and lose her balance. Her blood dripped rapidly into her eye, filling her sclera with a red fog and muddying her vision.

Astarion swiftly stabbed through the tiefling’s throat before proceeding to raise his voice at Nym. “Get up, damn you!” He yelled while Gale took care of the other tiefling.

She hadn’t even realized that she had fallen to her hands and knees until Shadowheart was above her healing her.

She felt utterly useless - yet, as she stood at the helm of her motley crew, she couldn't shake the lingering doubt that gnawed at her core like a relentless predator.

What could she possibly offer that they couldn't procure with greater finesse? In the symphony of her insecurities, the discordant notes of self-doubt played on, a haunting melody that echoed through the corridors of her mind.

I’ll never be good enough -

“It seems she’s had quite enough,” Gale interjected, rescuing her from the abyss of negativity once more.

“Tchk - if this leader can’t even face two tieflings, how do we expect her to help us in any other manner?” Lae'zel's words cut through the air, sharp and direct.

"Hah! Spare me," Astarion scoffed, "The one who ended up caught and caged by those tieflings has the gall to lecture us about leadership, while our own leader risks life and limb to save your ungrateful hide."

So he’s not mad at me? Then what’s going on with him? Nym wondered.

"One should refrain from casting stones while dwelling in glass abodes, as the saying goes," Gale quipped seriously.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “This is why I suggested that we leave the gith to her fate,” she stated, still kneeling beside Nym.

Nym couldn’t fathom why Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart were all on her side in this issue, especially after she’d shamefully fallen in battle.

“She’s right, in part. You all deserve better,” Nym conceded, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. “I will try to do better, in future. I’m sorry.”

Though her voice wavered, she knew acknowledging her shortcomings might help diffuse the tension and ease the harshness directed towards Lae'zel, whose prowess in battle aboard the nautiloid hinted at her potential in future conflicts.

She also hoped that her statement didn’t come off as too self-loathing, because she knew that too, would be burdensome.

Thankfully, her speech quelled the impending conflict for the time being, and Lae'zel made way to camp as the rest of their group continued to the grove once again in search of answers to their tadpole problem.

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The clouds had cleared by the time they reached the grove. This time, they made note to speak to every vendor before continuing on.

Astarion managed to steal quite a few arrows, and other items that were more easily accessible to take while Nym distracted the sellers by making conversation and purchasing the items that were too risky to nick.

She was able to acquire three more scrolls of Lesser Restoration for her “project” with Astarion through the vendors.

Nym knew that she should gather a couple more scrolls, just to be safe. She tried to hide the scrolls in her pack before Shadowheart or Gale were to notice; the fewer questions asked the better.

One of the vendors, Ethel, stood out among the crowd, an elderly woman with a weathered visage. Without much consideration, Nym divulged everything about their parasitic affliction, much to Astarion's evident amusement.

However, the reaction from the rest of the group was less jovial, their disapproval clear.

“I suppose we didn’t learn our lesson the first time around? Shadoheart interjected with a tight-lipped expression.

“To give grace, Nettie was trying to kill Nym,” Gale interjected dismissively. "But we must exercise more caution about our condition - something was. . . unsettling about that woman."

“She seemed positively demented, I’m just curious to see how this unfolds,” said Astarion with a cheeky grin.

“You’re something of a free spirit, I think, Astarion,” said Nym, nodding curtly and heading toward their next destination.

Astarion fastened his pack and walked behind her as the rest of the group followed suit. “It takes one to know one, darling,” he said, catching up with her and flashing a wink in her direction.

Nym stifled a giggle, acknowledging the camaraderie they shared.

Except for moments when he was upset with me, Nym thought, still reflecting on her day critically.

Nonetheless, in the event of a confrontation, the four of them could easily manage an encounter with a single elderly woman - of that much, Nym was sure.

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The horizon had all but snuffed the sun’s light, and Nym was elated to have found a total of five scrolls of Lesser Restoration during today’s journey.

She and Astarion sat across from one another in his tent, as Nym excitedly organized all five scrolls between them.

“There,” she said, hovering her hands over the scrolls. “Five will be enough I think.”

Astarion’s eyes and mouth fell wide open, his words seemingly caught in his throat. “You’re - serious about this?”

“Yup! I believe that the results of this experiment will become fundamental knowledge for you, and possibly other spawn, depending on where our lives take us.” Nym paused. “I mean - where your life takes you.”

Astarion’s expression rapidly morphed into a composed, devilish grin. Crawling towards Nym, he positioned his lips near her ear and snaked his hand up and under the back of her shirt, splaying his fingers possessively. “This is quite the gift - darling,” he murmured, his voice resonating at a low timbre that sent a chill down Nym’s spine and his breath tickling her lobe.

Astarion nipped at her ear, coaxing quiet moans from her throat as she began to melt in his gentle grasp.

Astarion sat back on his knees, the sudden loss of contact making Nym droop, unbidden. As usual, even the slightest physical affection caused her eyes to become heavy with desire.

Astarion neatly placed the scrolls off to the side of their bedrolls. “You’re sure you want this,” asked Astarion, offering her one last chance to withdraw.

“Huh?” Nym replied, snapping out of her reverie. Nym then scrunched her eyes shut and nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! For the pursuit of knowledge.”

She beamed. “Er - and if you want to use all of my body while drinking from me, I am - of course - impartial.” She gazed away, avoiding eye contact as a warm blush crept up on her cheeks.

“Just impartial?” Astarion cooed, wrapping his hand around the back of Nym’s head and gently lowering her onto the bedroll. His eyes roamed over her face, finally settling on her lips with a composed precision that seemed almost too controlled, as if savouring the moment with deliberate care.

Astarion crashed his lips into hers fervently, seeking entrance with his tongue and eliciting whines from Nym.

Nym reciprocated, closing her eyes and letting Astarion take control of her mouth as he climbed between her legs, gripping her waist.

He continued to massage her exposed waistline tenderly while placing chaste kisses in a line from her cheek, to her jaw, and then her throat where he would begin to suck her tender flesh into his lips without drawing blood.

Nym felt him holding back, reminding her why she felt so incredibly safe around him. She didn’t want to impose her desires, but her knees came up and her hips tilted upwards, unbidden.

Astarion groaned into her neck, his mouth disconnecting with a pop as his hips rocked into her warm core. His hand journeyed south, teasing just beneath the waistline of her pants.

“You seem more than impartial,” Astarion groaned with a sweat forming on his brow, becoming breathless.

It was true that Nym desired more, and she knew that if his hand were to travel any lower, he would find her weeping quim as evidence of that.

However, Nym felt Astarion’s hardness as he rutted against her, and she could tell how painfully tight his strays must be.

She witnessed the desperation of the handsome elf lying between her legs, noticing how he carefully avoided letting his hands wander too far. It intrigued her that a vampire spawn of two hundred years - finally free in a myriad of ways; to bask in the sun, darken doorways unbidden, and bed whomever he wished - displayed such restraint when it came to intimacy, seemingly valuing her word a great deal; or at least a great deal more than most of her previous partners who would’ve surely plunged their fingers into her nethers - and elsewhere - by now.

“Just admit it, my dear. You wish to feel me inside you - don’t you?” Astarion whispered, nearly moaning the last words as his fingers softly nudged below her belly and his hair grazed the side of her face.

The idea of retorting with “But you want me, too,” crossed her mind, but she was unsure how those words would sit with him.

Opting to protect his pride, Nym gave in with a “Yes,” and a, “please - I want you.”

Astarion took to her response by swiftly pulling his shirt over his head, before closing in on Nym’s lips with a hasty smooch.

He stood to remove his pants and his length sprang free, its tip glistening with seed already.

In the meanwhile, Nym removed her loose top and baggy pants with a flourish, readying herself for what she knew was to come.

“How do you want me?” Nym asked considerately, coming up on her elbows.

Astarion loomed over her and gestured his hand over her body. “You’re perfect right there, my love. I want to see that pretty face of yours when I. . .” He paused, breathing deeply, “unravel you.”

He descended on Nym, kissing her all over and inserting two digits into her entrance, palming her clit with practiced ease. Astarion made a satisfied sound when he felt how wet Nym was, and Nym gritted her teeth to try and stifle her cries while he brought his teeth to her breast, taking her mound into his maw.

He ran his tongue along her pebble and curved his fingers into her hole, pumping languidly. His teeth punctured the flesh on her breast and he began to suck vehemently, his voracious sounds sending vibrations through her body.

Just as she began to quiver around him, he lifted from her bosom, watching as her jaw slackened. He stroked her inner walls, prioritizing the tight circles he was creating with his palm on her nub.

He looked at her with an intense crimson gaze, his usually tamed hair clinging to his forehead. Astarion’s mouth was stained with her ichor, making him appear feral and wild - two things she typically thought him to be the antithesis of.

Nym was panting, completely lost in his touch and trembling wantonly.

Amidst the haze, she reached for his face and cupped his cheek in a lover's gesture. When her palm made contact with his face, his expression relaxed and he placed a sweet kiss on her wrist.

His hand sped up, coaxing more cries from Nym. Her orgasm crested and Astarion adorned a satisfied smile, watching Nym’s hand fall limply to her side.

Nym lay panting and twitching transiently while Astarion removed his fingers only to insert them into his mouth. His eyelashes fluttered closed as he cleaned his digits, humming around them.

He freed his mouth of his hand, a string of saliva connecting them for a moment. “Delicious,” he purred.

“The night has only just begun - and I have other means of making you come undone,” Astarion cooed, leaning into Nym’s ear once again. “And other things I’d like to make you cum on - if that’s quite alright with you.” His voice bore a deep husky tone that nearly made Nym faint once more.

Unusual for Nym during intimacy, she found herself unable to speak. She could all but ogle pleading eyes up at Astarion, his chest muscles rippling with each adjustment under the candlelight.

Astarion positioned himself between Nym’s thighs, kissing her face all over and thrusting teasingly between her folds, an affection that made Nym’s heart flutter. She had so many sexual partners in the past; she had slept with some women, and almost every man her age in her village, many partners of hers falling between or outside the binary of “man” or “woman”. Despite having been made to cum by so many peers, and even having been cleaned up for after trysts, never had she felt this continuous connection and admiration from someone that she shared a bed with.

It felt right - which in turn made something within her scream and tear away at her walls of self. She felt an immediate urge to snuff the screaming, to smother it into silence; but as Astarion thrust inside her at last, the proverbial screaming increased to a fever pitch.

Astarion pulled his face from Nym, who had started sobbing with a trembling lower lip. He immediately stilled. Panicked, his eyes were round and his brows canted up. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone low and serious.

Nym brought her forearms to cover her eyes and swipe the tears away. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she had to ruin this moment with Astarion because her brain concluded the ludicrous notion that she’d only been a warm body to everyone.

They liked me,

They finally liked me . . .

They wanted me around.

But no matter how many times Nym tried to reaffirm her counterfeit beliefs, the truth was ripping and tearing a gaping hole into her fermented soul.

Before she could think better of it, the words slipped from her lips, “Do you like me?”

She trembled, removing her arms from her tear-riddled eyes.

Astarion looked upon Nym, his lips parted and his hardness still seated deep within her. “I - yes, Nym.”

“But am I . . . more than just a warm body for you?” Nym asked. She felt she already knew the answer if she were being honest with herself, but she just wanted to hear it come from him.

Astarion paused for a moment, blinking at her in stunned silence. His face changed into something pained before he settled himself on his elbows, his face mere centimetres from Nyms.

“So much more,” he stated firmly.

“Are we . . . friends?” Nym said in a whisper, her wet brown eyes boring into Astarion’s crimson stare.

“At the least,” was the last thing Astarion said before diving for her mouth in a possessive kiss.

Nym’s lips matched his with passion, unlike any other time they had kissed before. She brought her arms around his back and pulled him close to her. Nym felt ridged scar-like bumps on his back with her fingers, and she massaged his skin delicately.

She pulled away from the kiss to breathe, as her nose was slightly stuffy from crying.

Astarion gazed at her adoringly while she caught her breath and then pulled her up onto him as he sat back on his heels, her knees resting on either side of him as he held her body close, still filled with his length.

The shifting in positions stirred Astarion within her slightly, causing her to clench around him, her breath picking up pace as she became accustomed to her new placement upon his lap.

His arms wrapped under hers, holding her close. Simultaneously, she encapsulated him, softly tracing along the scars on his back with her fingertips.

“Do you wish to stop?” asked Astarion.

Nym’s lower lip came out in a pout. She didn’t want to stop, she just wanted to feel better - to know that the person she was making love to wanted her for more than -

. . .

Her mind turned to fog, her memories swirling away like a colourful chemical oil spill in mud as she lolled her head forward, inhaling the scent of bergamot and rosemary.

“It won’t change anything between us, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Astarion reassured.

Nym felt oddly calm, aware of what she had just experienced yet unable to fully grasp her peculiar recollections and fragmented emotions.

“No - I want you, “ Nym pleaded, “don’t stop.”

She couldn’t entirely fathom it, but somehow she felt seen by him; almost as if he understood her paroxysm just now on a deeper or more personal level.

Ultimately, Nym wanted to feel better, and in that moment the way Astarion’s body connected with hers simply felt right.

It seemed he needed no further reassurance, as his hands trailed down to Nym’s bottom, lifting her before dropping her back down on his length prudently.

Nym carded her fingers through his curls while she began moving in rhythm with Astarion, his shaft reaching into her deeply.

She exhaled a breathy sigh, holding onto his shoulders for balance while she rode him, the subtle and typically imperceptible stubble on his face grazing her on the skin near her collarbone.

His breath came ragged before he fell back, calculatedly pulling Nym with him.

Nym searched for his lips and she pressed them with hers firmly while he brushed his fingers in her hair and then guided her head to the side, disconnecting their lips and exposing her neck to him.

The way his fangs grazed her throat made her shiver, all while Astarion’s pace slowed with one hand in her hair and the other grasping her hip.

His teeth punctured her tender flesh, and his arm that wasn’t in her hair hooked around both of her upper limbs as well as the small of her back, fastening her to him.

Once he was fully latched onto her, she could feel him sucking and groaning into her neck, his sighs vibrating his entire chest and reverberating through Nym.

Astarion held her taut, using his position to piston into her with great abandon while taking long sips of her lifeblood.

The initial pain of his bite always faded quickly, turning into something pleasant within just a few seconds. Nym felt Astarion grow harder and larger as he drank from her; this always happened when he supped while they were intimate. Not only that; his flesh grew tepid, and sometimes even warm against her.

How his already large member grew even larger inside her made the pleasure nigh unbearable, as she could feel his cock making contact with every inch of her walls come every thrust.

She was so close again, and as if he could taste it, he removed his fingers from her hair and snuck them to her clit, halting his gulps while he expertly readjusted but not unsheathing his fangs.

A few strokes of her bud sent her crashing into her second orgasm and milking Astarion with her core.

Astarion seemed to follow her thereafter as he removed his hand from her pearl and bottomed out, fully thrusting into Nym and holding her tightly against his hard ivory chest.

Breathless, Nym could feel herself being filled with his seed, the affection in his grasp and the blood loss causing her to feel weak.

With a grumble, Astarion replaced his possessive latch with the warm and soothing flat of his tongue, followed by his lips which kissed her tenderly.

Nym, recalling their plans for their experiment, perked up with the little energy she had left, “Why did you stop drinking - what about our experiment?”

Astarion sighed, his head falling back to the bedroll. He looked somewhat frenzied with blood coating his chin. He thrust into her once more, a sigh catching in his throat. “Not tonight.” He massaged her scalp and loosened his grip on her torso. “Just - stay with me, tonight.”

Nym’s heart skipped a beat at his words, and she wondered if he heard it; she hoped he did. Nym knew not if Astarion desired to put off their experiment and have a simple night for his own sake or for Nym’s. Perhaps it was for both of them, but it was a gesture that she didn’t expect and it made her stomach flutter with delight.

This time, the aftercare felt tired, and something about it felt more genuine. When they rested, they held one another closer than ever before, as if keeping something big and scary from taking one another away.

Nym caressed the large protruding scars on his back, and only hoped that someday he would feel comfortable enough to talk about them. Until then, she would simply hold space, just as he’d done for her tonight - a gesture she was wholly grateful for.

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.��✮˖⁺‧₊˚

The plot thickens o_o and apparently so does Astarion I hope you are all enjoying my nerdy lore dump, I honestly have been loving doing research and getting to share my findings with you in such a fun and engaging way! <3 love you!

Illustration of Nym by me:

#astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion x original female character #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion fluff #astarion hurt/comfort #comfort chapter 5 #astarion x original f! character #astarion x f!oc #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion fanfiction

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drowninginships · 2 days

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WIP Wednesday

HI everyone!! It's been a while. I've been stupidly busy lately, but I'm still here and still lurking. Thank you so much to @bookish-bogwitch, @mooncello, @monbons, and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for tagging me!

This is an excerpt from my Wing Fic, which I am proud to announce finally has a title! "Learning What I Know So Well" is coming along well. I finally figured out a title, plot, and structure... so, you know, all the parts you need to tell a story. Anyway now that I've got the framework figured out, writing it is a lot easier than just writing scenes and hoping for the best. Well, without further ado, here we go!

BAZ

The taut lines of Simon Snow’s shoulders bulge as he pulls them together and apart, again and again. Powerful cords of muscle dance under his skin. He’s started sweating, and I watch as it drips down the delicious cut of his body. (He’s gorgeous.) Still, despite how hard he pulls, the mighty wings affixed to his back whip up a vicious wind storm and his feet remain firmly on the ground. I know he’s frustrated. I’d know it even if I couldn’t read the frown on his face, even if I couldn’t see how much tension he’s always holding on to. This is the third time this week we’ve tried flying, and the third time this week he’s failed. “Snow,” I call out softly. We need to stop before he gets too far into his own head. “Come on, Snow. Let’s go back inside.” “No,” he says. He doesn’t elaborate. (He doesn’t need to.) (Not with me.)

That's it for this time around. Thank you again for tagging me! No-pressure tags: @valeffelees, @youarenevertooold, @roomwithanopenfire, @thewholelemon, @iamamythologicalcreature

#wipsday #wip wednesday #wip #simon snow #simon snow trilogy #simon snow series #simon snow salisbury #baz pitch #baz grimm pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #snowbaz #carry on #carry on trilogy #tag game

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months

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Bingqiu ponies (Happy Birthday @Piosplayhouse!)

#poorly drawn svsss #svsss #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #equineswap au #They live in the same universe: I'm making it canon right now #I do think there are probably better horse breeds to assign these two #but as far as my little PD-SVSSS guys go - I think these fit alright.#Arabian for the gracefulness and elegance. Beautiful horse (all horses are beautiful so its a close race)#(and the missing rib. Cause....you know....)#Didn't quite get the head shape right but there is always next time.#Shetland binghe for the handsome little guy energy. I personally think a non silly little guy LBH would be a shire horse.#This is 100% an open invitation to debate and discuss in the comments and tags btw. I am no expert on SV or horses.#Also HI PIO! If you're reading this I just want to say thank you a million times over for everything.#You've been so kind and supportive and I think you are a brilliant and hilarious person. The tides of the yaoi wars turned when you enliste #I hope this next year for you brings wonderful things. You're a brilliant force in this world and we all are drawn to your light.#Happiest of birthdays to you B*)

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viperwhispered · 1 month

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Too Hard

Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head. Part 1 here.

The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.

What a stupid thought to have because of you.

Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.

So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.

“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.

Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.

On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.

Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”

Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.

His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.

Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.

After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.

If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.

The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!

For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.

After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.

Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.

Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?

Could you possibly-

Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.

He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-

Jamil froze in his tracks.

The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.

Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.

Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.

Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.

Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?

Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.

What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?

Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.

He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.

Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.

“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.

“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.

As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.

And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.

Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.

All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.

“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.

Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?

Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.

Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.

“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.

Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.

“Hmm. Maybe he will.”

Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?

Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?

“You know-”

“So-”

You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.

Even your surprised look was so-

“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.

“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.

“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”

He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.

“No. It is not.”

You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.

Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.

“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.

Wait.

Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?

The thought twisted his stomach into knots.

Eta: you can find part 3 here, and part 4 here. Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end. Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day. I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)