#i have simply spent too much time waiting there for my connection in the cold. twice a fucking week for YEARS

[squishycheekanon]

Regency Price thot🌹🤍

I am working on Limerence and Part two of both mountain man and the pen pal au by popular demand. But while you wait for me to write those please enjoy this lovely Viscount John Price and his Viscountess.

Price sat waiting patiently, newspaper in hands reading the latest gossip of the ton. “Aristocrats.” He scoffed low under his breath. Being one of the wealthiest, best-connected members of the middle class came with privileges but too much gossip as far a Price was concerned. Unless it directly affected him he couldn’t care less.

The doors to the dining room opened and in walked a butler, white curly wig on top of his head, his hands wringing together in nervousness as he looked at his master. “Well?” Price asked without looking away from his newspaper, an interesting snippet about a whistle or a lady down or something or other caught his eye.

“My Lord she..” the lack of answer was beginning to agitate him, he rolled up the paper and slammed it on the table, finally making eye contact with the butler.

“What?” Price snapped.

“She doesn’t seem to be here My Lord.” He said, gulping with unease clear in his voice.

“One of the horses is gone too.” A maid had said a little too loudly as she rushed into the room with the important information. Everyone in the room cringed, each and every servent, perhaps at this point even the entire ton, knows if the Viscountess and one of the horses are missing, someone will either be fired or end up in the hospital.

A wave a darkness crashed through the room as John growled out “Find me who by the time I’m back from retrieving my wife.” His orders were clear as crystal as he rushed from the room, Simon, his number two following swiftly after him.

“My horse Simon.” John grunted pulling out his pocket watch from his jacket. After years of being married to you, he always knew exactly where to find you based on the time of day it was or day of the week.

You thrived in order and schedules, one of the many things that he loved about you. Loved knowing he didn’t have to worry where you’d be at eleven in the morning. Always the drawing room catching up the on stitching you’ve been putting off, frustrated when the cross stitch didn’t form the absolute way you wanted it to.

Simon, ever the loyal to a fault number two replied quickly and lowly, “Yes Viscount.” He began to rush ahead of John making it to the stables before him and barking orders at the stable boys to fetch the masters horse and saddle. Price didn’t bother with riding clothes or shoes, simply latching his everyday boot into the stirrup and hoisting himself up into his horse.

“Shall I follow My Lord?” Simon asked head bowed as usual.

“If you wish.” John didn’t stick around after that, whipping his reigns and taking off on the beautiful brown stallion. “Come on boy, we’ve not got long before it rains!” John shouted to his horse as if the creature actually understood him, though in his fear he did not care.

The looks of the sky had him worried, the last time you went riding in the rain you caught pneumonia. He remembers how you shivered, how you were covered in sweat yet cold and how you burned to the touch. He never wishes to see you that way again. These thoughts had him pushing his horse harder to get to you faster. By the cherry tree you should be, and oh does he hope you are.

You however had just become done with your rage fit and were about to leave. Stupid Miss Carmichael, one of the bitchiest women in the ton. Not even married and yet she had the gall to mock you about not getting around to giving John a child yet. Joking about possible infertility, the words made you sick as did her audacity.

You had been married to your husband two years now and yes you were yet to bore him a child. Though the first year of your marriage, due to it being a simple arrangement, you spent it away from him. Always avoiding him, even on your wedding night you locked yourself in your room.

Though finally he managed to get you to open up to him, taught you many things, you began to love him. He had loved you however since the first moment he saw you. More so when you had advertently put him in his place after he was rude to a servant.

You had spent the second year, still getting to know each other and becoming one as husband and wife didn’t happen until three months ago. It had been essentially two years of little innocent hand touches here and there, longing looks and John standing too close to you at balls and events just so he could feel your warmth and smell your scent for longer. You were both still making up for lost time, having children was not at the forefront of your minds. Well not yours anyway.

You sighed glancing at the horse you’d rode here on, you’d best get back to join John for breakfast was your first thought. Even though it would take barely a minute for him to see you were upset and demand who had made you that way. You didn’t need to put your burden on him as much as he always insisted that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do as his wife.

Blinking up at the sky, you saw rain clouds rolling in and started to feel the drizzle of water falling down from above. Then a clap of thunder and you instantly regretted your decision to ride out here after your awful interaction with Miss Carmichael earlier. “Wonderful.” You sighed annoyed as you pulled your cloak hood over your head and made your way back to the black horse waiting patiently for you. One last look at the cherry tree and you set off into the eye of the storm.

“That’s it girl yah!” You whipped your reigns, both feet tight in the stirrups. You never rode side saddle like most women do, preferring to ride properly. Just as the cherry tree was almost out of a view, the most spectacular sight came bounding toward you. Your husband Viscount John Price gallantly riding his brown steed toward you.

“Darling!” His yell was so quiet in the midst of the rain and thunder, though it was enough to have you stopping your horse and remaining stationary as he began to slow down the closer to you he got.

Pulling on the reigns John came to a halt, horses next to one another legs touching. “Before you say anything,” you began blinking up at your handsome husband who was staring down at you heatedly, he nods encouraging you to go on. “It wasn’t raining when I started riding.”

You give him a smile, and despite the fact that you’re wet through, chilled to the bone, and as far as John is concerned in desperate need of a hot bath, he thinks you’re the most beautiful sight to behold. He smiles back leaning in close to you until his nose brushes against yours, his strong hand coming up to cup your jaw as he whispers into your mouth, looking you dead in the eyes.

“I’m not mad my love, but make no mistake, once you’re warm and dry I plan to bend you over my desk and fuck you from behind. Keep you stuffed with my cum all day, then you can tell me the reason for your riding today and who I need to talk to.”

[trillscienceofficer]

Fic commentary (DVD extras style) on chapter 2 of “Best Left”, which is when the plot and the drama really kick into gear.

(The commentary for chapter 1 is here.)

Inside, it’s all blue shadows again, except for the faint green lighting of the regenerator coming from a few meters away from the door. Standing immobile under it, Seven’s silhouette. Raffi rushes to her. It is simple enough to wake Seven—there’s a built-in emergency shut-off, a large red physical switch which she had shown to Raffi during the building process. She can easily spot it even in the green glow of the machine, grey rather than red.

As I mentioned in the previous installment of the commentary, I spent some time wondering about the regeneration device(s) Seven might use in the Picard timeline. I liked the idea of a big physical switch that could quickly power down the machine, it added to the image of 'built out of readily-available components' I wanted to convey, although obviously is it's just one of the ways in which it can be powered down. I have to imagine that this regeneration device can be connected to the ship's computer so that Seven can be woken up if there's an emergency and is alone on the ship (which is usually the case). I hope this big red switch is not too incongruous even if I didn't find find a good place to explain my reasoning in full in the fic.

She can’t lose any more time to fretting. Raffi reaches up and flicks the switch. The regenerator powers down, lighting included, and Seven’s eyes flicker open. She stumbles; Raffi grabs her in between her arms before she can fall flat on her face.

If I ever were to commission art for this fic, one of the scenes I'd like to have drawn would be this one; Seven stumbling, half-asleep and in the dark, in Raffi's arms.

“How is she,” she demands, beside the motionless form of her old comrade. The cold hue of the bay’s lighting makes Seven’s eye sockets dark and hollow, and her hands are closed into fists. Emil, on the other side of the biobed, simply obliges her. “Her blood oxygen level is now in the safe range. She had a few cuts and bruises but isn’t in any grave danger.” Raffi notices that the blood and the black eye are gone from Torres’ face. “I was waiting to revive her for a final check for an eventual concussion, even though scans have that at a low probability.” He pauses, squints, and then moves around to get closer to Seven. “You, however—”

Seven is a mess <3 but this mostly goes to show how apprehensive Raffi is in this tense moment, when she still is trying to parse what's going on and worrying about Seven's state.

She mumbles something that Raffi can’t hear, and Seven’s shoulders lose some of the tension they were carrying. “Take it easy. You took a beating,” Seven says, with sudden, unexpected softness. Torres blinks again, turns toward the woman at her side with narrowed eyes. “Seven? Is that you?” “It’s me.” Torres tries a smile, but she shuts her eyes again with a wince. “You look like shit.” “So do you,” Seven retorts, her own amusement tugging at her lips. A whisper to Raffi’s side. “Wait, do they know each other?”

I am still inordinately pleased with myself at this whole exchange lol instead of killing my darlings I pretty much left this piece of dialogue unchanged since one of the first outlines I wrote down for this story. I hope it conveys the sense of a shared history between Seven and B'Elanna, history that may not be entirely confined to the Star Trek: Voyager timeline even if echoes of it are still present, without saying explicitly what it is. Raffi is certainly observing Seven's reactions very closely in order to get a sense of who this person she's only ever seen in the news might be for Seven. And then there's Elnor and Soji, who still have no idea of what's going on at all.

Torres lowers her hands and seems to become aware for the first time that there are other people around her other than Seven and Emil. She takes in her audience with what Raffi assumes is wariness. “Is this your crew, Seven?” “Don’t worry,” Seven replies, “They’re all friends.” Raffi presses her lips together at the noncommittal answer—really, Seven? I get that you’re angry that I didn’t wake you up sooner, but we acted exactly like a crew. Or do you hate the idea of having one so much?

So I don't know how clear it is to readers but again this one-two-three of reaction is pretty much the core of the interpersonal conflict between Raffi, Seven and B'Elanna, and it's essentially all caused by the three of them all having imho similar issues re: trust, fear of abandonment and actually spelling out what it is that they need from each other. I think it makes sense that all three have similar problems because of their traumatic pasts and a present that never really allowed them to sort through any of that (maybe with the exception of B'Elanna, although she still carries a lot of baggage around), not to mention the guilt, especially in Seven's and Raffi's case, for the way they (believe they) have hurt the people they cared about the most.

Essentially Seven has been isolating herself for decades at this point, and B'Elanna is one of the few people she talks to/meets regularly and even that means, like, once a year or less. Said isolation means Seven has never told B'Elanna about La Sirena's crew, and B'Elanna is surprised to find out that Seven has people close to her again and eventually hurt that Seven did not trust her enough to let her know, especially the 'I have a girlfriend now' part (although the reasons for why Seven didn't tell her and why B'Elanna is so hurt are explored later in more detail). Seven is unwilling to admit that these new people are actually a crew because confessing that she now trusts and is close to other people (like she was close to and trusted the Voyager crew long ago) is something she's not ready to do lest something terrible happens to them because of her. Raffi in turn is hurt by Seven's refusal to concede that she, Elnor and Soji represent a crew, because to her it so clearly indicates a lack of trust on Seven's part, exacerbated by the fact that Seven seems to care for her old shipmate so much in comparison.

The rest of the story is, in my intention, all of them pretty much stumbling over all these obstacles until they tentatively find a way past them, in large part thanks to Raffi's analytical approach to everything, and also because what's a better bonding experience than being chased by a warship through an asteroid field and then trying to hijack said warship?

“Wait.” Torres squints at him. “Deactivate? Are you an EMH?” “Emil, at your service,” he replies, quite pleased with himself at the recognition. Torres doesn’t share his enthusiasm. She turns to Seven and says, “An EMH? Are you kidding me?” “It was not my idea,” she replies hastily.

Again, a little exchange I'm very fond of. Difficult patients should stick together, right? I think (or I should say, I hope) Seven and B'Elanna may have given each other some space to air mixed feelings about the Doctor, as hinted by that famous interaction in “Imperfection”. B'Elanna finding Seven in the company of another EMH here makes things worse between them for this reason—there are so many things that Seven hasn't told her, and that seem to contradict everything B'Elanna has come to expect from Seven. Especially not after Seven confessed to her that she's killed Bjayzl, but that's a part of their conflict that is explored more later.

“So, you trust her?” Seven frowns. “Of course.” Raffi tilts her head. “Because she used to be a senior officer on the USS Voyager?” “How many times have you read her Starfleet file already?” Seven retorts, forcefully sticking her left arm in the vacuum suit. “Oh, don’t start. It’s not as if it’s a secret who she is.”

I love mess. I have to imagine this type of fight happened somewhat regularly between Seven and Raffi especially early on in their relationship, with the former bristling at anyone trying to get to know her and the latter the kind of person that simply has to know even to her own detriment, which in turn I think reminds Seven a bit too keenly of her own younger self. If this particular tense conversation doesn't spiral into an outright fight it's because both of them are desperately trying to stay on task as well—the rest of their back and forth lays out the same dynamics I've tried to explain in a point above.

How else Raffi could’ve understood the wildly different emotions that the memory of Admiral Janeway seem to elicit in Seven, if she had not done her own research? (Raffi guesses it’s the mix of deep gratitude and equally deep resentment that Starfleet legends seem to engender in people they take under their wing—not that she would ever admit that to JL.)

Again, a darling I didn't kill... I got a kick out of this parallel and imagining Raffi coming up with it. I DO think that if a Starfleet legend takes you under their wing, you're basically bound to go through the spectrum of emotions about it for the rest of your natural life—and I meant this is a bit cheekily in the case of two legendary captains I have mixed feelings about myself, but they're not the only ones for whom this applies. I have complex feelings about mentorship in general; I found out in my adulthood that I'm unable to fit the role of either mentee or mentor and this has caused me no small amount of grief. I think some of this bled through on my take on Raffi in this fic, in which she's reflecting a few times on her role both as as Picard's second in command on the USS Verity and her way to care for Elnor, remaining ambivalent throughout without any clear resolution.

Ostensibly happy life with her Starfleet family and friends—until the synth ban. Torres then resigns from her post, divorces her husband, gets joint custody of their daughter. Disappears, over the years, in the wide cracks where all non-aligned orgs operating on the Federation borders seem to live these days. Does her daughter hate her for that, Raffi asks herself sourly. She forces the thought out of her mind. That’s pure projection—not a good mental state to ask questions. And Raffi does have a few queries for Torres.

Another piece of the puzzle in the middle-aged women drama! Raffi recognizes that she's projecting quite a bit on B'Elanna from the very start, but even if she does she isn't exactly able to stop herself from doing it (which I think it's extremely relatable—knowing your own patterns doesn't always translate in having developed effective countermeasures, and Raffi has essentially just gotten out a fifteen-years-long depressive slump). I think it's also hard for Raffi to not project because here is another woman whose life has changed completely (and whose marriage collapsed) after the synth ban, except B'Elanna has been doing great, necessary work ever since. It's not the kind of information Raffi can take with any kind of objectivity, imho.

She’s still very pale, burrowing in her suede jacket with her shoulders slumped, but she also seems more at ease, sitting with her weight on her folded right leg. Her knee-high boots must be as well-worn as the smooth elbows of her jacket.

idk guys, my dad used to wear this suede jacket everywhere and now I think it's THEE piece of clothing for mechanically minded, DIY people. And I couldn't leave out the boots, of course.

“I’ve heard about Coppelius,” Torres says, while Raffi walks down the stairs. Ah, the trade-off of leaving Elnor unsupervised with their guest. “I wondered if Seven had something to do with crashing a Borg cube onto the surface of a planet,” Torres continues. “She has a knack for—” “Being in the right place at the right time?” Raffi finishes for her, as she walks over to the table. She smiles, making herself as unassuming and nonthreatening as she can.

I'm also very proud of this scene between Raffi and B'Elanna, in which they're both so obviously taking the measure of each other, alternating between wariness and nonchalance. I also had fun throwing Elnor in the mix because his presence highlights that some of what they're doing is essentially posturing. Rereading it I liked the tension—these aren't the best circumstances in which to meet.

“You said you were attacked? And that your computer core was stolen?” “Yes. I was headed to a rendez-vous near the border, with people I worked with before. Instead of the old shuttles I expected, a warship showed up. Well, I think it was a warship,” Torres amends, “Because to be honest I couldn’t take a good look at it. It seemed to appear in and out of nowhere, and I was too busy trying to avoid its phaser cannons. Those were definitely not from a civilian ship.” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t do much, in any case, it was much faster than I was even at warp. That’s when I tried the subspace eddies, to see if I could slow them down—but then my shields were suddenly toast and my computer core was being beamed out. That’s when I got stranded.”

The bit of the plot I laid out here is something that remained pretty much unchanged from the first outline as well—essentially I had this very vivid image of B'Elanna's shuttle being attacked by a mystery ship, and then I reverse-engineered what lead to that particular outcome.

They’re getting to the heart of the matter, finally. “I’ve been meaning to ask—why would they be interested in stealing your computer?” Torres gives her a lopsided smile. “I am—good at fixing things. Warp cores, defensive systems, repurposing old tech. You name it, I’ve probably tried to bang it back into shape. I worked with all sorts of people, over the years, and over two quadrants” she adds, looking into the half-empty mug. “I have a lot of logs, to keep track of what I did for whom and in order to not get caught into feuds or other sorts of messy situations. It’s—coordinates, lists of equipment, people. Warp signatures. Even access codes, which might have changed after I used them or might’ve not.”

Heartfelt headcanon alert!! I think B'Elanna would find a lot of meaning in turning her life around this way, essentially taking what she loves doing and putting it in the service of mutual aid, even if it's a hard and thankless task. She would also have no illusion about what that entails, and how to survive in situations of conflict, I think.

Raffi is chilled to the bone. “That’s a lot of sensitive data.” Not to mention terrible info-sec all around. “Is the core encrypted at least?” “Look, I know what you’re thinking,” Torres says, glaring, “but I’m not stupid. Reliable and trustworthy offsite data storage is a little hard to come by, in my line of work. So yes, the data is encrypted, and I expect it to hold up against attacks for a little while at least. But it won’t last forever.” Raffi leans back, crossing her arms. She probably would’ve done things differently—had done things differently, during her self-imposed exile from society, getting lost into all sorts of information rabbit holes. She didn’t get rid of all her redundant copies and storage options even after being offered her Starfleet commission back. But Raffi hadn’t exactly been out there, had she? With how the pieces were constantly shifting in the sectors beyond the border, the only loyalty you could be sure of was to yourself. Granted, that’s only if you aren’t prone to self-destructive benders.

I've tried super hard to give Raffi opinions on stuff that concerns her (former) line of work, and this is one of them. She can recognize that B'Elanna didn't have the best info-sec because of her circumstances, but Raffi still thinks it was a terrible idea.

Torres’ eyes flicker to Elnor then back to Raffi. “Huh. I can see Seven has made some interesting friends lately.” Raffi could say the same about Seven’s friends from decades ago, but first she needs to find out what kind of interesting Torres exactly is. [...] Now that's what I call interesting, Raffi thinks, taken aback. The woman in front of her seems to know it too, with the way she’s meeting Raffi’s gaze steadily, as if she’s daring Raffi to have an objection to the absolutely batshit thing she’s just claimed to have done.

I can imagine that even after the return in the Alpha Quadrant, B'Elanna is still fond of crazy solutions for difficult problems, and it might just be the kind of wild feat that makes Raffi pause because I think she likes this kind of daring in people (see what she says to Soji in the show). And so here Raffi is, being wary of this woman and the rapport she and Seven still have, projecting a bit on her, and kind of admiring her. It's a complex, explosive mix of feelings and I think it can easily lead to attraction (as it does later).

“It’s—really nothing important,” she says, closing the holo-interface with an impatient flick of her left hand, “I’m probably just thinking too much. We just extracted her from a near-death situation, and I’m being a hard-ass.” Soji’s smile widens. “You did point a phaser at me the first time we met.”

Raffi blinks, Seven’s sudden apathy making very little sense. She takes in the scene properly; Seven and Torres standing apart, pointedly not meeting each other’s eyes. Elnor hangs out a bit to the side, hands clasped behind his back and a frown on his face. Long faces all around. What the hell happened back there?

I love Soji so much... she WOULD bring that up as a joke. I just had to. I also like the rest of their conversation; I think Soji really trusts Raffi's opinion and I've tried to make that clear there.

Raffi sighs, bringing both hands to her face, on the bridge of her nose. She’s the conspiracy auntie now, isn’t she? God, that’s so sad.

The show is a bit ambivalent, I think, in letting us know what is Raffi's own opinion on her quest to find out what was really behind the Mars attack. While Raffi was eventually proven right I don't think she's proud of how bad she made things for herself while pursuing her goal (even beyond the fact that I'm personally in disagreement with the way the show validates conspiracy theories). I think that after s1, Raffi's assessment of her past actions and fixations is also complicated by the fact that she's trying very hard to move on. The quote above is where I landed—a bit of self-deprecating humor.

I love mess round 2. B'Elanna wants to be out of La Sirena as soon as she can, given everything she's seen that Seven has not told her about, believing she's better off on her own, and Seven obviously doesn't understand why she wants to leave so soon in her state—hence the fight, still a common occurrence between them. But obviously Raffi doesn't know about B'Elanna's motivation at this point.

Raffi walks over to the bed, and sits down on the mattress beside Seven. “Are you worried for her?” “Hard not to be. She says she can manage alone, but she’s without a ship now, and she needs to get her computer core back soon or there will be consequences.” “And the people who stole it and left her for dead have a lot of firepower on their hands,” Raffi adds. Seven turns to her. Quirks her ocular implant in a gesture Raffi quickly learned to love, even if it often leads to heated confrontations. It’s not the case this time. “What are you thinking?” Well, time to explain herself. “Maybe it’s nothing, but I think Torres is not telling us everything about her attack. Her version is—missing context. And if you say you trust her, but she’s shutting you out as well—” Seven twists her mouth. “I don’t like the sound of that.” “I don’t mean that she’s lying to you, it’s just—” “No, I understand.” Seven reaches out to her again, placing her left hand implant on Raffi’s right. It’s cold, just like earlier, but once again the touch is steadying. Seven continues, “I just do not like to consider it.” She takes a big breath, then exhales. “Then again, it wouldn’t be out of character. B’Elanna can be—cagey.” The kettle to the pot, Raffi thinks wearily.

I think I wanted to conclude the chapter in a way that suggested that Seven, despite Raffi's misgivings, does trust her and her judgment a great deal already. I thought a lot about the kind of relationship they would have, even beyond what we've seen on the show, and I think Seven can see very clearly how smart Raffi is and how listening to her helps break Seven out of patterns in her life that would otherwise be inescapable—a thing Seven is also pretty scared of, I think, which is the source of a lot of their problems. The presence of B'Elanna, and the fact that they're already fighting, forces Seven to be a little more vulnerable, which goes a long way to smooth things out between her and Raffi (see also the way she asks Raffi to stay with her while she regenerates).

“Alright. I’ll stay then, and be unconscious with you.” Seven’s laugh, an almost silent affair, is another one of those rare rewards that Raffi will never get tired of witnessing.

I always thought Seven's (very rare) laughter would be almost silent, and tbh I don't care if the Picard show contradicts this. I still like the way this chapter ends a great deal.

[sorcerous-caress]

Ok ok ok I'm very new to the human kink thing but I'm wondering if there's some kind of planar effect associated with it??? Like I can just imagine the idea of star elves and other eldarin who come from the feywild and spent their whole lives being so immersed in magic that if they ever encounter a non-spellcaster human for the first time it's just like wow. this mf has zero magic about them. I wonder if it's a strange sensation, like noise cancelling headphones, and that lack of magical energy might feel relieving or sexual for them. Idk if it's exactly dnd canon but I've always imagined magic aligned entities to be able to sense magic like a buzzing in the air, so a lack of that buzzing would be entirely wild for them. Either way, magical radio silence = sexual exploration for eldarin and I fully support it

(also I love love loveeeee your work and your dnd theories and fun inquiries have led me to learn so much more cool lore and it's shaped some of my interspecies interactions in-game as a DM so tysm for everything you do 💜💜)

Wait really? I inspired some of your moments as a dm? Omfg please tell me I'd love to listen if you're willing to share <33. Thank you so much for the praise!

Also I love your theory! I hold similar ideas, that concept is too cool to pass on.

I've seen one similar to its concept in a game called "Echos of the Fey"

So elves in this game, average elves not just eladrin, are all born with magic. Because all magic comes from the fey and all elves share a connection to it.

Humans can learn magic too by using the hammer method and seeing what sticks on the wall, but they can never connect to the fey.

And the fey is exactly like you described. It allows to elves to effortlessly connect to each other, feel and sense each other's presence before seeing each other. It allows parents to feel when their children die and allows lovers to sense when their elf partner is in danger.

Elves can share their emotions through the fey too, they don't need to use words or explain things. They can let the other person feel exactly what they're feeling.

It was described as a constant song, a different melody from each elf in the sanctuary they all lived in. Going on at all times. And sure one elf can supress their own song but they can't stop hearing others'.

You can also speak words into the other person's mind using the fey. If they give you permission to dive deeper into their soul, you can even tell if they're lying about something or being honest.

But again, all of this only applies if the two people are elves. Even sorcerer humans wouldn't be able to feel it or connect to the fey.

It's also why elves seem cold or detached to humans, they are so used to the fey and the immediate connection and trust it gives them in other elves, that they don't bother to learn how to properly express their emotions with words or facial expressions. As a society, their inner personal relationships are always reliant on the fey.

In that game, one elf does move to a human settlement and he describes it as radio silence. That sometimes when he's around so many elves, he wonders if his ideas are truly his own or simply from other elves through the fey.

That being near humans gives him more individuality, forces him to work hard to establish trust with someone rather then immediately earn it. To learn to express his emotions rather than assume the other person can feel them.

It is radio silence. There is no music except for the ones humans deliberately play with their instruments. Even then, anyone can misinterpret its meaning with no definitive answer.

In that game, there are no other races besides humans and elves. And no sub-races for elves, they're all high elves.

But that theory still holds up if we integrate it to dnd! With some adjustments. It explains why elves are so reclusive, why they prefer the company of other elves over other races, and why two elf strangers seem to almost click immediately.

The fey is a constant overstimulatation, like getting constant ads in a video. Some elves learn to tone it out while others are so fed up with it that they'd rather lose their own magic than stay connected to it.

Which is why those ones would move to human cities, would prefer the company of humans and find joy at how expressive they are, at the long trials each friendship has in order to earn their trust.

For once their mind is clear, no meddling fey making them feel other's emotions or hear their thoughts. Only their own thoughts in their brain, everything they feel is truly their own.

Except when another elf is nearby.

But again, each elf can choose to suppress their own presence in they fey, just not others'. So, I like to think that elves in human cities came to a collective agreement to supress their own presence in the fey to not bother each other, also to not make the humans feel left out.

Anyway, exposition over, time to talk about the actual kink.

So remember that dog drawing contest meme? This one?

Where, yes, the second drawing was so beautiful and amazing, but the first place one held an undeniable charm to it.

I think that's how eladrins and star elves view humans.

Ofwjofwjofjwks now hear me out!

They're so used to everyone around them brimming with magic, for other fey creatures' appearance to change drastically through the season, wearing the ocean waves aa a dress or growing a cherry blossom tree as hair.

Imagine a human in comparison, how simple and plain we would be, how utterly new and adorable in their views.

Simplicity has its merits, if done right then it can be as beautiful as complexity if not more.

A human, devoid of any magic and only wearing their own body and clothes as decoration, would be beyond this world for elves and eladrins, literally.

There is another game i played that had human wizards talking about the fey world and the dangers of it, i don't remember its name.

But the main reason why humans were told to avoid the fey world and never go there, is because their souls shine bright like a beacon amidst it.

Every person and creature in the fey world knows magic beyond our comprehension, and all of them know how to hide their souls and lock it. Like installing anitmalware and a firewall on a computer with proxy to prevent tracking.

Humans are the boomers who uninstall system 32.

Our souls are just up for grabs, literally on a silver plate for any fey who comes waltzing in and tricks us into some verbal contract. We have no magic to detect them or to prevent them.

Humans don't last in the fey realm, everyone wants them. Even the most talented wizards who live there, never stay for long or always take a break every now and then.

You are literally the lighthouse, siren and mist amidst the fey sea.

To an elf who is tried of the magical noise, you're like a comfort blanket. Warm and makes them ignore the world outside.

They're beyond infatuated with how much you steal all of their brain's attention, focus all of their scattered thoughts on you or the simplest of things.

How you express your joy with laughter, how you spent time cooking a meal, how tears collect down your face when you cry, how you tap your feet or click your tongue.

Primal life in its purest forms, the most bare form a soul could ever take.

You're the most simple shape, and for that, you are loved, adored for how much you hold. How easily you adapt, a white light containing a rainbow inside.

Humans fit anywhere and everywhere, even in places they're not supposed to. They still tried and will keep trying forever, that's why they keep stepping to the fey realm and keep attempting on befriending the elves or building houses there.

It's hard not to be blinded by their light, let it outshine everything else around them.

In a sexual context, I think elves and eladrins would be so used to magical sex or soul connections that with a human they get to experience having their soul grounded into earth.

The simplest touch of fingertips trailing up their skin, the silence except for the occasional gasps and groans of the human. For the first time their own moans are so clear to their pointy ears, they're forced to drown into their own emotions and melt into the bed.

And the humans seduction and pleasure somehow clicks with every single race, somehow surpasses so many cultural barriers. Experiencing pure pleasure with all the small awkwardness and discomforts, being acutely aware of the pillow under their head or the drumming of their heartbeat.

It's how humans don't need magic to thrive, have fun or give pleasure. How these things are second nature to them, you could strip them of all of their fancy science and magic and even then they'll still find a new way to climb up.

That's the human condition That's the human spirit, to care in the face of uncaring world. To love despite your own limitations, to be kind to something you can never understand.

Every wizard who has ever lived in the fey realm speaks of it fondly, like an old friend. Despite the countless attempts on their life, despite the times they almost lost their mind. Humans see beauty in everything, dangerous or soft.

And they infect others with their softness, make the elves and eladrins addicted to their comfortable silence. So much that they wonder how did they ever live before in the constant noise and buzzing.

Humans are like a vacation you go to when the polluted cities start to drain your soul, they're the fresh water running rivers through the dandelions filled fields.

And so many long to live there, to abandon their apartments and start over there. But they're afraid to steal the humans' light from them, to infect them with their magic and poison the waters.

So only a few go down there at a time, for a vacation length to an eladrin is akin to a lifetime to a human.

[writerfae]

Okay @bunnymermaidsblog so here’s how “Show Yourself” from Frozen 2 fits Henry

First off, context for this song if it were about Henry is that he just came to the faerie realm.

(Putting the rest under a cut for everyone’s sanity xD)

Now let’s take a closer look to some lyrics…

“Something is familiar, like a dream I can reach but not quite hold […] I'm arriving and it feels like I am home”

When Henry leaves the village to go to the faerie realm, he’s nervous. He has never been there before, if you don’t count the literal day of his birth.

Yet instantly when he’s there, he feels like he’s finally at home. He feels familiarity and belonging. Which is strange to him and kinda hard to grasp, cause he’s never seen this place yet seems to know it.

The thing about fae is that they are very closely tied to their birthplace (the fae realm) and when they are away from it for too long, they start to miss it. They long for home, no matter how little time they spent in that realm.

“The woods are calling all of us home”, as Isleen warned Ranva once. And this is what Henry experienced, why he felt so out of place in the village and instantly feels a connection to the fae realm as he gets there.

Yet he can’t quite name this feeling, let alone understand it, thus his uncertainty.

“I have always been a fortress, cold secrets deep inside”

This one is simple. Henry had always carried the secret of what he was with him. With that he indirectly blocked out people he loved, mainly Aiden, because he didn’t share this secret with him.

“Show yourself, it's your turn. Are you the one I've been looking for all of my life?”

Now with “you” you could say Henry is addressing both the pull he felt that made him go to the fae realm as well as the decision he has made itself (you could say he’s waiting for the decision’s turn to prove him he made the right choice, if that makes sense)

(Maybe he’s also addressing Callan a bit, because if you look at it, Henry now has to fully rely on Callan cause he only has him left. So maybe he’s hoping for Callan to also show him that he made the right choice)

“I've never felt so certain, all my life I've been torn. But I'm here for a reason. Could it be the reason I was born?”

This is also very much Henry cause especially in his teen years he’d been torn between his loyalty to his family and his own desires.

Even at the point where he actually leaves he’s not sure if he made the right choice.

But then he comes to the fae realm and it just feels right. It feels like this is meant to be, he suddenly KNOWS that it’s meant to be, despite his doubts.

He also feels like he’s there for a reason, like him being there has a purpose and therefore simply had to be. He doesn’t know that purpose yet, but he knows it’s important (thus potentially “the reason he was born”)

“I have always been so different, normal rules did not apply. Is this the day […] I finally find out why?”

Here we have it again, a reference to Henry’s life in the village. Where he was loved, yes, but also obviously different. At least most people in the village would agree with that.

Henry hopes that now that he’s at the faerie realm, he will finally fully understand why he is different, will finally discover who he really is as a person.

Because his mother did tell him about being a fae, yes, but there’s still questions. Many questions.

Henry’s whole journey is a lot about getting to know himself, after all.

“I'm no longer trembling. Here I am, I've come so far […]”

Henry waited for answers all his life, especially ever since his mother died. And now he’s in the fae realm and he finally gets his answers, so he’s not afraid anymore.

The next few lines is Henry starting to get used to his new life and investigating, trying to open that door that has been closed for so long.

And then it finally opens and behind it, he finds his mother. And he finds himself.

“Come, my darling, homeward bound. I am found.”

This line is very touching to me (both in the movie but especially in the Henry context) because by going back to his roots, he finds who stood at the beginning of it all. His mother.

By getting to the fae realm (and cause of his research), he got closer to the mother he lost, too. And through her, he also starts finding and recognizing himself.

“Show yourself, step into the power. Grow yourself into something new. You are the one you've been waiting for all of your (my) life”

When Henry finally has found the answers, has found himself, he grows so much as a person. He realizes that all he ever searched for all his life was his true self.

And with that knowledge comes a new confidence within him that helps him a lot in his future.

He’s as sure of himself and his origin now as he’s ever been. And all that cause he took the leap and left his village.

See, there’s many things about this song that I love and that I think fit Henry:

The search for something you can’t name and finally getting close to finding it.

The reunion with your roots and yourself via the image of a mother, carved into memory.

And then finally, to find yourself and trust in yourself, because what you’ve been looking for was within you all along.

Finally understanding, finally finding the truth within you.

Am I overanalyzing this? Most likely, yes, but that’s what you came here for, right? Anyway I hope you like this 🙈

[froggyinaspen]

Between Comfort and Chaos: CH 1

OminisxMC- Slow burn

Word Count: 2,980

Lilacs and Rot

Ominis’ POV:

               The cool crisp smell of autumn had begun to permeate the castle grounds with a slight tinge of rot and sugar mixed together, this always had me alternating between joy and disgust. The sound of the trees shedding their leaves was much like someone mixing dittany in a mortar, soft and pleasant. It was the slow petrification of those leaves once they landed that was the worst of it all. The part I hated most, large piles where the underlayers decomposed with the drippings of run off and rainwater. My overly sensitive nose chose to betray me at the worst possible moment deciding that the rot of vegetation was the preferable scent. It was an acidic sort of odor that would cause a headache if I lingered too long, which luckily was not the plan. Regardless of which smell was more prevalent It was always in moments like these that my body decide to betray me, always. I walked a little faster, wand hand outstretched with the tip gently pulsing as I maneuvered around the various piles of leaves strewn about the breezeway.

All Hallows was a week away and most of school was buzzing with excitement about the upcoming feast. It had been two months since the start of our 6th year and already I was being harassed. Usually, this was one of my favorite times at Hogwarts. Warm cozy fires, excited chatter, and dozens of activities to partake in. This year, however, was soured by the fact that Sebastian Sallow had taken up the mantle to act as my own personal poltergeist. Always appearing and acting as if a rift had never been created and having to be chased off with vague threats. At breakfast, in the corridors, in the common room, and once he even had the gall to follow me into the lavatory, stating that he wasn’t following me he just had to use the facilities. He made Peeves seem docile in comparison. It was exhausting! His attempts at contrition were hallow and I simply refused fall back into the familiar pattern of feeding a mongrel who would continue to bite my hand.

The ripple effects of 5th year still echoed like a wound that refused to heal. As soon as we had stepped foot onto the campus grounds Sebastian had hunted me down demanding to know why he was given another roommate, as if he had not betrayed me, cast an unforgivable curse on our friend, nor killed his uncle in the madness that was his pride. He had lost everything due to his own folly, and yet still acted as if in some way he was also the victim. Never once stopping to ask if anyone else felt the fallout. Never once asking me how I was holding up. I had given way to his narcissistic tendencies for far too long. I had told him in the scriptorium and again here that you always have a choice. He chose the dark arts over our friendship. It was that simple… or at least I comforted myself saying that. He was a man now, and I was no longer willing to hold his hand through his self-sabotaging schemes. I had my own problems to worry about. A change in sleeping quarters might in fact help him make new friends instead of constantly chasing after a connection that was no longer there, and I could finally have some peace. Everything was still so raw, and after the horrid summer I had endured, seeing him again was like pulling the edges of that wound farther apart.

His summer had consisted of sporadic visits from our new 5th year friend, while mine was spent in torment at the Gaunt Manor, waiting on an owl full of apologies or invitations that never came. He was showered in attention and kindness whereas I was thrust into the hell hole I had desperately strove to escape. It should have been me spending leisurely time at the seaside and amongst the fields of Feldcroft, not in the cold dark hall were cries of pain could be heard at all hours of the day, constantly on edge, playing the ghost so as not to become a target. Yes, I was bitter, but I wouldn’t allow him to see that. I would simply let my silence drown him slowly, as his had done to me. It felt like a fitting punishment, if not a bit immature. Being back at Hogwarts finally allowed me to have autonomy again and I would be damned if I would let him drag me back down into his lunacy. Passing through more cold stone arches I found myself walking to a place no one would ever think to look for me…. The outdoor beasts classroom.

The clouds parted and the sun came out to caress my face with its gentle rays as I took up a seat next to the pen of kneazles. There soft mewling was calming, and I found myself turning my face upward and closing my eyes. The sounds of their tiny nails digging into the dirt gave a nice vibration to my ear drums. I took a deep breath and let it out, the tension slowly ebbing from my face as I let my body relax, the sun kissing my eyelids. I could sit here for hours, mind slowing down to just focus on feeling the warmth. As time began to pass my thoughts started to wonder.

 Maybe in my next life I could come back as a snake and just bask on a rock. A smooth, warm rock. Quiet. Calm. Peaceful. What a pleasant idea that would be. No worries about magic of any kind, light or dark, just a simple sleepy life.

As my thoughts and the relaxing embrace of the sun began to lull me into the gentle arms of sleep a breeze started to pick up. The resounding smell of rot and sugar wafted together creating a scent that was somewhat delightful, and just slightly adjacent to the previous one of acidic decay. Hmm, there was another note, something floral and out of place for the time of year. Inhaling deeply, I tried to pinpoint the new additive.

 Lilacs? It’s the middle of October…. where did we have lilacs?

I wasn’t the best at herbology, but I did know for a fact this was a species that only bloomed in the early summer months, barely lasting, and a hard scent to replicate. It was very out of place in the midst of the highlands. My eyes slide open, and I straightened up to the sound of gravel crunching as the new student from last year, my remaining friend Lessie Aspen began to approach, the gait of her steps giving her away.

“I thought I’d find you out here. Hiding from Sallow again?” She let out a chuckle.

The smell became almost overwhelming, and I was developing a heady feeling. The usually delicate scent of the lilac was aggressive, as if she herself had become one of the bushes. The thought of Lessie suddenly becoming a dryad was amusing. I wasn’t entirely sure what she looked like, just the notion of annoyingly unruly hair, but the very idea of her arms sprouting the delicate blooms was amusing. This was a drastic turn from her usual smell, which often consisted of an earthy scent much like the petrichor after a fresh fallen rain, mixed with a delicate echo of amber. If my hearing wasn’t what it was, I don’t think I would have been able to identify her right away. That was a very unsettling thought.

“You smell of lilacs, it’s quite nice. A bit strong but nice.” I let out an exaggerated breath and avoided the question.

“Avoidance, and here I thought we were all adults now,” She gave a reprimanding tut at the unanswered question. “Thank you, though. It’s a new perfume we made this summer.”

“We?” I knew who she meant, but for reasons beyond my control my mouth betrayed me. It had been doing that a lot lately and it was getting insufferable. I would have to work on that. I could hear her swishing her skirt and her hands began to move animatedly.

“Yes, Sebastian and I. Really Ominis, I did send you owls all summer about my travels. It was one of our first activities to you know…. try and sort him out. It was meant to be a gift for Anne, but she’s still refusing to speak with him, so he gave it to me as a thank you for showing him the process. It’s a very interesting process actually… first you have to harvest the fresh petals and then you boi..”

I cut her off as my blood pressure starting to rise. Yes, I had received her owls. They were a spot of sunshine in my otherwise gloomy summer. However anytime the mongrel was mentioned I had found my eyes skimming to the bottom, not wanting to sour the image I had of her. Why did everything have to revolve around Sallow? It was like whatever I did, his grubby little finger prints were on everything spoiling it! Couldn’t I just have one day of peace without his interference? Without thinking my mouth started to move, vitriol spewing forth.

“A very interesting process indeed. One that I am not likely to pursue nor inclined to hear about.” I could hear her sharp intake at the curt remark and knew it must have stung. I could just imagine her face, brows furrowed and eyes wide. I was usually so careful with my words, yet today It seemed every little thing way getting under my skin. The regret came almost at once, and I rubbed my face while standing up to look in her direction.

“I sorry Lessie, that was harsher than I meant it. I’m sure it was an enjoyable pursuit, truly. It seems I have been having a trying day and am not quite myself. Please do forgive my outburst.”

She stepped closer, and true to her people-pleasing nature, accepted my hasty apology. A lingering hint of concern lilted her tone.

“If something is bothering you Ominis, you can talk to me about it. I know Seb has been relentless in trying to make amends with you and if you need more time I can try to get him to let up a bit. From our earlier conversations about your summer, I can understand how his attitude could be making things difficult for you. You deserve to feel safe here.”

I could feel my face soften. She was always so giving, too giving, willing to help everyone but herself. A blessing and a curse. Her best and worst trait as it would seem since she had readily welcomed the turncoat back into the fold. It was like she enjoyed pain. Something, I could not abide. I wasn’t sure if that was what was making this whole situation harder. It had been nearly lethal watching Sebastian destroy himself in the aftermath of the Solomon’s’ death. However, watching Lessie continue time after time to bring him back from the edge at the expense of herself had left a festering wound in my heart. The thought of him hurting her again made my blood boil. She was almost as stupid as him. Almost.

“I can’t forgive him. I don’t know if I ever truly can. This constant pestering isn’t helping the matter either. It is suffocating. I feel as if I can’t breathe. I-I-I still have nightmares about it all. Sometimes it feels like we’re still in the catacombs and all I can hear are your screams. And then this summer… not once did he write…. I waited…. but” My eyes start to water as I forced back the tears, voice catching in my throat. I couldn’t do this here, not now. Not out in the open where anyone could walk by. I could only imagine the rumors it would create.

Without hesitation Lessie came over and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close. My first hug in almost 6 months, the last one having also been from her before departing for the summer holiday. A shiver runs through me as I realized how truly touch-starved I was, and I could slowly feel my shoulders relaxing. We stand like that for a minute or so while I regained my composure. This was not the time nor place for such a conversation. I could feel her hand patting my back as if I were a child, whispering soothing words over and over again into my ear.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

My hands reach for her shoulders, putting her an arm’s length away. Her perfume not helping with attempts at breathing properly.

“Thank you. I needed that.” It comes out as a shaky whisper, and I find I am at a loss on how to proceed after that embarrassing display. I have never not been in control of my emotions and this whole process seems very foreign.

“I will always be here for you, I promise. Even if I have to fight off a whole horde of goblins with one arm.”    

 Her voice gets slightly lower as mischief laces her words. I can hear the smile on her lips, as the delicate scent of lilacs began to engulf my senses. The warm imprint of her body against mine lingering. I usually loved the smells of these blooms, but they seemed tainted now. A small frown creases my face as she speaks again.

“You know Ominis, I have something that might help clear your mind.”

“Mhm, Is that so?”

“If you’re up for a small adventure that is.”  

There was a whooshing sound, and it took a moment to place as I realized that she was on her broom and mounted hovering a few feet above the ground. Had she had that this whole time? Where was she storing it?! Regardless of what she had planned, it was obvious what my answer would be. I had never turned down a request from her and I didn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. Besides, if she had her broom that meant it was further than walking distance, which in turn meant no chance of stumbling upon my brown-haired poltergeist.

“We do have a couple hours before dinner.” I gave an attempt at a smile as she extended her hand and helped me on the back. A spark of static ignited as our hands touched, causing the both of us to pull back and start laughing. I wanted to make a joke about her ancient magic acting up again, but my brain had exhausted all executive functions. Instead, it went into tactile overdrive. Her calloused hands were not those of an amateur. I had always know she was adept with a broomstick, but her hands gave the impression that more often than not she was in the sky. My fingers lingered in her palm as I settled myself behind her. I gently traced over the callouses, circling the largest by her ring finger. It was hard and rough with a bit of flanking skin. Usually, something like that would repulse me, but on her it just seemed right. What must it be like to fly any time you wanted? I felt a pang of jealousy. She lowered my hands to her waist with a huff, making them connect to create a human belt against her.  

“I know, I know I should take better care of my hands. They make riding gloves. I have heard it all.” This seemed to have struck a chord. An insecurity I didn’t know about.

Hmm, I will have to write that down later.

“Actually, I was admiring them. Flying is a skill not everyone is able to afford. One must practice in order to be proficient, and I can tell you may be closer to mastery on the subject.”

 I couldn’t quite tell but it seemed as if that had soothed the nerve. Her voice became sweet again.

“Make sure to hold on tight.”

               It may have been due to the heightened emotions of having to actively avoid Sebastian or the knowledge that I would soon be floating through the sky, which was a rare occurrence in itself, but a gentle fluttering began in my stomach much like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. The heat radiating off of Lessie’s back coupled with the strong scent of the blasted lilacs was having an intoxicating effect. This was much better than sitting with the kneazles. Without realizing it my grip tightened as my forehead found a resting spot on her neck.

She drew a slow breath as we started to float a bit higher.

“Are you all settled?”

I opened my mouth to respond, sending a huff of hot air onto her neck. She shook ever so slightly, her pulse spiking with an inhale. I wasn’t sure if I had caused her sudden spasm or if it was from the wind, but I nodded in agreement.

 “Yes, lets start this adventure you promised.”

               Within seconds, the earth disappeared beneath my feet and the wind whipped around us, causing the loose braid of Lessie’s thick hair to go every which way. It must have been a sight to behold. The feeling of being safely tucked against her as we propelled through the nothingness was indescribable. Terrifying, yet exhilarating. To be honest, she was possibly the only one I trusted enough to be this vulnerable with, knowing should I lose grip and fall, she would most certainly catch me. The further away from Hogwarts we went, the more my anxiety receded. Whatever this adventure held, it was going to be a good one and I was thankful to at least have one friend willing to stand by my side.

[patrick-muinonen]

Discovering writing

I feel like so many people have all these wonderful ways of discovering their love for writing and I thought I might just share mine for someone to read.

It was nearing the end of high school and I was closing in on the beginning of my final year. Believe it or not, I was a science and math student to heart and soul. I loved it. Mostly because all of the equations and necessary information came to me.

When it came time in between years to take a bridge course I had been anticipation, my nerves were at their end, stressed to all hell. Should the bridge course fail, there was no coming back. I'd have been too late.

Some time passed and I was midway through the course bridging the lower and higher math courses. I broke down. It was such an utter defeat as I sat in that room, looking at questions where no answers came. I was heartbroken and my confidence waned. As I sat in that chair, breaking out into a cold sweat, I realized that I no longer cared.

It was a snap of some invisible fingers. I realized it was not my heart I put into math, though I still loved science, it was my brain. I was good at it and thought that I should thus love it. Nope. It was tedious and took time, even knowing the equations, and the learning process was not enjoyable. Perhaps because of bad teachers originally, or some other random reason I could not even begin to come up with, but my interest was gone. There was no longer any novelty to the concepts like when I was first introduced to complexities that the mathematical world contained.

Knowing there was no way I would continue with math for the rest of my life, I left it behind, mid-test. I had been breaking down, so I obviously did not want to be sitting in the middle of the classroom waiting for people to notice me doing nothing. What's more, I had the confidence to stand up, literally, and admit to myself that I was not fit for the area of study.

The months that followed were filled with my trying to figure out what's next. As much as I wish I could say it only took mere days to figure out, I would not lie. I was struggling. It took time to come to terms with the fact that discovering interest for me that I would be able to dedicate my life too was not going to simply happen.

I backtracked, thinking of the already existing hobbies in my life. Reading came up. Reading was a core of my life, it still is. Reading filled so many hours that I would run out of books, taking the series I already read and reading them a dozen times each. Pendragon was one of my favorites growing up. I thought the concept of there being different worlds connected to our own to be so interesting. My love of Fantasy was spawned with similar such books and when the realization hit that I loved books, and then that I wanted to share that with others, I began.

I wrote through college, mostly for myself, as I attended an arts program. The program was the best decision I made, well, except for one other that I like to keep secret. Suddenly, freelancing! I launched on Fiverr, spent months working enormously hard to go above and beyond for each and every client. I did it. I made it. Money was coming in! It stopped. I did not lose my clients, they were still coming. I lost my account, with no way to get it back. I`d just landed two novella deals and I had no way of contacting them anymore. Sucks to be me but I never stopped.

I lost my Fiverr account at 2:30 in the morning. I stayed up for the next 2 hours to make accounts, posts, taking what I know now about freelancing and going to the next level. Within 24 hours, I had a book deal. Go me!

Now, nobody will probably read this, though I hope someone does. I want you to know, if you're in a situation where things are no longer going right, something changed or you simply are not having fun with what you do, take a step back. Choose that moment when you are not in a rush to progress in life and move away from it all. Think. For a week, a month, a year. Take that time for you and you will discover all the things about your needs that you had no idea about. Or you wont. You dont know but you should try if you feel a need for it. When you find it, own it. Earn it. Be it. Make your time bend to it. Don`t relax, because I know you can do it, though only when you try.

Good luck, find your clients, live with what you love. Freelancers or corporate slave, you have a right to love what you do. Love it to death.

[mainssj]

Gramps pipe tales of zestiria

“I’m glad you know my name,” he assured him. He leaned forward, his lips close to his friend’s ear, as he made sure his whisper would be heard by only him. He looked absolutely devastated and that, more than anything, broke Mikleo’s heart. Sorey took a deep breath, wiping his face off on his sleeve. “It’s not your fault,” he assured him quietly as he held the door open. Mikleo forced a smile, not wanting to make him feel as though he too was upset. “I’m so sorry!” he rushed to say, his green eyes brimming with tears even as his cheeks were already stained in the trails of those spent. Sorey was indeed standing there, looking more miserable than Mikleo had imagined. It felt like an eternity before he finally opened the door into the orange light of a setting sun. Mikleo nodded again, bowing his head as he hurried to leave, his footsteps however weighed down with his guilt. He’s undoubtedly waiting for you just outside the door.” Gramps puffed on his pipe again and gestured for Mikleo to rise. His blind agreement seemed enough for the time being. He was sure it’d be made clear before too long. It seemed a serious enough request not to simply obey regardless of what it meant. Mikleo nodded even though he didn’t quite understand. Promise me you will not share in his physical maturity in the same way he has shared in your own progression.” Where you were granted a true name, his progression will be much more…. “Sorey will soon be entering a very trying part of his human development. “Where what ends?” Mikleo asked, his curiosity winning out over his other warring emotions. “And while I did not think to prepare either of you for an understanding of such intimacies, I cannot say I am entirely surprised either. “You are both so eager to grow up,” he muttered. And you have given all of yourself to a boy who is not yet mature enough to appreciate such a gift.” The older seraphim shook his head, his heavy brows hanging low over his eyes. It is, at its core, you in your entirety. “Your true name is not just a secret, Mikleo. Mikleo’s face felt all the reader as embarrassment and shame uncomfortably mixed. I don’t mean to imply that Sorey would ever misuse the power you’ve given him, but the consequences of such actions were not meant for ones as young as the two of you to contend with.” Gramps sighed loudly, raking his fingers through the ash to erase the trouble writings. He nodded minutely, feeling self conscious under his stare. It was hard not to blush and thus Mikleo turned his head. “Do you understand what it means to give someone, especially a human, your true name?” he asked at length. He tried so hard to make his guardian proud. Mikleo would have much preferred anger to that. Gramps didn’t look angry, he looked disappointed. It was not anger in his face that Mikleo was fearful of, though. He was a very patient guardian but it was obvious it was a harder virtue to maintain at the moment. Gramps drew deeply from his pipe and exhaled the trails of smoke out through his nose. There was nothing really to say except, quietly, “He thought it sounded pretty.” Context was enough to tell him exactly what was scratched into the ash and a cold weight settled in his gut as he waited, hands clenching against his thighs. “Do you want to explain, then, why this is what I found Sorey practicing his penmanship on?” With his pipe, he gestured out towards the ash on the edges of his hearth. Gramps nodded, seemingly pleased with his recitation. Seraphim must guard their true name to ensure it may never be used against them,” Mikleo recalled, doing his best to be as precise as possible to the words used in the lecture he’d heard months ago. A true name is both a blessing and a curse in that it allows for very deep connections but does so through the surrender of certain powers of will. “You said true names have a special power that can bind a seraph to someone else’s command and thus should not be freely disclosed. Either way, it was an easy enough lesson to repeat. Under different circumstances, he might have considered it simply a quiz. This question did not illuminate anything for Mikleo. “Do you remember what I told you when your true name was revealed?” Gramps asked at last, his pipe laying idle in his hands. He could think of nothing to have caused the worried frown he’d seen on Sorey’s face. They’d been doing school work just as Gramps had asked them to. He and Sorey hadn’t even ventured off into the ruins that day. He knew he was in trouble but he had no idea what he’d done. He knew because Gramps kept his back turned even as he sat beside the fire and fell quiet for far too long. He knew because Gramps told Sorey to wait outside, the human’s expression somewhat panicked as the door closed between them.

[cardansriddle]

Can you do a professor riddle smut 😁??

Great work on your stories btw I love them ❤️❤️

Discipline- Tom Riddle

Summary: When you miss Professor Riddle’s class, he seeks you out and demands and explanation. Irritated at his nerve, you say things that anger him, therefore he decides to teach you some discipline. 

A/N: I got a few Professor Riddle requests so I decided to combine them. Requests are open for Tom Riddle.

Warnings: Smut, professor x reader.

-

Professor Riddle was like the forbidden apple that everyone would die to have a small taste of.

The student population of Hogwarts had gone into a frenzy when it was announced that Tom Riddle would take the position as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. The girls and boys alike whispered amongst each other once they caught a glimpse of the young man that looked like he was created by the Greek Gods. He was simply put, ethereal.

As the new transfer, you had been confused when it was time to head to the DADA class, overhearing the excitement of the students at the thought of seeing their professor. With furrowed brows, you had approached one of your new acquaintances, quietly asking him what the fuss was all about.

“Professor Riddle is very attractive. The whole female population of Hogwarts is in love with the man.” He had replied with a displeased expression, watching his girlfriend walking ahead of him fawn at the thought of their teacher.

You understood the appeal of an older man, sure, yet you had not thought he would be that much of a sight when you had been walking towards his class. However, once you stood in the room and your eyes met the dark ones of the man that you assumed was your professor, you had mentally agreed with the thoughts of your fellow peers.

He was beautiful.

Yet you acted as if you were not fazed, taking a seat in the middle row and avoiding further eye contact with the man, who was not done staring at you. You subtly felt someone probing at your mind, and alarm bells started ringing in your head before you shut down your mental barriers, head raising to look directly at your professor, who had his brows furrowed in confusion. Shooting a glare at him for attempting to glance into your mind, you lowered your head to your book once again, wondering if it was even allowed for a teacher to use Legimilens on a student.

Thankfully, he had not made you introduce yourself, proceeding with the lesson, as usual, pretending that nothing had happened and it had continued for weeks.

That was until you missed one of his classes, falling ill after a particularly cold day spent in Hogsmead and you were forced to stay in your bed for the whole day.

The next day when you were eating your breakfast, you suddenly became aware of the unusual silence that hung upon the table, the chatter fading away as everyone stared at something behind you. Naturally, you turned around and were surprised to see Professor Riddle, his usual stern expression now irritated, looking at you with what you assumed was disapproval.

“You missed a class yesterday.” He spoke, his low voice sending a chill down your spine. How could someone’s voice be that alluring? You wondered silently, before coming back to the present and frowning at him.

“Yes, I am aware.” You replied, sarcasm dripping from your tone. You distinctly felt one of your peers elbow you in the ribs yet you shot her a dirty look and she turned back to her meal.

“Mind your attitude.” He warned, eyes narrowing as his eyes roamed over your form. “Come with me.” He commanded, not waiting for a reply before he turned on his heel and walked away from your table, leaving you to huff before rushing after him.

“Where are we going, sir?” You asked, slightly unnerved now that you were alone with him. He halted suddenly, turning towards you, and you had no time to react before you crashed into his front, hands laying atop his chest in order to soften the collision. His hands grabbed your arms in an instant as if to prevent you from falling, and you immediately pulled away, cheeks flaming hot as you apologised hastily.

His hand suddenly found the space under your chin, lifting it up forcefully, making you meet his obsidian eyes, staring down at you with an expression you could not decipher.

“Shut up and get inside.” He hissed.

Swallowing nervously, you complied with his demand, moving into the dimly lit office. He followed after you and leaned against the table while his eyes travelled over you.

“Why are we here, sir?” You asked, crossing your arms around your chest and not missing the way his eyes dropped to your chest at the action.

“You missed a class, and I do not take kindly to my students skipping my lectures.”

“Well, for your information, I was ill. I missed all of my classes yesterday.” You scoffed, irritated at the way he was behaving as if you owed him anything.

He cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Have you never been taught discipline before? Or do I have to teach you that too?”

You clenched your jaw in anger, shocked at his nerve to say such things, and before you could stop yourself, you retaliated. “Who are you to teach me discipline? My father?” You spat, glaring at him heatedly.

“Keep that attitude and I will spank you like I am.”

You took a step back in bewilderment at his crude words, eyes widening. You spluttered, not knowing how to reply to that, and before you knew it, he pushed away from the table and in three long strides, he was standing in front of you, getting way too close for it to be appropriate.

“What-” You cleared your throat. “What are you doing, sir?”

He leaned down, causing his dark curls to fall over his chiselled face and you subconsciously took a step back until you were pressed against a wall. He smirked and raised his hands to rest on the wall next to your head, effectively trapping you there.

He lowered his face until his lips touched your throat, and a whimper escaped your lips when his teeth grazed over the sensitive area. He nipped and sucked at the skin for a few moments before raising his head to look at the hickey he had given you with a smirk.

Possessive little shit. You thought to yourself.

“I am going to fuck that attitude out of you. That is what I am doing.” He replied to the question you forgot you even asked, and then you felt his lips press against yours forcefully. Your body did not hesitate before responding to his kiss, and the sensible part of your brain screamed at you furiously for allowing this to happen.

You locked your arms around his neck, your hands tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to release a groan in pleasure. Smirking against his lips, you tugged harder, and he pulled away from you breathlessly. “You will pay for that, darling.” He promised, and then connected your lips once more.

One of his hands dropped to the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it up before grabbing the inner part of your thigh. You gasped at the unexpected action, and he used this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, while his hand massaged your inner thigh, almost in a teasing way.

You whined, wanting more, and this time he pulled away to look at you with darkened eyes. “Beg for it.”

Your breath hitched. “No.”

“I said to beg for it.” His hand itched higher, grazing the hem of your underwear.

“Please.” The plea left your mouth instantly, and you mentally cursed yourself for being so weak and giving in to him.

“Good girl.” His swollen lips curled into a smirk before his fingers finally touched you. You moaned at the sensation of his feeling against you, arching your back to feel more, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure.

“The sounds you make...they drive me insane.” He breathed, watching you intensely, captivated by your expression of pleasure. “You have been driving me insane since that day you first walked into my class in that little skirt of yours.” He confessed, yet you were too preoccupied with the feeling of his fingers rubbing against you to pay much attention.

Suddenly, his fingers left you, and you whined in displeasure, eyes opening to glare at him for denying you.

“Patience, darling. You will only come when I am inside of you.”

Your hands dropped to his trousers, quickly trying to get rid of the offending item and then moving your hands to unbutton his shirt.

His head dropped to the column of your throat, attaching his lips to your skin, and you knew that there would be marks later, and you knew he would leave multiple just to claim his territory, yet you could not bring yourself to care.

His knee shifted so it would press against the place in between your thighs, and you started moving your hips in rhythm, trying to create some friction. Riddle groaned, hands gripping your hips and nails digging into your skin.

One of his hands tugged on your underwear until it dropped to pool around your legs. Your heart drummed against your chest, knowing there was no going back from what you were about to do.

He pressed closer to you, and your breath caught in your throat when you felt him sliding against you, and you could not take it anymore. “Fuck me, sir.”

Riddle groaned lowly, your words shooting straight to his core before he raised one of your legs to curl around his hips. He slowly pushed into you, hissing at the way you felt around him.

You cried out, the stretch being painful, yet a twisted part of you found pleasure in it. You felt your whole body heat up at the feeling of having him inside of you, hips pressed against yours, and his dark eyes focused on you, and only you.

After giving you a moment to adjust, he drew back before pushing roughly back into you, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

The hand that was not holding your leg moved to curl around your throat, his rings digging into your skin, and a loud moan escaped your lips before you could contain it.

“Harder.” You breathed out.

His eyes snapped open to look at you before his hand tightened around your throat and his hips kept rolling against yours roughly, making you feel dizzy and floating, the pleasure of it all becoming unbearable.

He pressed his lips against your jaw, pushing into you again and again. You felt something building up in your lower stomach, and you moved your hips against him, meeting his thrusts.

His lips left your jaw to press against your reddened lips. Your hands tugged at his hair, and in response he bit your lower lip harshly, all the while keeping up the rough pace of his hips.

“I hate you.” You suddenly whispered, raising your other leg to wrap around his hip, allowing him to push in deeper.

“Is that so?” He laughed lowly, slowing his thrusts to look at you. “The sounds you are making right now prove otherwise.”

With that he ground his hips, with his right hand stationed at your hip, he allowed his head to fall forward, his forehead resting on your shoulder with a stuttering sigh. His release brought you over the edge, and with a final thrust of his hips, you cried out his name, fingers tightening in his dark curls.

“If this is the discipline you spoke of teaching, I believe I am in dire need of discipline lessons.”

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine being Dolores’ best friend, a trans man, and after you come out her realising Bruno’s prophecy could’ve been about you all along.

Dolores had just assumed her prophecy was about Marino because he was:

A man 

Betrothed to someone else

Although she always felt a connection with you she thought her prophecy was pretty straightforward so she never considered it could be about you.

She was not correct. 

When you came out as a trans man to her and told her you used he/him pronouns there was a small voice in the back of her mind that thought about the prophecy but you weren’t promised to another so how could that work? No it surely had to be Marino and so she dated him and was happy...at first. She thought she’d like how loud he was in that endearingly annoying way but after a while she just found it too much. He talked constantly and she spent her time with him doing what she always did, just listening and being quiet. With you she was the loudest person in the room and the dynamic was totally different. She felt free to express herself in a way she’d never experienced with anyone else, not even her family, because you listened to her! You didn’t just want to hear what she’d overheard or use her powers for your own convenience, you wanted to know how she felt or what she was thinking and nobody had ever asked her that before.

So Dolores was struggling with the feeling she was falling for the wrong person when everything fell into place the day you got a request from your grandfather. He was old and wouldn’t likely be around for much longer but he had one wish before he died. He and his best friend had always dreamed of their bloodlines coming together through marriage and you just happened to be the same age as his friend’s grandson. Dolores didn’t like this news and was surprised how anxious it made her imagining you with someone else. She was on edge waiting for you to tell her what you’d said in response she finally just blurted “so what did you tell him?” unable to contain herself. “I told him no of course!” you cried “I’m attracted to women and while I appreciate him being cool with the idea of me marrying a man I’m simply not attracted to men. I’m not going to marry someone just because he wants it. Family isn’t about who you’re legally tied to, it’s who you feel closest to and I told my grandfather that”. “What did he say?” Dolores asked imagining how her Abuela would react if she ever refused a request to further the family just because she didn’t want to. You however just smiled. “He told me he completely agreed and would write to his friend telling him the deal was off...apparently they’d kind of already agreed so technically I was engaged for a couple of days”. Dolores’ blood ran cold as you said that. Bruno’s prophecy came back to her and she realised you, the man of her dreams, now fit his prediction completely.

Dolores was now certain she’d been with the wrong person all this time but she wanted to run the idea by her family first. They’d all assumed the prophecy was about Mariano like her so she wanted to run her realisation by them and she did so at the dinner table. As usual once she’d finished speaking everyone looked to Abuela. “I like y/n but I’m not sure this could be about him” she said. “Why?” Dolores asked and her Abuela sighed. “Well y/n was assigned female gender at birth and at the time of the prophecy we all assumed he was a girl, how would Bruno have known that and changed it to her correct pronouns?” Abuela asked. Dolores already had an answer to that “well y/n was assigned female gender at birth but he was always a man. So he was a man at the time of the prophecy, we just didn’t know it yet”. “Can it work like that?” Abuela asked Bruno who shrugged “hey prophecies are hard to interpret but I know two things. One, they’re never as straightforward as you think meaning it probably wasn’t about Marino at all that’d be too obvious. Second, trans men are men so I see no reason why this can’t be about y/n”. Dolores beamed and her parents both put an arm around her back “we think it’s about y/n but the most important thing is that you think it about him” Pepa smiled. Felix nodded “that’s right, if you love him then we say go for it”. Dolores smiled, tears leaking down her face as Antonio nodded...Camilo on the other hand was frowning. “Has anyone considered y/n might not want to marry Dolores though?” he asked and Antonio elbowed him in the shin. “I’m kidding” Camilo cried nursing his leg “we both support you too of course”. Dolores smiled at all her family and wiped away the tears “thank you all so much. While I don’t need your permission it is nice to have your support. I’m going to ask y/n tonight when he comes over...if he wants to date me not marry me” she said nodding to Camilo “I’ll let you know what he says”. Everyone wished her luck and Dolores went to her room to wait for you.

She sat by her window, facing the direction you’d come and fretted about how she’d tell you. She couldn't think of any straightforward way to say it and was just working herself up into a panic. Finally she spotted you approaching the house from her window and rushed downstairs to meet you. She opened the door just as you were about to knock and you jumped “Dolores! Were you waiting for me?”. “Maybe” she shrugged “I just have something I need to talk to you about...can we go talk in my room before dinner?”. You nodded “of course” and followed Dolores to her room.

Dolores closed her door and you looked at her expectantly. Dolores looked away and began fiddling with things on her table to buy herself time. “Erm Dolores?” you asked after a few minutes and she turned around “yeah?”. “That thing you have to tell me?”. She nodded “ow yeah well erm...Bruno had this prophecy about me and all this time I thought it was about someone else but now I think it’s about you”. You frowned “okay we can work this out, what’s the prophecy”. “See that’s the thing” Dolores said hesitantly “I want you to know if you don’t want the prophecy to be about you then I’ll drop it and it won’t have to be about you”. You paused “but I thought the whole point of a prophecy is you can’t escape it? I can’t just decide I don’t want it to be about me, it’s not a choice”. Dolores winced “no but in this circumstance you do, I’m not forcing you into anything just because of a prophecy”. You stared “force me into anything...Dolores what is the prophecy?”. “Okay so Bruno told me there would be this man”. You nodded “okay with you so far, i tick that box”. “He said he’d be important for me but he’d be betrothed to another”. Again you nodded “I was engaged for a while and I like to think I’ve been important to you, why are you so worried? This isn’t bad”. Dolores sighed “when Bruno said important he meant in the love sense” she explained and you paused “love? As in friendship or...”. “His exact words were “the man of your dreams”. Your eyes widened and you stared at Dolores as if entranced. “The man of your...you think that definition fits me?”. Dolores blushed and made a small squeak but nodded “I like you y/n. Ever since we were kids I felt this pull to you, I loved being around you and I felt jealous when you made new friends or liked other girls. I figured it was just me being protective because I didn’t think you fit with the prophecy. Then you came out as your true gender and you got betrothed...and I realised it had been you all along. Atleast from my point of view, just because you’re the man of my dreams doesn’t mean I have to be the woman of yours. You do have a choice y/n and I'll support whatever you choose”. Silence settled and finally you stopped staring and looked down. “I’m honestly just a little shocked because...” but Dolores cut in “I know it’s a lot to take in but don’t worry you can take as long as you need to decide what you want to do”. You shook your head “ow no I know exactly what my decision is, yes Dolores. I’d love to date you, I just can’t believe I’m the man of your dreams! You’re Dolores! The most quirky, funny, beautiful girl in our whole village. I love how calm and collected you appear but how with me you can be reckless and childish. I find your inability to keep even the smallest secret hilarious and I smile every time I see you. You can sing, dance, throw shade like it’s nothing and you hold the burden of your family like a warrior...saying I’m the man of your dreams makes me so surprised because I have no idea how I’m good enough for a girl like you”. Dolores was bright red when you finished and made a small squeak in response before rushing to wrap her arms around you. You of course caught her and hugged her back holding her close to you. “Of course you’re good enough for me” she told you “to me you’re perfect y/n”. You smiled “Dolores Madrigal are you flirting with me”. “Yes but let me make it more obvious” she cried and leant in. You met her halfway and kissed her softly. It was as amazing as you’d always dreamt and you melted into the kiss becoming a soppy mess. 

When Dolores pulled away you stared at her in a daze “i’m the luckiest guy in the world, I know your cousins have gifts but they’ve got nothing on how privileged I am”. Dolores blushed and took your hand “you’re so sweet” and she went to kiss you again when there was a knock on the door. “Dolores dinner is ready” Camilo called and she called back you’d be down soon. “So how do you want to do this?” you asked her “tell your family or do you want more time?”. Dolores laughed “well they actually already know, I told them I’d worked out why the prophecy was about and that I was telling you now so...the second we walk in together they’ll know”. You were slightly intimidated but then you reminded yourself these were the Madrigals. The family you’d loved since you were a child, they’d all welcomed you and supported you constantly. Not to mention you weren’t alone. Dolores took your hand “you ready?”. You weren’t the bravest person but for Dolores you’d go anywhere so you nodded “let’s do this” and she opened the door. 

_____

I’ll be honest, I don’t like Mariano and I think it must’ve sucked to have your prophecy just be about some guy...so I changed it into a trans love story!

Full disclosure I’m not trans and this is my second time writing for a trans person but representation matters and I wanted to give some trans content and what better time with pride month (UK) just around the corner.

If there are any trans people who think I should’ve done something differently or have any tropes they hate/want to see more of just let me know and i’ll try and exclude/include them in future pieces.  

[loki--fics]

Hey !!! I love your writing !!! Could I possibly request a super fluffy like wedding day where both you and Loki are nervous but it all goes away when you see each other and a wee lil bit of smut at the end? Totally cool if not !!! ✨💜

sorry this took so long, this was by far my longest oneshot! i wanted to fit in as much detail as possible, though i was tempted to turn this into a series as well haha. thank you for the request though, and feel free to ask for more :)) i hope you enjoy!

~

Loki's Bride

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,668

Content Warnings: fluff, lots of smut at the end

~

It was late afternoon, the warm sun guarding against the chill of the autumn breeze. You sat in front of the window, your eyes closed as a handmaiden worked on your makeup, another one standing behind you working on your hair. They had been doing this for what felt like ages, but you didn't mind; it took your mind off of how nervous you were. But then, you had reason to be nervous - today was your wedding day.

The crisp breeze wafted in from the open window, caressing your skin like a whisper, but you could barely feel it over the cold pricks of anxiety. You and Frigga had been planning this day for months now, and throughout the months you had been excited, but now that the day was here, you were nervous.

"It is time for the dress, Lady Y/N," Said the handmaiden who did your hair. You recalled her stating that her name was Ingrid, and the other maiden was named Eira.

Nodding, you stood and walked with Ingrid to the wardrobe, from which she grabbed a large garment bag.

"Her Majesty had this dress made for you," Eira said happily as Ingrid unzipped the bag. You were met by the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, a creamy off-white number with off the shoulder sleeves and intricate gold lacing, the skirt wide and puffy with a short train. Its beauty was almost unreal.

"It's gorgeous," You said, your fingers brushing the fabric.

Eira slipped your robe off of your shoulders, placing it on the bed as Ingrid helped you carefully step into the dress. As she zipped up the back, it hugged your waist and bosom snugly, but not uncomfortably tight. It was a perfect fit, as were the shoes and the waist belt for the dagger ceremony.

"This is amazing," You breathed, smoothing out the dress. It felt as though you had been transported into a faerie tale, with the dress, the handmaidens, the stunning view you had from your window, and the fact that you were marrying a prince.. You were afraid it was too good to be true.

A knock sounded at the door, and Eria walked over to answer it. "Your Majesty!" She said, bowing. "I was wondering when you would arrive, we've just finished getting Y/N into her dress."

Your eyes met Frigga's as she walked into the room, ever the epitome of grace. "Dearest Y/N, you look beautiful!" She said happily, her eyes trailing over you.

"Thank you," You replied, bowing slightly. "The dress.. I'm not sure how I could ever thank you for it, it's perfect."

Frigga waved you off. "I assure you no thanks are needed." It was then that you noticed the square, velvet box in her hands, and she followed your eyes downward. "Oh, yes. This is for you as well, dear." She opened it, and resting inside was a beautiful gold circlet with emeralds and diamonds inlaid, delicately woven to resemble leaves.

"Oh, Frigga, you shouldn't have," You said, feeling tears well up in your eyes. "I couldn't possibly accept this!"

"You can, and you will," She said gently, removing the circlet from the box. Gently clasping it at the back of your head, she turned you toward the mirror. "Go look."

Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Never in your life had you looked so beautiful, you were sure of it; your skin had a dewey glow, your hair was left down and curled simply, with intricate braids on either side of your head connecting in the back, the circlet pulling the whole look together. You truly looked like royalty.

The thought still nagged, however, that this was all too good to be true. Turning away from the mirror with a sigh, you took a seat in front of the window once more.

"Is there something troubling you?" Frigga asked, shooing the handmaidens out of the room and taking a seat on the wooden bench next to you, her eyes alight with worry.

"This seems too good to be true," You admitted. "What if Loki realises that he's making a mistake, or he realises he doesn't love me anymore? I'm only a mortal, and he's going to live on far longer after I've gone from this world."

Placing her hand over yours, she spoke. "I know my son, Y/N, and I can see from the way he looks at you how deeply he loves you. Please trust that all will be well."

"He's going to have to watch me grow old and sick and die, while he stays perfect," You voiced. You had realised this quite some time ago, but hadn't let yourself truly come to terms with it until now, and you felt yourself begin to panic. "I'm going to die centuries before him, and then he'll remarry, and-"

"Y/N!" Frigga said, snapping you out of your ramblings. "Do not think of such things. Focus your mind on the love you hold for him, and the love he holds for you; a love as true and pure as yours does not happen often, believe that Loki will not allow anything to happen to you."

"Your Majesty," Ingrid spoke from the doorway. "It's time."

As the two of you stood, Frigga wrapped her arms around you in a warm embrace. "Focus on your love for him," She repeated in your ear. "All will be well, I promise."

~time skip~

All too soon, you stood facing the doors that led out into the garden, where the wedding was taking place. Thor was at your side, your arm looped through his as the two of you waited for the music to start, your cue to walk down the aisle.

"What if I forget my vows?" You asked frantically. "What am I supposed to do then?"

Thor chuckled, patting your hand. "Lady Y/N, you have been studying your vows for weeks, I have good faith that you will not forget them. However, if you do, simply speak from your heart."

You heard the low sound of the music begin, and that meant there was only a moment before the doors would open and you would face the people of Asgard and the Allfather, and you felt your heart race. "Please don't let me fall," You whispered.

"Never," Thor whispered back, squeezing your hand. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders as the doors opened.

It took only a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light, and almost immediately you spotted Loki. As you and Thor began walking slowly, you watched Loki's eyes widen as he looked at you, his lips parting slightly as a blush rose to his cheeks. You saw nothing but love in his eyes, and you smiled as your own eyes took him in, looking handsome as ever in the Asgardian leather suit he so prided himself on.

Looking down, you saw that the white carpet that stretched from the doors to the altar was sprinkled with beautiful red bougainvillea flowers, which you'd requested as soon as you'd discovered that they were Loki's favourite. He noticed this as well, looking down at the flowers and giving you a small smile.

There were hundreds of people in attendance, most of them being residents of Asgard, many of whom you had yet to meet, all standing with their eyes on you. You saw many happy smiles, but also caught a few jealous stares from some of the women, and flushed. Continuing your slow steps, you focused your gaze back on the handsome groom waiting for you.

As you neared the altar, you spotted your team - your family, standing in the front rows greeting you with wide smiles. When you had first told them about your relationship with Loki, a year and a half after he'd returned to New York to gain pardon from the people of Earth, and six months after your relationship had begun, they were understandably shocked. But through your time spent with him, he had shown you a softer, gentler side to him, one that they had not yet seen. An even bigger shock came when Loki had proposed to you in front of everyone at the New Year's Eve party that Tony had thrown, but now, they expressed nothing but happiness for the two of you.

You felt your heart swell as you looked at them, even more so as you looked back at Loki, and it took everything in you not to pick up your dress, run to your groom, and throw yourself into his arms. This was everything you had dreamt of and more since he proposed to you eight months ago, and you wanted to laugh at yourself for being so nervous. How could you have thought, even for a second, that he would just stop loving you?

Thor pulled his arm out of yours, placing his hand on your shoulder and smiling as he took his place with the rest of the team in the front row. You picked up your dress and walked up the steps of the beautiful stone gazebo, decorated with bright, beautiful flowers and leaves, taking your place across from him.

"You are stunning, my love," Loki said quietly, his blue eyes gazing into your e/c ones as he took your hands.

"As are you," You replied, squeezing his hands. "I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Nor can I."

The music quieted as Odin stepped in front of the two of you and raised his hands, cueing everyone to take their seats.

"Good evening, people of Asgard and guests." Lowering his hands, he continued. "Today, we have taken ourselves out of our usual routines of daily living to witness the union between Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard." He gestured to each of you respectively. "As Loki and Y/N prepared for the ceremony, they took time to reflect upon what it is they love in the other, and they will now state these vows, starting with the groom."

Loki smiled at you lovingly. "I, Loki of Asgard, by the life and seidr that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you within my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. There is not a moment where you do not take my breath away, and I will never seek to change you in any way. I will trust and respect you as your own person and realise that your needs are no more important than my own.

"I hereby promise to love you wholly and completely, without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in this life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I will grow along with you and I am willing to face change with you. I will always respect you, your beliefs, your people and your ways as I respect myself, as I am your partner and we shall be equal in all things.

"I cannot begin to describe how happy I am to have won the joy of such a consort, and I will forever delight in the love of you. I will cherish each tear to fall from your eyes, both in sadness and in joy, and I will do my best to ensure you are safe and secure, and to honour the love you have for me. To find someone as special as you, out of all in the Nine Realms, is something I never imagined possible. Today, Y/N, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

You couldn't stop the tears that welled up in your eyes as he finished, looking at you with such love and adoration you had to restrain yourself from kissing him then.

"And now, the bride will state her vows," Odin said.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Loki's hands. "I, Y/N of Midguard, by the life that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you in my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. I promise to love you when you are confident in yourself, as well as when you cannot bear your own reflection. I will love you when all is perfect, and when it seems all is falling apart. I promise to never judge you, nor your feelings, and to listen to you always, even when it's hard.

"From the moment our paths crossed you have surprised me, distracted me, captivated me, and challenged me in a way that no one ever has. I have fallen in love with you countless times, again and again, without reservation, and I still cannot believe that I am allowed the honour of being your bride.

"Whilst I cannot promise that dark clouds will never hover over our lives, or that the future will bring us many rainbows, I can promise that regardless of what lies ahead I will be by your side through all of it. You have my everlasting devotion, my loyalty, my respect, and my unconditional love.

"You are what makes my life a joy to live, and I vow to cherish every moment that I get to spend in your company. I would, on no uncertain terms, do anything for you. I will always choose you, in this life and every one beyond, in any world, and in any version of reality, I will find and choose you. Today, Loki, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

"Now," The Allfather said after a beat of silence, "The couple will now exchange their handmade daggers."

The two of you released each other's hands, and you turned behind you to receive the dagger that you had made for Loki from Frigga. At the same time, Loki had turned to Odin for the dagger he made for you. Turning back to each other, you each held up your daggers, then Loki leaned toward you and placed the dagger into your waist belt, and once he was finished you repeated his actions, placing your dagger into his waist belt.

"Present your rings," Odin said, and both of you complied.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," Loki said as he slid the ring onto your finger.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," You repeated, sliding the ring onto his finger.

Odin spoke once more. "Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard, today you celebrate one of life's greatest moments and give recognition to the worth and beauty of love. As you have stated your vows with your lips, so you shall seal them with your lips."

Throwing your arms around your now husband, you pressed your lips to his with such force it was as though you had been starved of his kiss for years. The thundering applause and shrill cheers seemed to fade away as you kissed Loki, your fingers tangling in his jet black hair as his hands wrapped around your waist and lifted you, spinning you in a circle.

Setting you back down, Loki broke the kiss, leaning his head against yours and looking at you longingly. "I love you so very much, Y/N," He whispered with a smile.

"I love you, too, Loki," You whispered back, feeling happier than you had ever thought possible.

~time skip~

After you had changed out of your wedding dress into your reception dress, you and Loki enjoyed the festivities and feast for a while, dancing in merriment with everyone until Loki had pulled you aside.

"I need to speak with you," He said lowly, leading you over to the balcony. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, and Loki shut the doors, presenting you with a black box.

"What is this?" You asked, confused.

"I have one last proposal to make," He said, getting down on one knee. "If you truly wish to spend forever with me," Opening the box, a single apple that appeared to be made of gold rested inside, "All you need do is eat this apple."

Your throat felt tight as you looked at the apple. "Loki…"

"This is an Apple of Idun, it is what originally granted the Gods and Goddesses immortality, and if you wish, it will grant it for you as well," He explained.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you touched the apple. It was cool, and felt like a normal apple. Frigga's words from earlier when you voiced your fear of dying before Loki poured into your mind and you gasped. "Frigga-?"

"It was her idea," He admitted. "She convinced Idun to spare an apple in the name of love. Do you accept?"

You sank to your knees, putting yourself at the same level as Loki. "Forever?" You asked, searching his eyes.

"Forever," Loki replied sincerely.

Slowly grasping the apple, you considered the weight of what you were about to do. Were you truly ready to give up mortal life, to live for thousands of years like the people of Asgard?

Looking into Loki's blue eyes, full of love and hope, you knew the only answer was yes. For him, you would do anything.

Bringing the apple to your lips, you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh, biting a chunk out and chewing it slowly. It was sweeter than any apple you'd ever eaten on Earth, perfectly ripe with juices trickling down your chin. Taking another bite, you almost moaned at how delicious it was, reveling in the taste. It seemed the apple had no core, no seeds, so it was unable to be replanted, and you were able to eat the entire thing.

You felt something akin to the feeling of your limbs falling asleep, the tingling sensation spreading over the whole of your body. Your vision blurred, and you would have fallen back if Loki had not caught you and laid you in his lap. A strange, out of body feeling overtook you, as though you were hovering over the two of you, the body laying in Loki's lap no longer yours. It was as if the universe had poured a bit of its everlasting essence into your veins, feeling like the purest magic had filled your body. Then, as soon as it started, it was over.

Vision cleared, you looked up at your husband, seeing him much more clearly than you had before. Every strand of hair caught your attention, every wrinkle in his suit, every line in his hands.

"You are breathtaking," You gasped, your eyes wide in awe. "What just happened?"

Loki smiled softly. "You became immortal."

Sitting up, you threw your arms around Loki, and he grunted, your new strength taking him by surprise. "I cannot wait to spend forever with you," You whispered. "I love you so much."

"Nor can I, my love," He whispered back.

~ time skip ~

The two of you had rejoined the festivities, dancing and grazing on the plethora of food, conversing with the people of Asgard and your team, but now it was time for your honeymoon to officially begin.

Grasping your hand, Loki put his lips to your ear. "I do believe it is time we consummate our marriage, my love," He said lowly.

You felt heat blossom in your core, and blushed. Bidding goodnight to your team, you followed Loki out of the room, followed by a chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles. Tonight was the first night you were to be intimate with Loki in such a manner - he had been being watched by Heimdall and the Allfather most of the time the two of you had been dating, so you had only been able to steal kisses here and there. Not the most romantic, but it was better than nothing.

Now, however, as Loki pulled you to his chambers, you felt almost as nervous, if not more so, than you had before the ceremony. No one was watching you now, the two of you were utterly alone.

Loki stopped outside the door to his chambers, turning to you. For a moment you were confused, but then he scooped you up, bridal style, and carried you over the threshold. The door closed with a solid thud behind you as he walked you to his bed, setting you down gently. After the ceremony you had changed into a shorter dress, the hem reaching your mid-thigh, with a white skirt and lace top that wrapped around your neck. Now, Loki eyed it hungrily, wanting it off.

Gently holding the back of your head in his hand, Loki kissed you, laying you down slowly as he hovered above you. His lips claimed yours completely, his tongue swiping along your lower lip. You gasped lightly, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Feeling a familiar tingling sensation, you realised Loki had used his magic to remove the clothing from both of you, leaving you in undergarments, and you blushed, instinctively moving your arms to cover yourself.

Pulling back, Loki met your eyes. "Hear this now. You need never cover yourself in front of me. You are a treasure to behold, my love, and in my eyes, you are nothing short of perfection." His hands gently pried yours away from your body, his eyes relishing the sight. "There is not a single soul in the Nine Realms that I would rather be with right now, and not a single thing in the Nine Realms that could take me away from you. I love you, not only for your body but for your soul, your mind, your heart and your spirit."

He said every word with such sincerity, his eyes showing nothing but love for you, that you could think of only one thing to say.

"Kiss me."

He did, with an intensity that rivaled every other kiss he'd ever given you, including your wedding kiss. It was so filled with passion that you were certain no being in the Nine Realms and beyond had shared such a kiss before, it felt as though the universe itself was bowing from the vehemence of the kiss.

Every inch of your skin that Loki caressed seemed to be set alight, and you were certain that, had you not been holding him, you would have floated away to Valhalla. You felt his hardened member brush the thin lace veil that covered your core, and were unable to quiet the moan that fell from your lips as your hips bucked, desperate for more.

Loki's lips left yours, venturing down your jaw, your neck, your collar, kissing every inch of exposed skin. You were hot and cold all at once, your body nearly vibrating from the force of your arousal as his lips travelled lower, between your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs. He peppered delicate kisses along the inside of your thighs, looking up at you as his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties.

"Is this okay?" He asked, pausing.

"Oh Gods yes, Loki," You breathed, your chest heaving with the force of your breaths as you met his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he pulled the thin lace fabric down your hips, tossing them to the side as he took in the sight of your glistening core before him. He pressed two long, dexterous digits against your opening, sliding them inside of you and pumping at an agonisingly slow pace. His head dipped down, lips just barely brushing your sensitive nub, inhaling your sweet, musky odour before pressing a kiss to your core.

"Please, Loki, stop teasing me," You whined, gripping the sheets.

He smirked. "As you wish." With force, he launched an assault with his lips, his tongue expertly swirling around your nub whilst his fingers curled perfectly against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned loudly, fingers tangling in his soft raven locks.

Loki's free hand gripped your thigh so tightly as he devoured you, you were sure it would bruise. He moaned, sending delicious vibrations through your core and your orgasm ripping through you with a force you had never before felt, your body set aflame as his name fell repeatedly like a prayer from your lips.

Pulling his head back, your husband looked at you with dark, lust filled eyes as he brought his fingers, covered with your arousal, to his lips. Slowly, he put them in his mouth, sucking off every bit of your juices before pulling them out and climbing on top of you, pressing a kiss to your lips and allowing you to taste yourself.

"You are sweeter than the finest søt vin," Loki said lowly.

Butterflies were no match for the hurricane that erupted in your stomach. "I want you," You begged softly. "All of you. I'm yours."

With a flick of his wrist, the rest of the clothing was removed from both of you. Your eyes moved down, almost of their own accord, taking in the size of his member. You were no virgin, and you were sure Loki wasn't, either but you had never been with someone of such size and girth, and it would be dishonest to say you weren't intimidated.

"I'll be gentle, love," He said softly, his hand caressing your cheek.

"I trust you," You replied, leaning into his touch.

Kissing you softly, you felt the God position his manhood at your entrance, sinking himself into you slowly. He groaned at your tightness, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he waited for your hole to adjust to his large size. The sensation of being so wholly filled by him was a bit painful, your walls stretching to their limit as they tried to accommodate him, and after a moment you bucked your hips.

Pumping into you slowly, the pain morphed into pleasure as your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to sink deeper into you. He quickened the motions of his hips, the head of his manhood perfectly hitting your g-spot as he thrust into you. Both of you were moaning, your lips roaming each other, hands groping anywhere they could reach as Loki plunged into your opening again and again.

"Please, harder," You moaned, gripping his shoulders.

All too happy to oblige your request, Loki brought his hips to meet yours with such force that you saw stars. Moaning loudly, your nails dug into his skin as he thrust into you harder, his movements growing faster as you both neared your climax.

Wrapping his arms around you, Loki pulled you upright so that you were sitting on his lap, continuing to pound into you as he brought your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before nibbling lightly. Delirious with pleasure, you gripped his hair and pulled, earning a loud moan as his nails raked down your back. He smashed his lips to yours, and you bit his lip so hard it drew blood as your orgasm hit you with even more force than the first, your primal screams of pleasure filling the room as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you, releasing his seed as he shouted obscenities.

After a final few pumps, he pulled out of you, the two of you falling back onto the mattress, limbs entangled and your head on his chest.

"I will never grow tired of that," You giggled, fingers drawing lazy swirls on his pale skin. "This has been the best day of my life."

Loki smiled. "It was mine as well." The two of you were covered in a sheen of sweat, and with a lazy wave of his hand, the window opened and a cool breeze wafted over the two of you.

"I love you," You said sleepily.

"I love you," He replied.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

[genshinwritings]

Childe x fem!Reader NSFW

Word Count: 6108 Warning: Mature Content 18+, spicy smut A/N: It was so long so I decided to make an own post for this request. I’ve been staring at my screen for the last 7 hours, my brain is dead now, hahah. I don’t own any of those words anymore as soon as I post it--- just joking Enjoy it! ♥

                                                                                                                              Liyue was a beautiful city to say the least, always crowded with different people, full of culture and there was always something new for you to learn every day. Most people were staying in the city for only a few days, perhaps because of business appointments or just to visit their family which lived there, yet you rarely saw the same face twice. Within only a few days you had gotten to know all the people that lived there or those who were visiting Liyue for a longer time.

You had been assigned to look for a certain person in Liyue but up until now they hadn’t shown up, leaving you with a lot of free time and almost nothing to do. You spent most of your day simply strolling through the city with nothing to do, greeting the different people here and there, before returning to your hotel room the evening.

A few weeks ago you had met Childe, a member of the Fatui. You had been careful around him since the day you found out about his affiliations, not wanting to get too close to him. After spending some time with him you really had to admit that he seemed like a nice and outgoing man which caused you to lower your walls of self defense. He had been staying in the city for a longer time as well and since everyone usually disappeared again after two or three days, the two of you decided to stay in contact, just in case.

You noticed him often waiting in front of the hotel you were staying in and whenever you went out, he would instantly be by your side with his usually flirty grin on his lips. He would make a remark about how destiny keeps pushing you two together, though you knew that it was nothing like that.

Over the past couple weeks he had often asked you to go on a date with him but you had always told him that you’re not interested in a relationship or anything like that, you simply did not have the time for it. He would always smile cheekily and brush it off like you had not said anything at all before taking you somewhere to get some food.

In the end it would always end up the same, before you even have a chance to ask for the bill, the waiter will tell you that your partner already paid for you. Childe will smile cheekily at you before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you out of the restaurant.

Whenever you tell him that he should not make anything up in his mind, he will laugh and tell you that he would never do something like that and that it’s you who should be careful not to fall for him. You almost hated yourself for liking this guy; he was a flirty narcissist but at the same time an utterly lovable and romantic man. The way he was talking and acting around you won you over every time.

Childe has always treated you like a princess, causing your feelings for him to grow even stronger, even though you always told yourself that it was a mistake.

Your day started off like any other day, you got up and went out to grab a cup of coffee at the harbour before strolling around and returning back to the hotel in the evening.

A faint smile formed on your lips upon seeing Childe already waiting for you in front of the building as you arrived. “You’re always missing me so much, aren’t you?” You said with a teasing voice while approaching him, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

Ocean colored eyes focused on yours, a cheeky smile forming on Childe’s lips upon hearing your words as he lightly shrugged his shoulders. “Aren’t you sure that you’re not the one who’s missing me all day?” He replied just as teasingly while tilting his head to the side, looking innocently down at you.

He already knew that he was right because of the way your cheeks colored in a light pink and the way you tried to avoid his eyes. “Stupid..” You muttered as you gently nudged his shoulder before sighing defeated, signaling him to follow you as you walked towards the entrance of the hotel.

The lobby was crowded as usual in the evening. Many people would arrive in Liyue in the evening or at night with the ship and look for a place to stay in, mostly resulting in the city being fuller during the night than during daytime. You were happy that you had been staying at this hotel for a while now, you knew all the people who worked there and everybody knew you, it was almost like a second home to you.

When you and Childe reached the elevator you pressed the button for your assigned floor while another sigh left your lips as you leaned back against the wall. “I somehow love Liyue for being so crowded at night but at the same time, I kinda hate it.” You mumbled while looking up at Childe who was standing behind you, leaning back against the wall as well while staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s good when it’s full and crowded, people tend to mind their own business then and won’t get involved with anything else.” He replied calmly while shrugging his shoulders, pushing his hands into the back pockets of his pants.

You never got to know the exact reason why Childe was staying in Liyue, you had never asked him about it but you also got the feeling that if you were honest with yourself you would not want to know about it. Being a member of the Fatui and all, his reason to stay here could never be a good one.

You were startled when a small ‘ping’ signaled you that you had arrived at the tenth floor, the doors of the elevator opening. You went out first, feeling Childe’s presence close behind you as you slowly trotted over to the door of your room, your fingers fumbling around in your pockets as you were looking for the keycard.

“Why are you even here now? Couldn’t find me in town in the afternoon?” You asked Childe playfully as you unlocked the door, gesturing him to walk in first before following him inside.

You kicked the door shut behind you before taking off your jacket and throwing it over the next chair that was standing around.

Childe watched you amusedly as you made your way to the kitchen, taking out two glasses from the counter before placing them in front of you. “Do you want to drink something?” You asked him while holding up a bottle of Dandelion wine, a mischevious smile on your lips. It was the only thing you were able to offer him besides normal water, you were living on your own the whole time and that clearly showed when looking at your belongings and provisions. “It would be a shame to deny that offer.” He laughed lightly as he entered the kitchen behind you, leaning against the counter while watching you pour the glasses of wine.

“Other than that I’m here because… I don’t know. I guess, I thought it would be more fun to spend some time with you rather than sit alone in my hotel room all night. Perhaps I also knew that it was your plan to drink some wine today and perhaps it’s not very gentleman like to let a woman drink on her own.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, laughing at his comment before turning towards him, handing him a glass of wine. His eyes deeply focused on yours.

You could swear that you saw a glint in his eyes, a playful one which was practically begging for you to continue his game. “I see, I see. Since when are you a gentleman though?”

“I’ve always been a gentleman, have I ever done anything to you that would prove me different?”

You took a sip of your wine, gently laughing it off. Indeed he had never done anything that would make him look like an asshole; he was always nice around you and treated you for food, he always made sure that you were feeling good and happy and at night he always made sure to walk you home.

The only not so gentleman like thing that came to your mind was Childe sometimes suggesting you to ‘go and have some fun together’ in the evening or late at night, even though he had never showed any intention of getting closer to you.

You were suspecting before that he was always joking during those moments, but with time passing you noticed him occasionally making remarks like that, intending that he wanted to become more physical with you.

You were absentmindedly sipping on your wine, a small shock running down your spine when Childe’s arm wrapped around your waist. He was guiding you towards the balcony that was connected to your room, opening the glass door before stepping out into the cold night air, pulling you along with him. Underneath you were crowded streets, lots of people passing by while the shoplights illuminated the small town. Liyue had it’s own charm, you had to admit that.

You swirled the wine around in your glass while biting your lower lip, thinking about an accurate response to his question. “I think you somehow are a gentleman but.. at the same time you aren’t?”

You shrugged your shoulders, taking another sip of your wine as you heard Childe’s footsteps behind you. You were expecting him to stand next to you, to watch the people beneath you but instead you were startled when you felt his hot breath at the nape of your neck. Gently he swung his arms around you from behind, one hand holding his glass while he placed his other hand on the railing in front of you.

“Care to explain that..?” Childe spoke with a low voice, faking a confused undertone before pressing a faint kiss to the crook of your neck.

“I’m always courteous when I’m around you, I never do anything you don’t like…”

You could feel his hot breath on your ear, a cold shiver running down your spine as his tongue traced the shell of your ear. “It’s just..” You started to whisper, swallowing your words as he nibbled gently on your earlobe, his addicting scent rising to your nose.

“You are a gentleman..” You started again, taking a careful sip of your wine before continuing to speak. “… but you’re also intimidating, mysterious and somehow a dangerous person.”

“I see..” Childe laughed softly before leaning himself against you, your back pressing against his broad chest while your abdomen pressed against the cold railing. He took a sip of his wine, his other hand slowly wandering to your waist.

He enjoyed your clueless reaction, the way you did not do anything to stop him and the way your body shivered against his. The effect he had on you was immense and he certainly knew that, he loved playing little games with you.

You took a deep breath before turning around in his arms, staring up into his sapphire colored eyes. There was this glint inside them, the one that always showed when he was about to make a stupid joke about getting physical, yet it was different this time. He did not say anything, he simply stared down at you before his free hand cupped your cheek gently.

“Are you afraid of me right now?” He asked you huskily, his thumb carefully brushing over your lips while he smirked evilly. Everything inside you was screaming not to give in, that it’s wrong to get to close to him, but your body and the building desire inside you were taking control. There was a faint blush on your cheeks as you tried to avoid his eyes, him quickly reacting to catch your chin between his thumb and index finger to make you look at him.

“I asked you, are you afraid of me?”

Childe leaned in closer to you, slowly tilting his head to the side while his lips hovered right above yours. You could feel his breath on your face as the he spoke, your knees slowly turning weak as you thought about how to frame your answer. “Right now, I could never. There is no reason for me to be afraid.”

He chuckled. “If you knew what I would like to do to you right now, you would be afraid, I’m sure, babe.” The way that petname slipped over his lips made you moan quietly against his mouth. It send a tingly feeling right down to your core, leaving you wanting for more.

Upon hearing that sound Childe withdrew himself from you, gently taking your glass from your hand before moving to place them aside. You felt the heat rushing to your face as he turned back to you, both of his hands gently placed on your waist while he stared down at you.

You could feel your heartbeat drumming in your ears as you tried to avoid his eyes, your hands gripping onto the railing behind you to gain some strength of posture. You faked a small laugh, wanting him to know that you were not this easy to break, even though you certainly craved for him to touch you.

“I don’t think there’s anything that would make me be afraid of you, Sir.” You spoke teasingly, making sure to emphasize the last word.  Inhaling deeply you searched for the courage to stare back up at him, a small innocent smile forming on your lips.

Childe couldn’t help but to smile as well, he was seeing right through your schemes, knowing all too well that you were playing all this confidence in front of him. The way your body reacted to him, the way he could easily make you feel bothered and worked up, he knew that he had this effect on you and he would love to play a game with you, especially because he noted that challenging undertone when you addressed his title.

His hands slowly wandered from your waist down to grab your butt firmly in his hands, his body pressing against yours again. His building arousal pressed against your lower abdomen as he leaned slowly closer to whisper in your ear again. “I would love to turn you around right now and rub my cock against that nice perky ass of yours..”

He squeezed your butt again, pressing a small kiss to the shell of your ear. “I would love to bend you over this railing and fuck you hard, til you can’t help but to scream my name anymore, letting all those people down there know it.”

You felt yourself shivering, his words echoing through your body and leaving a trail of desire behind. His words translated to an image in your mind right away, the thought of getting caught looking oh so seductive to you. “There’s still nothing to be afraid of..” You teased him, one of his hands sliding up to your lower back while his other hand cupped your cheek gently again.

He pulled himself from your ear to look at you, his lips brushing gently over yours as he smiled, his face only centimeters apart from yours. “You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

With those words he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a short kiss, a soft mewl leaving your lips as you did not even have the time to cherish that feeling of his lips on yours when he separated himself from you again.

Your placed your hands shakily on his chest, holding onto the fabric of his grey jacket as he laughed lowly, seeing all your confidence you faked a minute ago leaving your body already. “I want to know how good your lips feel around my cock.. which sounds you make when I fuck your throat relentless. I bet you’re such a good girl but right now you’re just too stubborn.”

You licked your lips at the thought of it, your reaction not staying unnoticed by him as his lifted your chin up with his index finger to make you look at him. “I want to break you..” He whispered lowly before slamming his lips against yours for a sloppy and passionate kiss, his arousal rubbing against your lower body as you pressed yourself against him to intensify the kiss.

The way his tongue skillfully poked your lips apart caused you to moan, your fingers starting to fumble around with the buttons of his jacket. His taste was addicting, the way his tongue caressed yours as he dominated the kiss. Carefully he slung an arm around your waist, his other hand sliding from your chin over your throat down to your chest. You were willing to let yourself fall into pleasure, to give in to him and you knew that if you did not stop him now, there would be no going back anymore.

Childe pulled away from you shortly to take a breath, watching your hands undo the buttons with a grin on his lips. “Eager, aren’t we?”

He let you continue with your actions as he moved to press small kisses on your neck, another small moan leaving your lips as your hands finally found their way to his bare chest. Your fingers ghosted over his well toned muscles, his skin burning underneath your palms.

His breath hitched as your fingers wandered over his chest, towards his broad shoulders, gently pushing the fabric back. You could feel him grin against your neck, his hands letting go of you to help you get rid of his jacket along with his gloves. A small yelp slipped past your lips as Childe bit down on the soft skin at the crook of your neck, his hands slinging around your body again to hold you close.

His warm skin was burning against you and the only thing that was running through your mind was the thought of what his bare form felt like against yours, what it felt like to get touched by him, to get dominated.

Your hands shivered as they went to explore his broad shoulders, his muscles constricting underneath your touch. You couldn’t help but to moan, knowing that all this was still part of his teasing. “Childe..” You murmured but he didn’t react, gently sucking on the skin of your neck. You were sure that he was leaving a hickey, one that you would surely have to hide but at the moment you couldn’t care less.

“Sir..” You spoke with a shaking his voice, his teeth sinking in to your flesh again before he groaned lowly in your ear. “That’s right, call me Sir.” His hands found their way to your butt again, firmly squeezing your rear before he lifted you up against him. A surprised sound left your lips as your legs wrapped around his middle, his eyes focusing on yours as he smirked.

The way he was looking right now was so utterly sexy to you, lusty eyes glancing up at you, his hair slightly messy and his upper body bare. You leaned in to catch his lips in another seductive kiss as Childe slowly walked back inside with you, making sure not to break the kiss. He made his way towards the bed that was placed in middle of the open room, throwing you on the mattress in front of him.

He licked his lips while watching you as you crawled to the edge of the bed, carefully sitting on your knees as you glanced up at him with innocent eyes. “What can I do for you, Sir..?”

Childe gently caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips as he absentmindedly spoke to you. “Open up that pretty mouth of yours.”

The way he spoke, low and huskily send another spark through your body, leaving you hot and bothered while a needy moan left your lips.

You tried rubbing your thighs together to gain some kind of friction as you opened your mouth, complying to his words like a decent girl. “What a good girl you are..” He whispered while holding out his index and middle finger in front of you, his other hand sliding over your cheek. “Now suck them..”

Slowly you leaned forward to wrap your lips around his finger, the light salty taste making you moan. Your tongue swirled around his dry fingers as you slowly started to move your head back and forth, never breaking the eye contact as you tried to take them in as deep as possible. “Oh, aren’t you a good one?”

Childe spoke amused before laughing shortly. The power he had when it came to you gave him an insane pleasure and the way you were complying to his demands left him almost speechless. Though there was still one thing that was bothering him big time. He pulled his fingers from your mouth, his voice harsh as he spoke. “Take your clothes off. Now. “

You were shivering in anticipation, wanting to feels his hands on your body again or his fingers in your mouth but you knew that this was only the beginning.

You rubbed your thighs together while slowly grabbing the hem of your shirt, your cheeks flushing in a crimson red shade as you slowly pulled it up and over your head. Childe’s eyes lingered on you, watching your actions oh so carefully as he bit down on his lip.

You were so turned on by him and so was he, his pants becoming immensely uncomfortable as he watched you undoing your bra. You let the piece of fabric slide down from your shoulders, your nipples hardening due to the surrounding cold as you tossed the bra away.

“Fuck..” You heard Childe mumble under his breath as he slowly stepped closer to the bed. He pressed his hands against your shoulders and forcefully pushed you down against the mattress, one of his knees pressing between your legs so you spread them open for him, while his lips hovered above yours.

“You’re wasting so much fucking time.. but it’s so nice to watch. I’ve imagined this before..” He spoke lowly while placing is hand on the side of your breasts, pressing against the skin to make them jiggle in his hands.

“But seeing it in reality is so much better, don’t you think?” His thumbs brushed over your perky nipples, sending a shock right down to your core as a throaty moan slipped past your lips. His lips pressed against yours gently to make you shut up, his hands kneading your soft mounds as his tongue invaded your mouth.

You couldn’t help but to groan softly as he ground his hips against yours firmly, the friction making you feel lightheaded as you instantly wrapped your legs around his middle. Childe pulled away from you, his breathing heavy as he pressed a small kiss to your collarbone before moving to face your breasts.

“So soft.. and beautiful.” He whispered lowly while rubbing his thumb over your sensitive nipple, teasing your other breasts with his tongue. Sensually he swirled his tongue around your hardened bud before sucking it into his mouth, lightly nibbling on it before releasing it again.

Your back arched up, your bare tummy pressing against his chest as you moaned loudly, a light chuckle leaving his lips. He pushed you back down against the mattress with his free hand, biting down on your nipple again while pressing his hips against yours. “Sir…” You muttered incoherently, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders as he moved his mouth to suck on your other nipple, nibbling on biting on the skin while his hands keeps pressing you down.

You yelped from the pain upon him becoming harsher with his bites and nibbles, your hips rolling up against his to somehow make him move. “What do you want..” He whispered against your skin, lustful eyes staring at you while he squeezed your chest.

Slowly he scooted up to sensually lick over your lips, a small groan leaving his lips as you darted out your tongue to meet his. You leaned in to kiss him but he was quick to pull away. He sat up in front of you, his hands sliding from your chest to your tummy down to your hips.

Skillfully he undid the button of your pants, smiling satisfied as you raised your hips without a need for his command. He grabbed the hem of your pants and underlying panties, carefully sliding them down your thighs in one go, humming softly as you raised your legs to help him take them off of you.

He watched you hungrily as you spread your legs wide in front of him, a small blush on your cheeks as you glanced into his eyes. “Touch me, Sir..”

You felt the burning desire pool in your stomach as you held your legs up high to give him a better view of your body, your eyes filling with a tint of neediness.

Slowly he reached out, his cold hand wandering down your lower body as you arched your back, moaning as his index finger came in contact with your clit. “Like this..?” He asked teasingly, sliding his fingers through your wet folds before inserting one finger inside you.

“Or do you want me to touch you like this..” Childe pushed his finger in and out of you slowly, a smile on his lips as he leaned down to flick his tongue against your clit. Your back arched as you moaned out his name loudly, your hands grabbing onto the soft fabric underneath you as you tried to scoot away from him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He muttered and grabbed your hips quickly, throwing your legs over his shoulders while looking up at you. He leaned in again, his tongue sliding over your wet slit before he moved his hands closer again, this time inserting two fingers into your wetness.

He sucked on your clit, swirling his tongue around your most sensitive bud while quickly and forcefully thrusting his fingers in and out of you, wet sloppy sounds echoing through the room.

You screamed out in pleasure, tilting your head back as you felt yourself getting close to your release faster than ever. Normally it took you much longer than that to get this riled up but with Childe’s skilled fingers and mouth, it was as easy as sliding down a hole.

You closed your eyes shut, your womanhood clenching around his fingers as he quickly pulled himself away from you, leaving you gaping and gasping for air. Your body was shivering out of pleasure as you tried to somehow gain a relieving friction by rubbing your thighs together but Childe’s firm grip on your thighs was strong.  

He moved up from the bed while watching you lustfully, your eyes following his hands as they moved to unbutton his pants.

You were licking your lips eagerly while imagining the size of his cock and the way it would taste like in your mouth, crawling closer to the edge again with shaking legs. “Lay down on the edge, head down..” He grumbled while pushing his pants down to his ankles, quickly kicking them off while watching you.

Your eyes were focused on the bulge in his boxers, the way his member stood proud and tall against the fabric, leaving only a few things to your imagination. You quickly complied and rolled over on your back again, your head placed over the edge of the mattress as you glanced up at Childe while opening your mouth, sticking out your tongue playfully.

“Such a good girl, already opening up..” He muttered while pushing his boxers down to reveal his arousal to you, quickly managing to take them off before stepping closer to you. You licked your lips absentmindedly as you stared at his erected cock, standing proud in a curve,  a small drop of precum sliding from the tip down its shaft.

Childe moved closer to you, one of his hands gently placed at the back of your head as he pushed down his cock and inside your mouth. He groaned huskily, the feeling of your lips around his cock being so much better than he had imagined it before.

You tried to relax as he started to move his hips carefully back and forth to thrust in and out of your mouth, all the while staring at you. Your eyes became teary, your hands grabbing onto the soft sheets next to you. “You’re taking my cock in so nicely..” He mumbled while pulling out his cock almost completely from your mouth, chuckling as you quickly gasped for air. “What a good filthy slut you are.”

You moaned against his member as he thrusts himself completely in your mouth again, his movement slowly becoming rougher and harder with every thrust.

The way your throat vibrated against his arousal made him growl, the sounds of you choking on his dick being music to his ears. He quickened his pace, one of his hands slowly making its way to your throat, his fingers tenderly wrapping around your neck.

You mewled softly against his cock as he put pressure on his fingers, the feeling of him choking you sending a tingly feeling through your body. For him it was one of the best things he had ever felt, your mouth around his cock and the way your throat tightens when he chokes you.

You nudged his thighs as you tried to pull away from his touch, the need to breathe in fresh air becoming unbearable. As he released his hand from your throat, he pulled himself out of your mouth once completely, moaning due to the sight of you heavily breathing in front of him, your chest heaving quickly up and down.

The moment he released you you felt more than lightheaded, all the blood rushing back inside your brain as your insides clenched on nothing so hard it hurt. “Please..” You murmured defeated, your words only earning a small laugh from Childe. “Please what..?”

“Please, fuck me, Sir.” You spoke, looking up at him with tears eyes as you slowly crawled to sit on your knees again. The sight of you was more than beautiful to him, the way your lips were plump and swollen, your teary eyes from fucking your throat and the pleads that were leaving your mouth. He could have fallen for you right at that moment.

Gently, he cupped your cheeks in his hands to press a faint kiss to your lips, your body shivering from the excitement. Your skin was on fire, your core so sensitive that it just needed a light touch of his to make you cum right there. One of his hands wandered to your throat again as he pulled you up from the bed, his other hand slinging around your waist as he deepened the kiss while dragging you towards the door of the balcony.

His movements were growing impatient, his grip surely going to leave a mark on your throat tomorrow but you couldn’t care less. When the cold night air hit your bare body, a dry moan left your lips. Childe smiled against your lips before pulling away from the kiss, his hand sliding from your throat up the nape of your neck, before grabbing a handful of your hair, pulling you backwards.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that? I think everyone needs to see what a good girl I have right here.” You could feel the cold railing press up against your bare ass, as he yanked your hair back causing you mewl. “Leave that mouth open for me.” He whispered and you complied to him, your hands pressing against his chest as you looked up into his eyes, sticking out your tongue. He caressed your cheek gently before grinning, spitting in your mouth while watching you with lazy eyes.

You swallowed it before a small groan left you, the taste of his saliva being something that was addicting to you.

A small action that turned you on so much and made your legs shake. “Such a good girl.. Now to the fun.” He said, his voice almost sounding like he threat as he grabbed you by your hips, forcefully turning you around and pressing you against the railing.

You could see the crowded streets underneath you, lots of people passing by which could  possibly see you but your rational mind had left you long ago. “Sir, please give it to me..” You moaned out, not caring about your surroundings in any kind of way as you felt him move up behind you, his arousal pressing against your ass.

His hands moved to your butt again as he massaged each cheek, jiggling them around with his cock placed between them. “It’s really sad.. I’ve also imagined what it’s like to fuck that sweet little ass of yours.” Childe leaned closer so he could whisper in your ear, his breath hot and intoxicating. “But I guess, I’ll leave that for the next time.”

With those words his hands grabbed onto your hips, carefully positioning himself at your entrance before eagerly pushing himself inside you.”Fuck.” You hissed loudly, your hands holding tightly onto the railing as his cock stretched your insides, your mind feeling hazy.

A low groan left his lips as he stayed still inside you for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your tight pussy around him, clenching him with so much need and desire, leaving him wanting for more. He pulled himself out completely, his eyes focused on his cock as he slammed himself back inside, repeating this action at a quick pace.

“Sir, please, fuck me good.” You almost screamed out, biting your lips hard to suppress any more sounds, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing above the heads of the passengers.

You could feel him chuckle beside your ear, his hand finding its way to your throat again as he pulled your back up against his chest, quickly thrusting himself in and out of you at a merciless pace. “Let me hear your beautiful voice.” He moaned out, his free hand wandering down between your legs to rub your sensitive clit.

Several filthy sounds slipped past your lips, your eyes widening due to the immense pleasure. “Childe.. “ You moaned out, your hips moving back against his to meet his thrusts, a hot burning feeling slowly building up in your abdomen.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, breathing heavily as Childe pushed roughly in and out of you. A small scream left your lips as you grabbed onto the hand that rested between your legs, your nails digging into his skin as you walls clenched around his cock.

Childe was swearing next to your ear, his pace not dying down as you came hard around his cock, feeling his own pleasure building up inside him. “Shit..You’re so beautifully tight.” He moaned, not even thinking about giving you a minute to calm yourself down from your orgasm.

His hand continued rubbing your clit, the over stimulation sending almost sending you over the edge right again.

Childe’s fingers slowly tightened around your throat, his pace slowing for a few seconds as you felt like you were about to pass out. He slammed himself back inside you as he felt his own orgasm slowly building up. “Cum for me again, babe.” He whispered huskily, releasing your throat from his grip, the blood rushing back into your brain, the pleasure inside you burning hot as you came a second time.

The way your walls clenched so wonderfully tight around his cock drove Childe crazy, his thrusts becoming harder again, his breathing uneven as he bit harshly down on your shoulder.

Another loud moan left your lips as Childe pulled himself out of you, his fingers wrapping around his cock as he pumped his shaft quickly up and down. A loud groan left his throat as he came over your ass, gently slapping his cock against your skin, coating it with his cum.

“You’re incredible..” He muttered as he came down from his height, your body shivering and your legs weak as you leaned over the railing, trying to catch your breath.

He laughed softly while watching you, gently caressing your side while still panting slightly. “Shall I take you back inside?”

[sukirichi]

— falling out of love with gojo satoru

warnings: angst, mentions of sexual content, cursing

masterlist !

when you fell in love with gojo satoru, your heart exploded like a firework.

you still remember that moment very vividly at the back of your head. it was new year’s, and you two were drunk on both liquor and the feeling of having the other by your side. it was a tough year – as the norm was for jujutsu sorcerers – but you both made it out alive.

alive couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt that day.

satoru has always been the person who stuck by your side through thick and thin like how you were the one who always went against the higher-ups when they tried to limit his capabilities. you should’ve known then, that the higher ups were just the beginning. that when once you thought their oppression for satoru’s plans were nothing but microscopical compared to the barrier his family had placed between the both of you.

they didn’t like you.

he was a gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, while you were...well, you.

you weren’t really anyone special or better than anyone. your technique was decent and had a lot more drawbacks than advantages that you had to improve your physical abilities instead to not be deemed a total useless tool.

satoru never saw you that way. to him, he admired you almost as equally as he cherished his best friend, suguru, so much so that the three of you become the best of friends in the blink of an eye. the more time you spent together, whether alone or with others, it felt like your world just hyper focused or snapped into tunnel vision, zeroing on no one else but the white-haired man whose smile was brighter than any other in the sky.

when he told you he loved you, you couldn’t distinguish which ones were the exploding new year fireworks or the drumming of your heart. you stared up at him then, lips falling open as you released a tiny breath of air, and satoru laughed. he actually laughed.

you wanted to tease him, to punch him even though you couldn’t really ever touch him just to get over the fact he had you losing your composure with eyes glossing over. “well,” he taunted then, one shoulder lifting up lazily. “aren’t you gonna say anything? if you feel the same way, now’s the best time to tell me. we can end the year as friends and start another one as-”

satoru never got to finish his sentence. you had jumped into his arms faster than the speed of light, hands yanking down his yukata to pull him towards you, your lips slamming on his almost greedily.

he didn’t mind. he never did.

for once, it felt as if his infinity never existed. you had both spent the night tangled under the sheets, your name rasped from his lips like a prayer. the way you kneeled for him just moments later with your eyes fervently closed made him feel like he’s the one being worshipped instead, and in a way, it was. you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt the day after when he never gave you a break and kept you pulled closer to him.

you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt if ever the time came that you no longer felt the same.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly. your shared apartment would still be filled with his annoying mannerism of dragging his feet over the floor as he walked, always groaning and complaining that he was hungry but never really bothered to cook anything for himself.

it felt a lot like living with a child where you were his mother, but in that sense, satoru hated it whenever you worried for him.

“you’re not my mother, stop telling me what to do!”

“stop being so arrogant, satoru!” you pointed to the barely conscious child in his arms, the first year student still barely breathing because satoru had gone out of his way again and brought yuuji while he fought a special grade curse. “you may be strong, but not everyone around you is capable of handling what you can! stop dragging people into your mess and start using your goddamn brain for once!”

“you don’t know anything, so shut the hell up.”

you scoffed, hands placed on your hip while you blinked back the angry tears that threatened to fell. you worried for yuuji, you really did, but in reality, you just couldn’t handle seeing gojo pushing himself to his limits and coming back home more wounded than the night before.

“i’m just worried for you, satoru. i don’t want you getting hurt.”

“i’m the strongest,” was all he said – was what he always kept saying. “i’m not going to get hurt.”

“you may not,” you reply stiffly, “but what about me? don’t you think about me? don’t you think about how much it hurts me to see you this way?”

you told yourself you hated him. you hated how arrogant he got. it was good he was confident of his abilities and prided himself of such an honourable title, but satoru was human. he was bound to fall at some point.

eventually, you got too tired.

it was too tiring to keep waiting for him to come home unscathed. you were assigned different missions all the time. satoru would always be working overseas while you mostly helped train the kids and exorcised curses from time to time; no missions that were as dangerous as his.

in the dead of the night, when you were turned away from him in your bed that had already gotten so cold from his usual absence, satoru would slip beside you as silently as he could. the morning afterwards would always be the same: good morning, did you sleep well? he knew the answer. he knew you never slept well without him, but he’d ask just to be nice, and it wouldn’t take too long before you’re both late to work because he missed you too much from being away all the time that he wanted to feel you clamp around him one more time.

it was tiring. too tiring.

that heavy weight never left your shoulders. you cried yourself to sleep far too much that you’d lost count – until you reached a point you just felt nothing. the bed no longer felt cold – just empty. his side always remained untouched, his chair in the dining table barely used, and you’ve gotten so used of washing only your plate and utensils that you wondered if satoru had ever been there.

you wondered if it was a coping mechanism; that maybe you could just no longer handle the pain of having to worry about him every damn night and he’d never care enough to at least be a little more careful, and this was why you just stopped missing him, which was why you just started enjoying the silence in your apartment a little bit more than you should.

but if it was a coping mechanism...why did you feel a lot freer and happier in his absence? instead of it feeling like you were supposed to be distracted, you felt awakened. alive.

alive in the same way he told you he loved you while the skies painted different hues of red, blue, green, and yellow in the darkness that bore witness to your souls connecting that night – the same sky that was now patiently watching as your souls split in half and formed itself whole all over again.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly.

there was no longer someone singing made up songs in the shower. there would no longer be that sound of an annoying loud kiss down the bride of your neck or the smacking of his palm on your ass when he wanted to piss you off.

you fell out of love him so silently that when he crawled next to you that night, you didn’t even hear him. and for the first time in a long time, you slept well the moment he left before the sun stretched its wings across the horizon. when you were greeted by nothing but your own pair of slippers outside your bedroom and not even a post it note to tell you he’d already left for work, a smile tugged on your face.

you made your breakfast in peace. satoru no longer dared to come back home if he was injured because he knew you wouldn’t care enough to fix him up.

although of course you would, but nothing ever beats in your heart for him anymore when you dab the disinfectant across his cut lips. satoru would catch your wrist then to tug you to him slowly, empty eyes staring back at his sky blue ones.

“thank you. for patching me up.”

“you’re welcome,” you’d smile, climbing off his lap while closing the first aid-kit. “go get changed. i’ll cook something up for you.”

it was a silent, empty routine. satoru would thank you for fixing him up because he was never every sorry for worrying you. he’d keep being reckless again and again until he reached a point you no longer cared for him enough to say goodbye to him with a kiss and the slow, tender promise of be safe – i’ll wait for you to come home.

you still kiss him – more out of habit than anything – but you’ve changed.

i’ll see you tonight.

it was empty, silent, completely different from the fireworks he’d ignited within you when he told you he loved you. satoru wasn’t dumb, and he didn’t need his six eyes to see that you’ve grown too comfortable over the large space between you and him between the sofa, almost as if him being away was what felt home for you.

he was never a confrontational man; he hated each waking moment that lead to this, but he had to do it. he needed to do it – to set you both free.

when the commercials started playing, satoru lowered the volume down, voice low and serious as he turned to you. you easily picked up on the sudden tension in the room – the first thing you’ve felt ever since you’ve fallen out of love with him – yet nothing changed. when satoru sighed, your heart didn’t ache.

“well,” he chuckled nervously as he leant back to his side, “things have changed, don’t you think?”

“yes.” there was no point denying it. you knew it – he felt it.

“what do we do now?”

you had no answer to his question. despite the fact you no longer looked at him the same way, not once had it crossed your mind to leave your apartment. not because you wanted to hold on as much as possible to whatever memories you shared under this roof, but simply because you didn’t know where else to go.

it wasn’t like it made a difference anyway. satoru barely came home, and when he did, he made his presence as scarce as possible that you could no longer tell what difference it would make if he was here or not.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, knees hugged to your chest. “what do you want to do?”

his answer came in the form of opened doors. you leant against the doorframe, watching as nanami and even yuuji came to help satoru move his stuff out of the apartment. he found a better place somewhere in the upstate, somewhere much closer to bars and clubs – which you know he thoroughly enjoyed it prior to meeting you – and your mind immediately went back to the time you and satoru first moved in.

it proved to be a difficult task. you both wanted to move in and finish unpacking as soon as possible, but satoru was too eager to christen each part and corner of the house that you both ended up making more mess.

nights spent tucked into each other because the heater was broken and you were both too tired to sleep anywhere except the uncomfortable mattress played like a broken record in your mind. satoru’s laughter echoed when nanami complained that he should stop spending money on souvenirs so he could’ve hired professionals to help him move out instead, your head snapping up at the source of that carefree, sweet laugher that always had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

as if feeling your gaze on him, satoru’s eyes flitted to where you stood. when he smiled, you could tell each genuine apology rang behind it – all the words he never got to say staying like a broken glass that kept cutting him over and over again.

he loved you. he still loves you.

and maybe, tucked away in the deepest parts of your heart that no longer felt fond of him the same way it did before, still held a little compassion enough for this man you once wanted to spend your life with.

you weren’t unkind. you didn’t need to love someone to know when to forgive them, but just for this moment, just for him, you could pretend to for one last time.

smiling up at him with your eyes crinkled and the last bits of adoration for everything about him gleamed through your lashes just before it slipped away into nothingness. it was enough. it was enough for satoru to know he’d been forgiven, and it was enough for him to finally set you free.

the next time you saw him at school, there were no longer fireworks.

your heart was at peace.

[harry-writings]

The Happy Years

- The one where Y/n is unhappy in her engagement and finds an escape with her former lover

Part 1

Masterlist

(A/N) IM SO EARLY IM SORRY I KNOW I SAID 9PM BUT IM DONE SO MUCH SOONER THAN EXPECTED OKAY IM SORRY LOVE YALL <3333

-

Three years later.

The heaviest of thunderstorms hit the city of London by early morning, the loss of the sun and the gloom of the day leaving Harry bedridden for the first time in weeks.

He always tried his best to avoid days like this — trapped within his home, caged in memories that make every step he takes heavier than the last, wishing for just the smallest taste of salvation — because it’s when he’s left alone between these walls that the darkest parts of him come out, ravaging, feeding off of what’s left of him.

Rain reminds him of the day Y/n left. Thunder reminds him of Malibu. Malibu reminds him of all the things he ever used to do with her — on the bed, on the couch, in the hallways.

There’s no escape from what he’s done.

But when the time hits two in the afternoon and Harry still hasn’t gotten up from under his blankets, he decides that doing even the bare minimum with his day would be some sort of accomplishment.

He decided to get the mail.

And what a terrible decision that was, Harry thinks, as he sees an envelope addressed to him in unfamiliar handwriting by an unfamiliar name. Something about it upsets his stomach and throws him off key, knowing in his heart that he shouldn’t open it, but it’s heavy in his hands and he can’t ignore the temptation of it all.

Another terrible decision he’s made.

Please join us for the wedding of Alfie Lexington & Y/n Y/l/n.

Saturday, September 25, 2021 at 3:00 PM.

Dartmouth House. Mayfair, London.

The downpour feels like a drizzle compared to the cries Harry lets out as he reads the wedding invitation, his worst nightmare playing out right before his very eyes and if he wasn’t already so fucked up, he’d try his best to ignore it.

Y/n played her move. She wants him to strike back. She wants to win and watch him lose more than he already has. That’s all she has left of him.

His lips tremble as he sniffles, the invitation shaking between his palms as he lets reality sink in.

Y/n is getting married.

Y/n is happy.

Y/n is going to spend the rest of her life with somebody other than him — somebody that was once his friend.

It's unfathomable to him. The connection him and Y/n shared was unlike any other. They were drawn to each other instantaneously, their feelings of infatuation never once dying down because it was simply incapable of doing so.

They put each other first. They made each other better people, helped each other grow through all the droughts and winter days, and continuously found ways to become closer to one another. They were so comfortable and confident in their company, and so every day they spent together within those four years had never been anything less than pure happiness.

They were meant to be. He didn’t see it then, but he sees it now, and now that’s all he sees because everything he sees is her. 

To know that it’s no longer the same for her kills him from the inside out, because now she really doesn’t belong to him.

He lets out a sound that can only resemble what would be a whine and a groan made together, sobbing as he flips the invitation around, only to find another saved date he just doesn’t have the heart to see — an engagement party for all the invited to join.

He’s so overwhelmed with devastation that his brain becomes fogged, his body disassociating from itself as he rips the invitation apart, growling and screaming and wailing as he just keeps ripping it and ripping it and ripping it.

He’s destroying it in the same way it destroyed him until he gives up, slamming his fists down upon the counter, losing control of himself beneath all his pain and regrets. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. This isn’t what was supposed to come from this life.

He’s barely surviving as it is.

And he just needs to see her again.

But he doesn’t know how he’d react once he does. Whether he’d want to kiss her, to hate her, to love her all over again, he doesn’t know. His entire world is collapsing and he doesn’t know how to save it from falling apart. He can’t take any more risks when it comes to her.

But what is love without fear and danger? What would it say about him if he were to walk away from this now instead of trying just once more with her?

So with a heavy heart and a sobbing chest, he doesn’t take his chances.

And Y/n simply just couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

Harry is standing at her doorstep, soaked head to toe, shaking in his bones. His lips are a light shade of blue and his eyes an alarming shade of red, somehow wetter than the rest of him. And as the thunder rumbles beneath her feet and nearly sends her to her knees, it goes to show her that he really is here, standing at her doorstep, and it’s not just a dream.

And she must have been struck by the shock of his presence because her tongue is suddenly tied, her throat dry, her lips fallen open yet forgetting how to breathe.

She just looks at him, soaking him all in, trying to understand what exactly led him back to the biggest mistake of his life.

“Harry?”

“So that was your way of getting back at me?! After three fucking years?!”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing in defense. How he could possibly accuse her of something she didn’t even do — considering she hadn’t made any attempts to reach out to him since the moment she left Malibu — makes her feel even more betrayed than before.

He should know her better than this. He should know her from the inside out at this point, but she supposed three years really is a long time, because she’s never seen this side of Harry before. He seems so different to her now.

“Don’t you dare come to my home and try to make an ass out of me! Since when have I ever been the kind of person to get back at somebody?!”

Harry stutters for a moment, his anger and jealousy and hurt blinding him from the truth that Y/n never goes out of her way to get even. Her heart is too big, but he can’t shake this feeling that the person who sent him the invitation was out to do him harm.

And nobody had more of a reason to hurt him than Y/n.

“So the wedding invitation, then? You had nothing to do with that?”

He speaks it condescending, as if he didn’t believe a word she said, but that’s not what it comes down to. It comes down to the fact that she has moved on and found herself somebody so much better than him, and he has no one.

She shakes her head as if to gather her thoughts, confused about how he even found out about the wedding considering Harry quit the firm just hours after he left Malibu, leaving him with no contact to anybody that had any string tied back to her.

“Of course I had something to do with the wedding invitations! I’m the one getting married!”

She pauses then, her cold demeanor dropping into something Harry wants to say resembles a hint of relief, but it’s much more cross than that, much more serious, and he doesn’t expect what’s coming next.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Me getting married?” She speaks it through a small, bitter laugh. “I should have known the only way you’d fight for me was by being with somebody else. You never could stand being second to me, as ironic as that is.”

“I could give two shits about you getting married.” He lies through clenched teeth, his stomach sick at the mere thought of it. “But I do have an issue with you inviting me to your wedding after walking out on me.”

Her head snaps back up to him.

“Wait, Harry, what are you talking about?” She frowns, trying to make sense of it. “I didn’t invite you to the wedding.”

Why would she?

They are no longer friends, no longer much of anything, so for her to take time out of her day to sabotage anything but herself wouldn’t feel right to her. Besides, it was her decision to never speak to Harry again, she wouldn’t ever take her word back.

Harry frowns then, too, because she isn’t faking her emotions. She’d always been terrible at doing so, and the way her eyes scream and beg for answers can’t go ignored. He, again, feels like the absolute worst person in the world.

“Then who did?” He whispers.

There’s only one possible answer.

-

Seven months ago.

Alfie insisted that he and Y/n had a New Year’s Eve party. They’d never had one before, as Y/n much preferred staying in with a bottle of champagne and celebrating with a lobster dinner and late night reruns of The Honeymooners.

But Alfie was persistent. Very persistent. Too persistent. So persistent she had no choice but to give in, and she just didn’t understand why.

She didn’t understand it as days passed and all Alfie talked about was the stupid party. She didn’t understand it when he rented out one of the most expensive venues. She didn’t understand it when he laid awake the entire night before, too anxious to fall asleep. She didn’t understand it when he asked her to wear his favorite dress.

She wished that she did the moment it happened.

The clock was ticking.

“Five!”

Alfie reached for Y/n’s hand.

“Four!”

Y/n noticed something shift in the air.

“Three!”

Alfie reached his other hand into his pocket.

“Two!”

Y/n knew what was coming.

“One!”

Alfie dropped to one knee.

“Happy new year!”

It was every girl’s dream — the fireworks, the balcony, the view, the prince charming that would whisk her away to spend the rest of eternity together — yet it couldn’t have felt any more like a nightmare.

It wasn’t what she wanted. Not then, not ever before, not once during the span of their relationship, and time seemed to have stopped moving forward.

There she was, in the center of the universe as everybody stopped and stared, gasping and gushing at the sight of a man on his knees for a woman. An act of vulnerability, of love, of submission, yet it didn’t feel like any of those things.

It all felt so wrong.

She began to cry.

To everyone else, it seemed as though she was crying from happiness. Her devoted boyfriend of two years finally asked for her hand in marriage, to be the mother of his children, to spend the rest of their lives tied together by a vow, unable to be broken. So it was no surprise when everybody let out an awe of endearment, nobody (not even Alfie) knowing her well enough to distinguish the difference between her happiest and saddest cries.

Harry would have known.

And that was all it seemed to come back to in that very moment in time.

Harry.

What she would have given to feel his hands on her waist, blocking her body from view with his, taking her away from all the unwanted eyes on her fragile body. He would have done it in a heartbeat because he always did — he always found a way to help her escape her horrifying realities, even the sweetest of ones.

What she would have given for it to be him kneeling in front of her… this all would have been so different.

Her lover of two years was promising her a future, yet all she could think about was somebody stuck in her past, yet so heavily prevalent in her present.

But she couldn’t say no. How could she when everybody expected the answer he was looking for, ready to toast to the bride and groom? How could she when phones captured the beginning of the rest of their lives, ready to share for all to see?

But she couldn’t say yes, either.

She settled for a nod of her head.

The crowd cheered, some clapping, others clinking their glasses, lovers kissing. She only caught a glimpse of those celebratory moments before everything around her drowned in her tears, voices of congratulations so distant beneath her heavy, hyperventilated breaths.

Alfie embraced her, then, and she felt his laughs of euphoria rumbling in his chest as hers met his, and she couldn’t even pretend.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, her expression void of everything that she should have been feeling. And her eyes went blank as they caught a reflection of her through the balcony windows — the last time she ever saw herself for what she truly was.

-

That same day.

Y/n was a mess waiting for Alfie to get home.

Seeing Harry again filled her with so many different emotions, she didn’t know which one to start with. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to destroy everything and everybody that dared get in her way, she wanted to disappear. Yet she had done none of it. All she could manage to do was pace around her bedroom, biting at her nails and getting lost in her scrambled thoughts, her mind and body moving at a million miles an hour, unable to be tamed.

This is precisely the reason Y/n never wanted to see him again.

He does things to her, he always has. She hardly has any control over herself whenever it comes to him and she fucking hates it. No matter how sad, how mad, how hurt or how upset, there was something about his presence that made her see past all of that. It saddens her how much she used to love it.

But her moods swing at her relentlessly, the sadness turning to anger because yes, she is angry. She’s angry that he still has this much of a hold on her, especially after everything he’s done, and she’s even more angry that he hasn’t yet apologized for it.

Because it was all getting better. The constant wondering about what he’s doing or who he’s with and the continuous string of thought always leading back to him was all finally falling into its place. She was finally finding her place.

And then her fiancè did this.

When she hears the bedroom door open, she hardly gives Alfie any time before she starts a fight, wishing nothing more than to take it all out on him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/n fumes, everything tainted red with anger as she looks into his eyes and feels nothing but hurt and betrayal. “Inviting Harry to our wedding behind my back?! Do you not remember what he did to me?! Do you not realize what you just did?!”

He frowns, not sarcastic or menacing, but he genuinely seems upset that she’d ever even ask him such a question.

“Y/n…” Alfie sighs, and she suddenly hates the way he’s always managed to remain calm in the most heated of arguments. She wants to start a war with it, to go for the kill, to make him crawl and beg and bleed for her forgiveness. “Of course I remember what he did to you, which is exactly why I did it.”

Her hands turn to fists.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I wanted to hurt him for hurting you! God damn it, Y/n… after finding out what he did to you all I could think about was ripping him to pieces and that urge never left me, especially after we got together.”

He slumps himself down at the foot of the bed, loosening the tie around his neck, almost too aggressively. And if she wasn’t so out of her mind enraged, she would try her hardest to understand his side.

But there is no excuse for this. There’s no excuse for any of it.

“So now you use our marriage as a way to get back at him?!”

Y/n may not love Alfie the right way, but she had never stooped so low to treat her marriage like a weapon, ready to strike at any moment in time. It wasn’t something she used to inflict pain onto anybody else but herself, no matter how hard it had gotten.

And though she once believed their engagement meant more to him than it ever meant to her, she can’t help but feel as if that’s just another lie she’d been forced to live with.

He went behind her back deliberately to hurt somebody even she never intended on hurting. He knew what was to come of this and yet here he is, letting it all happen for satisfaction’s sake.

It feels like all she will ever be is used.

“Is that what this is to you?! A point on your scoreboard?! A big ‘fuck you, i won!’?”

“Isn’t that what this is for you?”

“Don’t you dare turn this into my problem.” She spits through clenched teeth, punching at the dresser beside her with the side of her fist, face burning with fury. “I’m not the one sending him our wedding invitations!”

“And I’m not the one staying up past midnight scrolling through pictures of him on my phone!”

Her mouth shuts then, her hard and pressed features softening at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

She had been looking at pictures of Harry almost every night since Malibu, she just never expected to get caught. She could physically feel Alfie fall asleep against her, so she always waited thirty minutes before she took her phone out, looking back at everything that once was.

It was the only thing she ever truly wanted.

It’s what she kept going back to — a habit that came as naturally as telling her best friend about her day, about her perspectives on the world, about the lack of guidance in her life — like a phone call at the end of the day as a way to unwind.

She had make believe conversations with him as she scrolled endlessly through her favorite photo album, the thickness of his accent engrained in her mind as she thought of everything he’d say to her if he were still around. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d live vicariously through the memories they made together and replay those moments all night, until they lulled her to sleep.

“I told you from day one that —”

“That you’re never going to let him go, I know. I know that he was the love of your life at one point but this is just pathetic now, Y/n. Absolutely nothing short of pathetic.” She frowns, his choice of words making her heart sink because he knows exactly how to do it. And he sighs, rubbing his hands up and down his face as if he were in agony. “I didn’t know this was the kind of shit I was signing up for.”

Her eyes brim with tears but don’t offer anything more, only upset that he couldn’t find a way to understand her when she’s trying so hard. But he never has and he never will — not in the way she needs him to and not in the way that could ever make this work.

“I’m not sorry for what I did.” She confesses sadly, her bottom lip between her teeth and fingers picking the skin around her nails as she tries, yet again, to make him see. “He was my best friend before he was anything else to me. There was a time in my life where he was all I had.”

And though her heart is still with Harry in every aspect of every way, it’s true. He was her best friend and that’s what she misses the most. There was so much to him that meant so much to her and none of it could ever be replaced, not even by Alfie.

“You know I love you but you also know I'm not the same woman you fell for in Malibu. I’m my worst self when I don't have him around and your favorite parts of me don’t exist without him. Don’t pretend like you don’t see that.”

His hands twitch against his lap, his shoulders slumping because it’s true. The most lively and brightest parts of herself had died the first step she’d taken away from him that night. Sure, she’s still the most resilient and beautiful woman Alfie had ever known, but she’s never been the same since then.

She’s still in love with him and there’s nothing for him to do about it. He didn’t see it until he saw the way she sulked over Harry that night, all those years later, with a diamond ring on her finger that just seemed to weigh her down even more.

None of this means anything to her.

“It’s been three years, Y/n. Just find yourself a new best friend and move the fuck on already. I’m getting sick and tired of this.”

What he doesn’t understand is that she is, too.

-

Two weeks later.

Y/n shouldn’t be this alone at her own engagement party, but it’s the impossible things that always manage to find their way to her.

The party consisted mostly of Alfie’s friends, considering Y/n is much more of an introvert than he is and the small number of friends she does have seemed to have disappeared within the sea of unfamiliar faces. She felt lost for a moment, but when she finally found her fiancè, he had been too invested in his own friends to spare her a single one of his glances, and it soon became disheartening to wait for him to acknowledge her when the thought of her never once crossed his mind.

So she ends up on the steps of their back porch, sipping on a glass of champagne, overlooking the garden, breathing in the silence.

She closes her eyes and succumbs herself to the summer breeze, wondering what she has to do to find a single glimmer of happiness. Her life is just so sad, a labyrinth of betrayal and hurt and heartbreak she can’t ever escape.

Darkness is all she sees when she thinks about her future. There is nothing for her to look forward to. Every day will come and go the same way it has been — unwanted, dreaded, wasted, another failed attempt of contentment. It all seems so hopeless to her now.

The champagne doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to a lonely Y/n, and it isn’t nearly enough to curb her mood, either as she huffs at her empty glass, wishing she had taken another.

She sets it down next to her, placing both her elbows on her knees, getting lost in her world of sorrow, long forgotten by her lover.

Harry is the first one to find her.

He had parked his car across the street from her shared home with Alfie, and even from his distance he knew Y/n wouldn’t be inside. He knows her too well to know she wouldn’t find her place in crowded rooms where the attention is all on her, even if it was all in the comfort of her own home.

And the fact that Alfie didn’t know her senses of belonging well enough to accommodate them made him seeth. She is an independent, a lone wolf, a woman who moves solely in her own way and anybody who’s ever loved her knows that above all else.

He doesn’t care for her.

And he doesn’t need to go looking for her because he can feel her, as if the universe somehow bent its laws of gravity and pushed him straight to her back porch steps, where he finds her all alone.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a hand fall softly on her shoulder, but immediately sinks into comfort when she sees that it’s Harry moving to sit beside her, his hand refusing to pull away.

Finally, she has a friend.

“Hey.” She says softly, one of the corners of her lips turning slightly upward at his unexpected visit. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He smiles briefly at her before he overlooks the garden, his fingers squeezing at her shoulder before resting his palms over his lap. And there’s something about being next to her again that makes everything around him fall back into place. This is where he’s meant to be.

“Honestly, neither did I, all things considered.” They both let out a chuckle, the atmosphere between them so horrifically sad yet so incredibly right. “But I just really felt like I had to be here for you tonight.”

Despite the years that had passed and everything that drove them apart, Y/n remains who he loves most in this world. His connection to her never died, so the sudden gusts of off and disturbing feelings Harry used to get whenever Y/n was troubled had never left him. He felt it all just as strongly — her anxieties, her fears, her tears and everything in between. And he’s glad that part of them never died because the look in her eye tells him everything he needs to know.

She’s absolutely miserable.

She sighs, the corners of her lips falling as she stares at her engagement ring, her thumb and pinky twisting it around her ring finger, itchy and heavy no matter which way it's worn.

“Me and Alfie aren’t doing so well.”

She didn’t have to say it because he can already see how treacherous they are together, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to hear.

He lost his right to be selfish with her in Malibu, and though he does gain a sense of happiness knowing he may have a chance with her again, it’s significantly outweighed by her sadness. Nothing had ever pained him more than that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shakes her head, her fingers reaching up to tuck fallen pieces of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be. I don’t really know why he decided to do this, anyways.”

Harry’s lips fall.

“Marry you?”

Y/n’s leg begins to shake, her greatest and most absentminded nervous habit. And Harry had always been quick to place his hand over her thigh and rub at the surface, meeting her eye halfway and taking a deep breath in, to which she would always follow. He hesitates to do so tonight, but settles for it anyway.

She looks appreciative beneath it all.

She’d forgotten about Harry’s subtle favors over the past three years, so to feel it all again when she has been so low and neglected feels like a blessing to her. It feels like somebody finally cares for her, and that’s all she had been wanting all along.

Harry, she feels, is the only one who ever truly has.

“We just never talked about it. It was this big, ginormous, unavoidable, life changing question thrown at me with no warning at all.” Her forehead falls to her palms, as if humiliated by the memory. “In front of everybody.”

Harry’s heart crumbles from within him because nothing Alfie has given her has been anything she’s wanted, and that’s not what she deserves.

He remembers it so distinctively now — the way she poured her heart out to him just a few months before Malibu. It was the third Valentine’s Day they’d spent together and Y/n got so drunk, she spent nearly the entire night venting to him about everything she’d feared when it came to her future relationships.

With her head on his shoulder and her leg slung over his hips, Y/n’s thoughts were so destructive, she couldn’t bear to entertain them any longer, so she decided to let it all out.

“And what if my boyfriend proposes to me in a room full of people? I’d drown in sensory overload. And what if I want to say no? Or maybe? Or yes, just not right now? With all those people looking at me? I think I would pass away.”

Harry looked down at her in subtle curiosity, his fingers playing with her hair in the way they always liked. She was the only thing in his sight that wasn’t spinning out of his control.

“So how do you want to be proposed to?”

She hummed, as if contemplating her answer. But she knew. She already knew.

“In bed, probably. It’s so intimate and private there. So non-traditional. You’re the most done down at your first hour and something about someone wanting you at your worst, forever, is so poetic.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes merely seconds after.

“Will you make sure he does that for me, please? Promise me you’ll try.”

He smiled the best he could at her, pressing his lips down to her forehead. They lingered there for a moment, and Y/n’s breath was taken away.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

What makes the memory even worse was how much he really did love her and how blinded he was to it. He kissed her. He held her. He played with her hair. He slept beside her that night. He kissed her again goodnight. He brought her breakfast in bed the next morning. He did it all over again.

It couldn’t have been any more obvious.

But there’s something about the way she hasn’t expressed any of those concerns with Alfie that doesn’t sit right with him. It just doesn’t make any sense to him.

“Been with him for how long now, two years? And you really didn’t expect him to propose to you? Have you met you?”

She sulks herself deeper into her knees.

“I don’t know. I guess — I guess I just never really thought about it.”

Never thought about it?

“But you’ve always wanted to get married.” He says it more like a question than a statement, genuine concern and confusion in his tone of voice as his eyebrows furrow, trying to comprehend it.

She looks up at him with a void, empty expression.

“Yeah, but never to him.”

Her eyes linger on Harry’s for just a beat longer — just long enough to catch a glimpse of the way his lips fall and the way his face drains of color — before she blinks away from him, turning her gaze back toward the garden. The flowers have never looked so lifeless.

“Y/n… if I had known how you felt, I —”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back down at her trembling hands, tears now burning in her eyes as the sudden sadness of the conversation starts to weigh down on her. “You had four years to feel the same for me and you never did. My feelings would have done nothing to yours.”

“And I never did?” Harry asks incredulously, his voice low and faltered behind the heaviness of her words. “Is that really what you’ve been living with the past three years?”

Loose tears begin to fall down her cheeks because yes, she has been living with his unrequited love for six years and no, it’s never gotten any easier. It’s pathetic and ridiculous and the most unexplainable form of grief she’d ever carried, but it’s the most devastating kind. “How could I think any differently?”

“Because it was real, Y/n. Fuck.” He lets out a strangled, dry chuckle upon his words as he runs his shaking fingers through his hair. He’s nervous, absolutely terrified because if he fails to show her how deeply he feels for her now, he may never get the chance to again, and losing her is no longer an option for him. Not when she’s so close. “Because you know me better than anybody else and you know I wasn’t faking it with you. How could I have been? You would have seen right through me and you know it. You always do.”

Perhaps the love blinded her. Perhaps her heart was so invested it deceived her to see only the things she wanted as a subconscious form of self-preservation. It’s not an impossible possibility, and it’s certainly one she believed in throughout all this time, but a part of her can’t help but find a hint of truth stuck somewhere between his words.

The kissing, the touching, the tasting, the laughing and the loving did feel real to her. It felt real when she saw the way he smiled after every one of their kisses, and the way he reached for her when it was just to two of them, like he couldn’t get enough, and the way he moaned against her, and the way he told her he loved her, like he meant it.

She knows all of his movements and all of his habits — knows all the signs of his stress, his sadness, his tension, his ease. She knows the emotions he wears and the ones he doesn’t, notices everything he does and doesn’t do, and never once did anything he did with her seem anything less than genuine.

She hates that it’s taken her so long to see that, but it doesn’t fix all that he had broken now that she does. She wishes that it could, this life would be so much easier for her to live.

“You really hurt me.” Her voice quivers, low and quiet as she speaks her truth, and it breaks his heart all over again. Never has he heard her sound so sad in his life, and it’s all because of him.

“You think I don’t know that? I hate myself for everything I put you through because you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He pauses, waiting for her to say anything else, but it doesn’t come. All there is for her to offer are her silent cries and waterfall eyes.

“That night with Lydia… nothing happened. She caught me off guard and I panicked because how could I not? She was giving me everything I thought I wanted yet all I could think about was how I wanted it to be you.” Y/n’s breath falters then, a knot forming in her chest as she revisits the sight of that horrific night. “I tried so hard to talk it out with her, but she wouldn’t let it go. She kept persisting and persisting and she didn’t give me the chance to explain myself before you walked in on us.”

She didn’t truly know what happened between him and Lydia, but she had her ideas. Whether they kissed, touched, confessed their love or crossed bases, the truth would have only made it worse for herself. Ignorance was bliss when it came to them.

But she didn’t think nothing happened, either, especially when the first words that Y/n heard Lydia say to him that night was I love you, too.

Too.

Too.

Too.

Like he said it first.

She really hopes he didn’t, but she’s so afraid of his answer that she doesn’t ask.

But she doesn’t say anything else, either, because there’s so much more she needs to hear from him but she doesn’t know where to start. She doesn’t know what to do, yet she wants to know everything.

“You were all I ever wanted and I’m so sorry for the way I had to find that out. I’m so sorry that I had to hurt you to realize how ridiculously in love I am with you.”

And how ridiculous it’s gotten.

“It haunts me. It follows me everywhere I go. Every morning, I think about the way you slept beside me in Malibu and how perfect you looked before you even had the chance to wake. I still reach for you even when I know you’re not there just so I can say I tried. Every time I walk the street, I somehow convince myself that I see you walk past me and I always turn back just in case I missed you. Then I spend the rest of my day wondering where you are and how much happier I’d be if you were with me.”

And it’s all so true.

She is around him at all times. Her spirit lingers in the air he breathes, her shadow alive in every ray of sun that touches his skin, unable to be soaked away. The ghost of her is everywhere he is, always, and it pained him just as much as it comforted him.

“I come across all these women and go on all these dates in hopes to find someone that makes me feel half the things you do, just to go home hours later and watch all the stupid videos and photos I’ve taken of you throughout the years because it’s you that my heart is after. Nobody else.”

She melts into herself at his confession.

To know it wasn’t one-sided — the longing, the missing, the wanting so bad that he couldn’t help but look back at all their memories together. Whether he was beside those women or not, she had done the very same thing, and it’s almost as if those hidden moments of desperation were a silent call to one another.

He reaches his hand to her thigh again, his skin warming her to her bitter core, setting a fire in her that had burnt out many years ago. And she doesn’t stop staring at it.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything else in this world. I love you so much that it drove me crazy to think about you spending the rest of your life with somebody else because I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of mine without you. But that’s my heartbreak to live with, not yours.”

But it is. It is because he’s the only one she’s ever wanted and living her life with someone else was once unimaginable. It still is. Even through her relationship with Alfie and everything they’ve built together, it wasn’t ever the same.

And it’s not a matter of her not loving him, because she does, just not in the way she loves Harry. He is a high she constantly fiends for, an intoxication that keeps her wild and free, an addiction like no other. Being without him makes her feel sober — in a constant state of withdrawal, falling down deeper into her urges, dependent solely on her relapses — and Alfie is just the mild distraction.

All of this is her heartbreak.

His fingertips rub softly at her leg.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I don't know how I’m ever going to find a way to move on from you, and I don’t know if I ever will, but at least I had the chance to tell you everything you deserved to know. I didn’t think I’d ever have it.”

She still doesn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect anything more.

He wishes he could stay with her for just a bit longer, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome (if he could even call it that). And he starts to cry as he thinks about leaving her alone again.

She’s forever going to be his hardest loss.

“I have so much more I want to say to you, but this is your night with Alfie. I don’t want to be the one to hold you back from it.”

He squeezes the top of her thigh, dreading the let go. This may be the last time he sees her or speaks to her for a while, and that in itself is enough to make this so much harder on him.

“I’ll miss you everyday.”

He can’t even look at her as he says it.

His eyes are flooded with sadness as he stands from where he sat beside her, shaking fingers wiping at his tears, his heart the emptiest it’s ever been yet his chest heavier than ever before.

It suddenly dawns on her that she never wants to see him walk away from her again. She doesn’t want to go another dreaded day without him beside her, or go the rest of the night thinking of everything she could have said, but didn’t.

She wants him. She loves him. And she doesn’t want him to go.

“Wait.” She grabs his hand in both of hers before he can make it too far, her eyes wet but the brightest he’d ever seen them. “The party doesn’t end for a while and — and Alfie hasn’t come looking for me since it started, so…” She hesitates, his hands still in hers, and everything is right in the world again. “Do you want to take a walk with me? It doesn’t matter where just, please stay here with me?”

And how could Harry ever say no to her?

He lifts her up from where she sits, the first real and genuine smile he’s seen out of her since they’ve reunited spreading on her lips, and he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

They stray further than expected, catching up on everything they’ve missed throughout the years. It all feels so easy and so right, as if time had hardly passed between them, yet they’ve never felt more apart. Never once did they expect to live in each other’s world through late night storytelling and clandestine getaways.

They laugh. They cry. They reminisce. And they don’t let go of each other’s hand the whole night through.

-

Y/n returns to the back porch a couple hours later, grabbing the finished champagne glass she’d left on the top step to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Not that she necessarily has to, she doesn’t feel as though she’s done anything wrong, she just couldn’t imagine what would come from this if Alfie was to find out.

She slides the back door shut quietly behind her, the remaining guests only giving her a small smile of acknowledgement, none at all suspicious. Some offer her hugs and mingle with her, congratulating her as if it were their first time doing so, telling her how perfect of a marriage she and Alfie are going to have.

If only they knew.

But it isn’t until the last of the lingering guests make it out the door that Y/n and Alfie are left alone — the most dangerous place for them to be. And neither of them speak a word to each other, just meeting eyes for a brief moment in time, as if avoiding everything else that came with the night.

The air is heavy, the chill brutal, but it’s what Y/n is so used to. This is her normalcy.

“I’m glad you had fun tonight.” Y/n says plainly, gathering all the littered champagne and wine glasses floating around the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, she would have stood her ground much more strongly, but the bitterness inside her subsided to something much sweeter after her time with Harry. The weight of the world is gone, it seems, the moon and sun and stars aligned perfectly in her universe. She is weightless, floating, her spirit dancing along the edges of her own personal heaven.

The silence Alfie responds with doesn’t strike a nerve like it usually would. It rather goes unnoticed, only furthering her into her illicit dreamland.

Harry’s touch lingers on her skin and she can feel it all the same even though he’s gone. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks back to the way his lips pressed against her cheek before parting ways, muttering the quietest goodnight, lovie against her skin, leaving her breathless.

She is endlessly hypnotized by him, forever under his spell, as if his lips were made of magic.

And Alfie’s heart sinks when he sees the look on her face. It’s been years since he’s seen it, yet it’s all so familiar once he does. It’s the same look he fell in love with when he first met her in Malibu.

It’s all so clear to him now.

“So we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave our engagement party with Harry?”

Y/n lifts her head to look at him properly for what seems to be the first time tonight, his question catching her off guard since she had so rightfully assumed he wasn’t concerned about her whereabouts, and Harry didn’t make his presence known to anybody but her.

But she doesn’t fight it, doesn’t deny it, doesn’t try to scrape for excuses that’ll only dig her in deeper because she doesn’t regret what she did or why she did it. She has no reason to.

“And we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t completely exclude me from our engagement party?”

Alfie’s hands slam against the kitchen counter, a bitter and sarcastic laugh falling from his lips, as if she had said something untrue. “So I don’t give you attention for two minutes and you decide to run off with some other guy?”

“Two minutes? Try two hours on a night that was supposed to be for us.” It’s her turn to slam her hands down, except hers land on her thighs. “I was sitting on our back porch all night and nobody, not even you, came looking for me.” She sits down on the island stool with burnt-out eyes and heavy shoulders, drained from the reality of their relationship, tired of trying for somebody that’s never held her heart the right way. “Harry was miles away and even he found a way to find me.”

And just like always, it all circles back to Harry.

She’s never been one to compare — verbally, at least — so there is a gloom that hovers over her after she says it, the guilt settling in her bones, but it’s the reality of their situation. An old lover held his hand out to her while Alfie refused hers, and it ended up exactly where it had always belonged.

“All you had to do was ask me to be with you.” He sighs, depleted, because it’s true. He would have been there the second she called his name. It’s the fact that she didn’t that shows him how incompatible he is with her wants.

“I shouldn’t have to.” She frowns, fingers fiddling with the skin around her nails as she contemplates what there is to say next. “Is that how this marriage is going to work? Me begging you to be there for me all the time? Because I’ve never been that kind of person. I will never be that person.”

Alfie breathes heavily in response but doesn’t know what else to do or say to get her to stay. She’s slipping right through his fingers and he can physically feel it — can feel the way she feels for another man, can see the way her eyes refuse him, as if hiding away from something.

But this isn’t about him, it can’t be because it was all going so well, so much better than ever before and nothing ever pushed her away, until Harry.

This is all him.

“You know he doesn’t love you, right?” Alfie breaks the silence, her heart along with it, because she needs to be reminded how badly he had done her wrong. She wouldn’t be turning him into the villain if she did. “He lied to you. He used you to get what he wanted. He —”

“He does love me.” She interrupts him because she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want him to talk her out of this, no matter how much she should. But it’s on the tip of her tongue, almost breaking from its resistance, and she can’t swallow it back down now. “He was there for me more than you were tonight and he’s not even the one I’m engaged to.”

Another deafening silence.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He understood her, loud and clear, but she’s speaking between the lines. There’s a part of her that’s holding back from something and he already knows what it is, he just needs to hear her say it.

So she does.

“I’m in love with him, Alfie.”

If the confession of her disloyalty wasn’t enough to tear her apart, the choked back sob she heard from Alfie undeniably did so.

She shuts her eyes, pained, unable to take it.

He doesn’t deserve this, but she’s left with no choice. She’ll only hurt him more if she stays.

So she doesn’t.

-

The morning after.

Harry didn’t know what was to come after he confessed his love to Y/n — whether it be a new day of a new life away from her, or the beginning of something so beautifully timeless, he had no idea.

The closure warmed him enough to lull him to sleep, to keep him deep in a dreamstate where all he envisioned was sunny days and the touch of her hand in his. He had never felt so light, so free, so liberated from the cage of guilt and unspoken truths that even if he were to never see or hear from Y/n again, it would have been okay.

He said what he needed to say, she heard what she wanted to hear and that’s all he could have done without interfering with her relationship.

But what he wakes up to is far from anything that ever crossed his mind.

Seven missed calls and five text messages. All from Y/n.

H, please tell me you’re awake. I need you.

I ended it with Alfie.

I don’t have anywhere to go and you’re the only person I want to see right now. Can you meet me at the coffee shop? I really need to talk to you.

Please wake up.

H?

Harry sits himself up in a state of panic, his eyes jumping between the time she had messaged him last and the time it is now. And he springs himself out of bed when he realizes that he hasn’t missed out on her yet, planning to get to her as fast as he can as he throws yesterday’s outfit, not at all caring about how it makes him look.

She ended it with Alfie.

He’s the only person she wants to see right now.

She needs him.

That’s all he can process as he scurries down the street, thinking of everything he has left to tell her to try and win her heart again. He knows he’s undeserving of it, and she does too, but that doesn’t stop him from loving her the way that he does.

His life is meaningless without her, so dry and bleak and depressing he can’t live another day like it. He can’t and he won’t because he’s going to fix this. He has to fix this.

And it doesn’t take him long to find her because there she is, sitting at their usual outdoor table, a large hot tea held between her hands, her leg shaking, her eyes distant. It's such a heartbreaking sight, and he suddenly wonders if she ever sat there after their breakup, waiting for him, hoping he’d do the very same.

The thought makes his head twitch to the side and fingers twist with guilt because no, he never did. He never went back to that coffee shop since the goodbye. It would have hurt too much, it would have reminded him of everything he’d ever done wrong and he couldn’t bear to face the person he once made of himself.

That person died along with her.

She stands from her seat when she sees him walking toward her, exhausted mentally and physically enough to nearly fall from her feet in the process. But her heart is racing a million miles an hour, her stomach fluttering as he grows nearer, her senses of anything but the love she has for him disappearing to nothing, as if it were just the two of them.

And she just needs to know if it feels that way for him, too.

“Y/n —”

“Did you mean it?”

Harry hesitates then, stopping in his tracks, his head tilting at her in curiosity but his features are softer, sadder, as if the question somehow broke him down further than before.

She doesn’t need to elaborate because he already understands what she’s asking. It was his mistakes and his selfishness that led her to question all his intentions, to doubt every sentiment he’s ever given to her, to wonder what was real and what was pretend.

But he doesn’t know what to start with, he doesn’t know what she needs to hear from him to be satisfied with his answer, or know if what he doesn’t say is what breaks this relationship.

“I need you to look at me and tell me that you meant it.” Y/n demands when he fails to answer her, tears flooding yet her face pressed and hard, committed to hearing every last bit of truth he has left. “Because I gave up everything I had for just the smallest possibility that you did. And that may make me weak, that may make me pathetic, and I may hate myself for the rest of my life knowing I made that decision but I can’t help feeling the way I feel for you.”

This is his last chance.

The window of opportunity is open and he is more than willing to dive head first out of it, but he can’t get ahead of himself. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong anything and he will have to endure an eternity of misery without her.

So he gives her more than she demands.

He grabs her face between his two hands, gently stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his gaze set on hers so that she can see how deeply he feels for her and how desperate he is for her forgiveness.

“I meant it.” He breathes out, his lips so painfully close to hers, she can feel his breath as he talks and it makes her legs shake from beneath her. “I’m in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.” He leans in closer, ever so slightly, just so the ghost of her lips can meet the ghost of his. “There’s never been anybody but you. Just you. Only you.”

Her breath stammers, quivering and cracking as she flutters her eyes shut at his words, unforgiving tears pouring down her cheeks. And she doesn’t know why she’s reacting this way — the love of her life is giving her everything she’s ever asked for and yet all she can manage to do is break down from everything she’d been keeping inside for so long.

He knees buckle as a particularly violent sob nearly takes her down, and if it wasn’t for Harry’s strong hold on her, she’s sure she would have collapsed to the floor.

Her tears, his shirt, his hands, her back.

This is the closest they’ve been to each other in so long, his heart nearly shatters along with hers. He missed this more than he missed anything else in this world.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s alright. You’re alright.” Harry shushes her, his lips settling on the top of her head as he presses chaste kisses on it, his fingers combing through her unbrushed hair. “I’m with you, okay? I’m never leaving you again.”

And he holds her for a while, tying her together as she falls apart in his arms, vowing to her over and over again that this is all over. All the pain is over. Everything will be different now.

And it was.

It felt different when Y/n and Harry spent the rest of the morning sitting in their favorite coffee shop, at their favorite table, drinking their favorite lattes. It felt different when Harry reached his hand over to hold hers, this time with no ulterior motive.

It felt different when she held his hand back, and when she smiled down at where they were intertwined, as if they were an extension of each other.

And unlike the last time they were there together, he doesn’t have to let go.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car

© mine.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Bucky is kidnapped by Hydra to reactivate the Winter Soldier.

word count: 2.924 words. it worth it, i promise!!!

warnings/tags: none. angst as hell mostly. but it has a happy ending.

author notes: i don't speak russian, but i haven't used google translate either, so no worries. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list NEW!!! here.

No. It couldn't be possible. It had to be part of a terrible nightmare. Bucky couldn't have been kidnapped by Hydra again.

You didn't know what to expect in the ship flying to the secret location of the organization. For Stark, it didn't take more than a couple of minutes to track the arm down, since Shuri put a small monitor on it when the soldier stayed in Wakanda. She never told it, wanting to use it in some kind of circumstance like the one you all were going through now. And you couldn't be more grateful, but it didn't help to make you feel better.

You were sitting close to the back hatch. Back rested against the metallic wall and legs curled to your chest. Nothing inside your head more than the hallucination of a pair of blue eyes staring at you. Blaming yourself was something you couldn't avoid. You should have been with him, by his side, protecting him as many times you promised him. But in fact, you just failed him. You failed his trust, his love. You let them take him. Only God knew which torture Hydra was putting him under, while you were there, lamenting.

You didn't even notice Steve's presence squatting next to you until he placed a hand on your shoulder. Then, you raised your face towards him. He was suffering too. In the end, Bucky was his long-life friend, his big brother. He lost him once and felt like he was going to lose him twice. Although this time was different. You were carrying the dispositive that could put to sleep back the winter soldier, but, at what cost?

“Buck got you now. Everything is gonn—”. He spoke in plural, referring to your last night's talk.

“How could you be so calm, Steve? How do you do it?” You whispered through your trembling lips, about to break in crying.

“Because he needs us focused, not distracted”.

He was wise. Captain America was wiser than anyone in that ship. He curled the left corner of his lips up, trying to make you feel good, trying to transmit you the encouragement you needed to not give up. And he did, more or less. You had to fight harder than ever. For Bucky, and only for Bucky. That's why you didn't hesitate on jumping out from the ship when it landed on the cold hard ground, as the freezing weather hit you on the face.

Following the plan, you ran quietly to the back door hidden under a huge layer of snow. Shaking part of it with the palm of your hand, you placed the device with technology from Wakanda on the locker. Not later than fifteen seconds, it deciphered the code to open the hatch. Once in position, the Avengers followed you downstairs. The passage was empty and silent. The only sound that broke it was a couple of rats running away from your presence. You all had studied the plans of the building, mostly underground, remembering exactly where you had to go.

The coast was clear, that was the reason why you all were so confused. You were expecting to find more than a dozen of agents, but when T'Challa enunciated through your earwigs that he only located two heat spots, you couldn't believe it. How only one man kidnapped the most fearless assassin up to now? Tortuous and bitter screams dragged you back to reality, causing your brain to react to make your legs run faster than ever in your whole damn life. You knew by heart that voice beneath all the pain.

Your skin bristled when your gaze landed on that chair of horrors, connected to an enormous power source. Bucky was sitting there against his want.

“... добросердечный… возвращение на родину… один…”

“STOP IT”. Steve yelled.

Huge mistake. You were aware of it when —yes— that man stopped reciting the Russian words to re-activate the Winter Soldier, but only enough time to push a red button near to him and close the heavy door in front of you. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. At the moment you glimpsed Steve’s shield sliding above the floor, straight to the inside of the room where Bucky was being tortured, you followed the same way. Never in your life, you were this fast. Like a lightning bolt, you snaked yourself under the small distance between the door and the ground before being closed. Now, it was you, that man and the soldier.

“You’re late…” He mocked with an awful American accent, under James crying out loud in pain. “грузовой ваг—”.

Your left hand moved quickly to unholster your gun and shoot him. One… Two… Three… Four bullets right to his head. The man fell dead before he couldn’t complete the command. You didn’t lose time, running to the controls to try to turn that machine off. But it was impossible. Even if you knew Tony could do it, there wasn’t signal inside those large and wide walls made of steel reinforced. You were in one of those abandoned soviet bunkers, that could save you from Armageddon. You were inhaling and exhaling so fast that your lungs never got really full, trying to focus, trying to shut every single noise around up. Trying to think of a plan b. But it was your heart who pushed you to act and not your brain. Grabbing Steve’s shield, you aimed for the energy source before tossing it like a damn frisbee.

That thing blew up, turning off any kind of light and dispositive around, as the sparks and the cables decorated your surroundings. Just like the fire that started to burn down a pile of boxes with different documents of Hydra. But that wasn't why you were impatient. Catching the shield when it came back to you, your legs moved immediately to Bucky, still stirring on his seat for a few seconds else. Then, he simply stopped shaking. Her eyes were wide opened. Reddened, in tears. His chest rose and fell violently. His heart was racing. And you could see the trauma taking control over his body in holy silence.

You didn't doubt removing the protection from his mouth along the restraints keeping him on the chair. Your fingers trembled like never before, not having any more time to lose. Probably, the Avengers would be trying to open the door when the emergency red lights illuminated the bunker, producing a loud alarm sound to indicate that something was going wrong inside the facilities.

“C'mon, Buck… C'mon, we have to leave”. You told him, trying to help him to stand up.

But as soon as your hand was about to land on his arm of vibranium, the five cold digits got closed around your throat. Soon, the lack of air for you was more than evident. He got up on his own, not needing you to do it. The ocean blue in his eyes turned into a dark storm. There wasn't any gesture on his face, more than his jaw clenching, pressing his teeth together. That wasn't Bucky —your Bucky—, but the unstable trained assassin Hydra turned him in. You could barely gulp saliva, gripping his metallic wrist with both of your hands to try to stop him from murdering you.

He couldn't. He couldn't kill you. His strength was suffocating you with no mercy, though.

For a moment, you felt too weak to fight, seeing everything around you getting blurred and darker. Blacking out. But there was something inside you, a sweet tone of voice calling your name. A male voice. Your eyelids rolled down bit by bit, wanting to concentrate on that honeyed sound being closer and closer.

“любить”.

The sore whisper left your lips. Love. The first time Bucky told you about love came to your mind. He told you about his family. George, Winnifred, Rebecca. He told you how much he desired to have a family of his own. To be loved.

“новый”.

Your almost dead fingers traced the form of his new arm made in Wakanda when you felt him lifting you from the floor, being suspended on air.

“сороковых годов”.

Trying to keep a firm tone of voice as much as the pressure let you, the Russian words were spat to the confused soldier, who wasn't understanding what you were doing. The forties changed his life. He was sent to war and, lately, captured by HYDRA. It was something he'd never forget, part of his DNA.

“заката”.

You didn't know what the hell your subconscious was doing either till that precise instant. You were reprogramming him. You were using his own memories to reset his wiped brain from them. Dusk. The first night he spent in Wakanda, Bucky was terrified. But you stayed with him. You comforted him by saying that everything was going to be okay, that his life would be different. That he was safe. That he was at home.

“лето”.

His last night of summer in that kingdom, Bucky took you to his favorite place between the woods, wanting to show you the fireflies fluttering in the middle of the gloom. He used to walk there whenever he woke up from a nightmare. Those small insects used to make him feel better for some reason he didn't comprehend. Until he saw their light reflecting on your amazed orbs. Bucky knew then he was in love with you. Besides his long-life friend, the only person who never judged him, who never ran away from him. The same person that now was dying under his fingers.

“шесть”

Six years took him to be Bucky, after his last war, after the last effort, after the last jump. He was a new man. You made him a new man. A good one. You guided him through the right way. You helped him to get used to the twenty-one century. You accompanied him to therapy and stayed in the waiting room every single session until he finished.

“заткнуться”.

The soldier ordered you to shut up, earning quite the opposite when you knew it was sorting some kind of effect on him, as soon as you felt some relief by the grip loosening around your throat and your tiptoes touching the ground. Little by little, you opened your eyes again, gluing them on the blue ones fixed on you.

“боец”.

He wasn't a super soldier, he was a fighter. He spent the last six years of his life fighting for it, fighting for ruling his existence, fighting for being pardoned for crimes he didn't want to commit, fighting for your love. Bucky furrowed swallowing, allowing you to place your feet on the floor.

“Бруклин”.

And when he demonstrated to the world that he was no longer the Winter Soldier, but James Bucky Barnes, he moved to his birthplace. Brooklyn. You and he rented an apartment together when you both learned that you couldn't live apart. That you were made for each other.

“Отец…”

A tear ran down your cheek, slowly moving your left hand to his free one. A shiver toured his backbone when he felt your warm touch holding his hand and, even if his cold fingers were still around your throat, the soldier bowed his head to follow the connection between the two of you. His flesh hand landed on your stomach, pressing it under yours, trying to transmit to him the news about your pregnancy status. Bucky was going to be a father. You were going to build a family as he always wished.

“Свобода”.

As the sob escaped your soul, his hand made of vibranium released your neck. Freedom was what he got after all those years.

Bucky was free.

His hold was the only thing that kept you on your feet, pining to the cold hard ground, as well as you trying to fill your lungs with the heavy air around you because of the dense smoke coming from the flames burning down that damn place. You watched Bucky picking the shield close to you, probably believing it could be easier to kill you with it than with his own hands. Your arms automatically wrapped your abdomen, as if you could protect your unborn child from that horror, crying James' name to remember you.

“James… James…”

You weren't able to stop whining, feeling a heavy sorrow under your chest, covering your vitals organs. The noisy sound from the bunker was suddenly turned into a constant beep, beep, beep that caused you to frown yet keeping your eyes closed. You called him once and again until a warm hand laced his fingers with you. Peace invaded you eventually, after a fond squeeze around your skin followed by a pair of rough lips pressed on your forehead. You let yourself go, not finding any strength inside your heart to continue awake.

The next time you opened your eyes, you needed a moment to adjust your gaze to the sunlight. Purring feeling more comfortable than before, you rolled on your stomach, sinking your nose into the large pillow. Bucky's scent was like a punch of reality. Your eyes snapped open as your pulse increased, starting to panic. Sitting up, your orbs moved quickly all around the room you recognized instantly. It was your dorm in the Compound, the one you used to share with your boyfriend —and the father of your child. It was empty. No trace of James anywhere. You tossed away the oxygen mask and the sheets covering your stiff anatomy, getting up from the bed. Another huge mistake.

Everything spun around you, feeling strong dizziness hitting your head, having to sit down for a second. But as soon as you felt recovered, you stood up again walking straight to the main door to step out. The hallway was deserted, hearing some voices coming from the meeting room. You followed them slowly, finding balance with your palm against the walls. Sam was the first one noticing your presence, coming faster to help you.

“James… James…” You mumbled, not really sure about when you started to sob again, whilst your muscles got tense with every syllable.

“He's okay, he's okay, take it easy, girl”. He tried to calm you as Steve reached you to bring you to the closest chair.

“We don't know what you did… but even if that man introduced the commands again… you turned it off”. Natasha spoke this time.

“I re— I repro— reprogramed him”.

The confusion was more than evident between the Avengers present in the room. But no one of them had the need to ask how. The spy taught you Russian in your free time, you weren't a fluent speaker, but it was enough to have a chat. Even so, you weren't going to say the words you used. You weren't going to make Bucky go through another wipe. If they worked, you'd make sure that he'd hear them when the occasion required it.

“I wan— wanna see him… please”. You cried covering your face with both hands, desolated after the hell of the situation you had to live.

“He's resting”. Steve informed you, squatting close and placing a hand on your right thigh to gently caress it. “And you should do the same. For your baby”.

“There's no way you're gonna stop me from seeing him”. You replied, raising your head and looking at him through your eyelids. Silently pleading.

He snorted, convinced that you wouldn't change your mind. Nodding two times with his head, he stood up and offered you a hand to hold it and help you to walk. Steve guided you through upstairs, following your pace step by step —he could have carried you onto his arms, but he wasn't sure if he could hurt you accidentally. You were too weak, barely breathing properly because of all the smoke you swollen inside the bunker. Although you started to feel somewhat erratic and excited as you were coming to Bucky's old dorm.

Steve opened the door for you, letting you walk inside before closing it behind your back. Your boyfriend was peacefully sleeping under the sheets. There were some scars on his face, already healed but yet seeming painful. The only explanation you found to be there was that Bucky used the shield to open the door and take you out of the bunker. A theory that made more sense when you noticed that he hadn't his prosthesis and his shoulder was covered by a thin black microfiber.

You headed to the bed, tucking in to wrap his warm and heavy body between your arms. At the moment he felt you, he embraced you as better as he could, not opening his eyes but shedding a tear. His lips started to tremble as you pecked them, previous to hiding his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry…” Bucky sobbed, causing your whole anatomy to shudder because of the sorrow in his voice.

“We're gonna be okay, my love… You, me, our baby… Our family”.

His crying increased after those two words, caressing his back slowly to comfort him somehow. You knew that this recovery would be hard and painful, being conscious of how close he had been to end with your life. He didn't want to do it, nobody could deny it. You were everything he had, everything he always wished for deep inside his soul and heart. And the acknowledgment of having a baby with you only provoked him to feel guiltier.

But as you said so, everything was going to be okay.

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[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Emergency Visits (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.5k+

Warning(s): SMUT! Oral (Reader recieving), fingering, penetration, fluff!!! (Cringe warning too)

A/N: HONESTLY, idk why i had the courage to write smut but I did. THE ORIGINAL ONE-SHOT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAVE SMUT LMFAO also yall know I am a sucker for crossovers SOOO the timelime for TFATWS is off in this because Frank Castle is in here and I wrote most of this before episode 5 <3 

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Zemo need a place to lay low in while in the States and you're their most trusted person they know. What was not predicted was your vigilante friend needing medical help that same night. 

--------------------------------------------

You were a former Avenger. You were highly trained in combat but your purpose was to help any wounded comrade or citizen when you and the team were called in. The fighting days were pretty much over for you after the last battle with Thanos. You still used your medical knowledge to work at the different hospitals in New York City and helped Matt Murdock or Frank Castle with any wounds. Rarely you'd help with some vigilante work, but you rather sit out and keep to a less violent life.

You were mindless watching whatever Netflix suggested to you on a breezy night in your humble apartment in New York. It has been a rather boring few nights for you compared to more hectic ones, given your vigilante friends weren't getting as hurt as usual and didn't need discreet medical care.

Your cellphone ringing next to you snapped your attention away from your binging of a John Mulaney  stand up show (good choice Netflix). You looked at the caller idea and swore your heart fluttered ever so slightly.

James Buchanan Barnes was calling.

You had spent many months in Wakanda with him as Shuri worked tirelessly to get rid of Hydras grasp on his mind. Your main focus was learning new information on medicine but you always made sure to visit Bucky. You both got pretty close... Light touches, lingering hugs, and often staring at each other when the other wasn't looking became a commonality. It was obvious feelings of love were blossoming for you, but you weren't fully sure if he felt the same.

After the battle you both stayed in contact, but he decided to reside in D.C. while you laid roots back in the familiarity of New York. You both made sure to visit each when possible, but it had been about a month and a half since you last saw him.

"Hey, Buck." You smiled, answering his call. "It's been a few days, usually you make sure to call every other night. Are you okay?"

"I..." You heard him sigh, making you sit up straight.  "I need a favor, doll."

"Of course, you know I would do practically anything for you."

"That applies to me too right?" You heard Sam in the background, making you chuckle.

"Yes, it does Sam. How are you?"

"I've been better, these past few days have been rough but I'll let Stare-a-tron explain it to you." You heard a wack and an 'ow' come from Sam.

"So..." Bucky started but didn't continue.

"So...?"

"So, have you paid any attention to the news regarding Munich?"

"I have now connected the dots."

"What?"

"You broke a certain terrorist out of jail didn't you, James." You groan. When you saw the news about Zemo you couldn't possibly connect it to Buck and Sam, but with this call and a need of a favor instantly made you realize.

"Technically, (Y/N), he broke himself out."

"Do I need to slap some sense into you? He killed King  T'Chaka. He broke up the Avengers--"

"I know, I know." You heard him sigh. You listened in closer and heard some background traffic noise that sounded like the streets of New York. "Listen, we need a place to lay low for a bit in the States and your the only person I can one-hundred percent trust. I can't tell you more on the phone but please-"

"Yes, yes of course Buck. You guys, well minus Zemo, are welcomed here for whatever reason. Do you need me to text you the address?"

"Nah, we are actually about to enter your apartment building."

"Well hurry up so we can decide on take out." You chuckled and hung up the phone. You only had to wait a few minutes before you heard knocking at your door. Wasting no time you opened the door as fast as you can and practically tackle Bucky into a hug.

He chuckled gently, "I missed you too, doll."

You released him from your hold and grinned as Sam. "Come here Sam, I haven't seen you in a few months." You pulled him into a less dramatic but friendly hug.

"Good to see you too, (Y/N)." Sam and Buck made their way into the apartment leaving you faced to face with Zemo.

"Hello." You greeted, offering a differential handshake.

"Hello, (Y/N). I hope all is well." He accepted the short handshake and gave an equally differential smile before entering your apartment.

"Welcome to my humble abode, make yourselves at home here. I have two bedrooms so we better discuss sleeping arrangements-"

"Easy, I call dibs bunking with you while Wings and Zemo stay in your spare room." Bucky interrupted.

"Hold up, why can't you stay with creepy-magee? I'm sure you two would love to stare at each other." Sam argued.

"Because I called dibs, isn't that right Doll?"

"He did call dibs, Sam." You shrugged and laugh at his look of betrayal.

You heard Zemo start to speak but Sam beat him to it, "You don't get an opinion." Zemo simply put his hands up and surrendered while the other two kept arguing about the concept of dibs.

"Anyways I'll order some Chinese food and we can discuss why you three are here over dinner."

--------

Your mind was blown.

Bucky and Sam filled you in on Isaiah, the return of super soldiers, why they needed Zemo, and the issues they had with the New Captain America. You also almost chastised Bucky for missing his mandated therapy session but decided to keep eating your food and let him continue.

"Wow, that is fucking nuts. Super soldiers, huh?" You sigh. As much as you didn't want to, you had a feeling they would need your help with fighting. After all you fought along with the original Captain America, so you picked up ways to fight super soldiers.

"Yeah, after Madripoor we need to lay low. Hopefully no one spotted us." Sam said, starting to pick up his dishes. Everyone seemed to follow suit and you were about to speak again when you heard knocking at your door.

"Hey, can you take these  for me? I'll go answer the door." You slid your stuff towards Buck who looked at you worried.

"Do you want one of us to answer the door with you?"

"Nah I should be fine, it's probably Mrs. Espinoza looking for her sons cat." You waved him off, making your way to the door. You unlock your locks and crack open the door.

There stood Frank fucking Castle, covered in an obscene amount of blood while using  the wall for support.

"Hey..." He greeted with a hoarse voice and a weak attempt of a smile.

"Holy shit, Frank." You said barely above a whisper. "Fuck, can one you guys come here?!" You shouted, opening the door wider while taking one his arms over your shoulder.

"What the hell, (Y/N)?" Bucky looked at you and the blood soaked Punisher with bewilderment.

"I'll explain in a bit! Just help me take him to the couch. Sam go get my medical bag, it's in my closet in the room on the left! Zemo clear everyones stuff from the couch." You barked out orders while you and James carefully led Frank to the couch. When Zemo cleared it off and Sam came running out with your bag, you both laid him down on the couch.

With no hesitation you quickly wash your hands and prepare your equipment.

"Are you going to tell us what the hell is happening right now, (Y/N)?" Buck asked.

"I am also wondering why we have a beaten guy on your couch." Sam's face was full of worry.

You sigh and begin removing Franks clothes to look for any life threatening wounds. "This is the Punisher. If you haven't kept up with the more lower level news he is one of the vigilantes."

"That doesn't explain why he is here."

"I... I am friends with him and Daredevil. I patch them up so they can avoid the hospital." You see a bullet wound on his side, it was bad but it was manageable with an exit wound. "One of you hold him up so I can stitch his back."

Bucky immediately joined your side, using his enhanced strength to hold up Frank.

"You gonna introduce me to your friends here, (Y/N)?" Frank rasped. "I gotta know whose cold ass hand is touchin' me."

"I'll introduce you to them later, let me get you stable."

-----

After what felt like hours, you finished dressing a gash on his thigh. You peel of your bloodied gloves and get up from kneeling on the floor. You helped sit Frank up so he can get a good look at whose here.

"Frank, this is Sam Wilson and James Barnes. I worked and fought with them as an Avenger." You gesture to the two. You saw him eyeing Buck before giving you a knowing look. You both were friends after all, he knew of your feelings towards Bucky.

"Who's the guy in the pimp coat?" He grunted and gestured towards Zemo, who rolled his eyes.

"Baron Zemo. Escapee prisoner."

"Zemo? As in the guy who bombed the UN? Do you need me to-"

"No Frank, they need him alive." You chuckled.

"Well, it's good to put faces to names. Especially yours, James." Frank spoke, nudging you. "I'll get my spare clothes and rinse off the blood now, something tells me the guest room will be taken." You were going to protest but knew Frank was too stubborn to listen. The four of you watched him make his way to the guest room before closing the door.

"Oh so he knows about us but we don't know about him?" Sam arched a brow at you. Bucky stayed silent, clenching both his fists.

You sigh, "I am sorry for not telling you guys. I didn't keep my involvement with vigilantes away from you both on purpose, I promise."

"Can we trust the Punisher? Will everything be safe with all of us here?"

"You don't have to worry about me talking." Frank came out of the room in new clothes, using a damp towel to wipe his face. "(Y/N)'s stuck her neck out for me countless times. I owe it to her."

"If (Y/N) trusts you then we trust you."

"As much as I want to stay up, I think it is best we get some sleep. Tomorrow we can talk more." You stretch and yawn and everyone seemed to agree. Castle put a pillow on the couch and grabbed a spare blanket you had lying around.

"C'mon man you can have the bed. You look like you got the shit beaten out of you." Sam said.

"Nah it's fine. I'm a light sleeper. I can stay out here in case he," Castle pointed to Zemo, "tries somethin'."

"C'mon Buck, your rooming with me." You smile and grab his non-vibranium hand.

"I don't want to share a room with Zemo." Falcon groaned

"Bucky did call dibs after all."

You said goodnight to Sam, and gave Frank a quick hug goodnight before you and James went into your bedroom, a duffel bag in his hand.

James was feeling jealous. He didn't want to admit it but watching how friendly you were with Frank Castle made his feelings worse.  He could pick up the familiarity between the two of you and how easy you were able to talked to him. Frank was someone in your life Bucky didn't know existed.  How close were you to the Punisher?

Thoughts of you and Frank entered his head but he quickly tried to dismiss them. It made his chest ache just thinking about you and another man. Yeah, Buck was smitten with you. But the feelings of self-doubt and guilt always made it hard for him to confess. With the addition of Frank? Made it almost impossible.

"You can use the bathroom to change while I cahnge out here." Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He nodded silently, clenching his jaw, while entering the bathroom.

Your stare lingered at the door before you quickly put on a different set of comfortable clothes, discarding your previous clothes to the floor. You picked up on his sudden quietness and you hoped he wasnt truly mad at you. With a quiet sigh you slid under the blankets of your bed and waited for Bucky so you could get to bed. You and Bucky have shared the floor and bed before, and you were able to keep it together.

But after everything that has happened, after finally seeing him after almost two months, it made you feel nervous. You weren't sure if it was exhaustion or stress, but your feelings for Bucky suddenly felt overwhelming.

If that wasn't enough, you felt like your face was burning when he stepped out from the bathroom, wearing just his boxers and dogtags.

"I, uh, hope you don't mind. I found sleeping without a shirt easier to deal with nightmares. Helps cool me off."

"No, no. Don't worry at all Buck." You smile but it felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest. He smiled briefly before he turned out the lights, joining you in bed. You both laid on your sides, back facing back. You shut your eyes and try to focus on sleeping, but the image of shirtless, only in boxers James flooded your thoughts.

"Doll?" James voice cut through the silence.

"Y-yes, Buck?"

"Who... Who is Frank  to you?" He asked in a low, dejected tone. Your eyes snap open. What kind of question was that from him?

"What do you mean?" You roll to face him but his back was still towards you.

"Are you and Frank..." He paused, "just ignore it, nevermind."

"Bucky, face me." He didn't  respond. "Please, James." You heard him sigh but he complied, turning to face you. The subtle light from your window made it easier to see his handsome face in the dark. You gulped, trying to muster an ounce of courage to tell him these feelings you've held for him for years.

"Frank and I are strictly friends. Before he became the Punisher he had a wife and two kids who he loved dearly. They-they were killed in front of him. He loved his wife dearly and I don't think he is looking to start dating anytime soon." You sigh and things go silent for a moment.

You rested a hand on his cheek and scooch closer. "James, I... I really enjoy spending time with you. I enjoy your presence. After all that we have been through,  with getting the code words out your head to losing Steve... I want to be by your side no matter what." You felt tears prick your eyes.

"I feel the same way about you doll." James spoke, just above a whisper. "You help ground me and honestly you help keep me sane." His hand found its way above yours that was cupping his cheek. Gently he moved your hand to his lips. He placed a soft kiss to your knuckles before moving it over his heart. "I've felt this for a while and I never had much courage to say it before but... I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, James." You smile, a few happy tears managed to escape your eyes.

"C'mere." He helped move you close to him, pulling you into a deep hug. The chill of his vibranium arm caused goosebumps but the warmth of his other arm gave you comfort.

You wrap your arms around his bare torso and snuggled your face into his neck. God he smelt good. With a little courage coursing through you, you gave him a small kiss on the neck before giving him a little love bite, nothing that would bruise.

Bucky chuckled moving a part from you, just enough to get a full look at your face. Without saying anything he leaned in, his eyes hooded, placing his lips on yours. One of his hands found its way to your head while the other rested on your hip. You pushed your body closer to his, while gently dragging your nails across his back.

"Mm Doll." He mumbled against your lips. "I... I want to continue this with you if that's alright with you."

"Yes, Bucky." And in an instant after giving him the word, he maneuvered you onto your back while he hovered on top of you, his dogtags dangling down. He removed them from his body.

"Don't want those hitting your pretty face." He smiled and leaned in to kiss you once again, this time him slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His warm hand rested on your neck before he slowly dragged it down your chest and to the hem of your shirt. He messed with it a little, teasing to go underneath.  You whine a bit and arch your back as he kept messing with it.

"May I?" You simply nod in response. He pushed himself away from you and took the hem of your shirt, helping you remove it. The cold air hitting your now exposed chest made you shiver. "No bra? Naughty." He smirked.

"I'm not the one who came out only his his boxers."

"Touché." He tossed your shirt onto the ground and soaked in the view below him. The perfect lighting leaking through the blinds illuminated everything in just the right way. James licked his lips, "You are gorgeous, doll."

"You're pretty handsome yourself." You smile, which made him smile.

"Let me treat you like a goddess. Let me repay the favor." Without another word James attacked your neck with his mouth, nipping and sucking on the area. He continued leaving love marks from your neck down to your chest slowly. The sensation made you moan as tingles went through your body. You felt yourself getting wetter as he continued to leave hickies on your chest.

Bucky used his non-vibranium hand to cup your right breast, kneading it gently. Maintaining eye contact with you his leans his head down to your free breast before giving your raised nipple a quick lick. The feel made your body shake ever so slightly, making him smirk at the reaction. He did it again, although this time slower before latching on, using his tongue to swipe over the sensitive bump.

"Bucky-" You gasped. You felt heat slowly build in your core, not enough to have you screaming, but enough to feel pleasurable. "That feels so good." He continued giving your tender breasts and nipples attention, slowly building you up.

"Lets get these pajama shorts off." He sat up again, moving himself lower on the bed. He gripped the waistband of your shorts and began slowly removing them while you lifted your legs to help. Discarding them like your shirt, he tosses those articles of clothing to the floor. You were left with just your panties

His hands take your knees and help spread your legs farther a part, soaking in the view of your body spread out. His mouth found its place on your in thigh. He left small kissed, sometimes little bites, and he dragged his mouth closer and closer to your wet pussy. "I want to taste you doll, is that alright?"

"Y-yes Bucky, please." You begged, adjusting your hips ever so slightly. "I want to feel you more."

"As you wish." He smirked. Before he removes your panties he places soft kissed over the fabric covering your pussy. You stifle a moan, as he continued to tease you against the fabric. When he was done, he remove your underwear with ease.

"You are stunning, absolutely stunning." His hand found its way to your slit. He gently  brushed his fingers over your sensitive skin, making your body twitch ever so slightly. "You're so wet for me, already." His tongue slowly and softly dragged around your vagina and clit, the teasing is back on.

"A-Ah!" You quietly moaned, trying to keel your voice down. You moan again when you felt one metal finger enter slowly while his mouth latched to your clit. One of your hands reached down to grip his hair as he began to finger and play with your clitoris.

The pleasure had your curling your toes. You had to bite your lip to hold back from moaning loudly. You didn't feel like waking up the others.

Another finger entered as he started to speed up his motions, his tongue and mouth still on your clitoris.

"That feels so good." You said with an airy tone as he continued to work.

"You taste divine." His breath against your sensitive skin made you your thighs clamp around his head. The pleasure was building up and you felt like your were close to cumming.

"J-James, - oh god!" You kept your voice down but the work he is doing to your clit made it hard to stay quiet. "Fuck-"

James give your clit one last lick before sitting, removing his fingers in the process. He then licked his fingers clean as he stared down at your panting body. He could feel his cock wanting to be free from his boxers so he removed them, letting his large erection out. He watched you squirm as you awaited for his touch again.

"Do you want my dick inside you, doll?"

"Ye-yes please." You begged, wiggling your hips for him. "Please!"

"God your so hot." He leaned back over you, placing a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips. Lining himself up to your entrance he looked to you. "Ready?"

"Yes!" He smiled, and slowly slide his cock inside you. You gasp as you feel him stretch you out, tears stinging your eyes. He stopped once he was fully in, letting you have a moment to get adjusted. "I don't know how I'll keep my voice down."

"Bury your face into my neck, I want to hear you moan my name."

You did what he suggested, you wrapped your arms around his torso while he used his vibranium arm to stay stable and his other arm around your head to keep himself close to you. His body was completely on top of yours.

"You can move now."

James slowly moved his hips away, almost entirely removing his cock from you except the tip before thrusting back in. Your moan was successful smothered by his body. He continued thrust himself inside your pussy, the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.

"O-Oh James- yesyesyes," You mewl. "You feel so good." You heard him let out a husky groan in your ear.

"I love it when you say my name, (Y/N)." He whispered in your ear as he kept his pace. You continue to moan out his name, gripping him tight as his thrust got faster. "Fuck, your so tight."

"Shit- faster!" You begged and he obliged. "You're so good to me Bucky. You-you're perfect." You could feel his thrust starting to gst sloppy as you felt waves of pleasure course through your body.

"Baby you make me crazy." He moaned. You could feel his hand make its way down to your clit, and your body arches against his as he pressed down on the sensitive bud. He practically started pounding your pussy as he moaned in your ear.

"James I'm gonna- I'm so close!" You cry out as the the feeling kept building.

"Do it, cum for me."

It was like everything in your body started shake as the pressure finally snaps in your core. You bury your face into his chest and moan his name as blinding, white hot pleasure filled your being. Your walls tighten around his cock  and you feel him start to tense.

His thrusts became harder before he finally released his thick cum inside of you before collapse onto of you, panting. Both of you were sweaty and breathing hard, but neither of you moved. The feeling of his cock inside you, twitching, was extremely hot.

"You're amazing, (Y/N)." He grinned, making you smiled.

"You're the best damn thing in my life, James."

---------

You woke up naked the next morning, curled up to an equally naked, sleeping Bucky. You smiled, remembering last nights confession and everything after that. You watch him sleep for a moment before deciding to slip out of bed to make everyone breakfast. You throw on the pajamas you wore before hand and quietly leave the room.

You close the door as quietly as and turned around, only to see Frank sitting at the table reading a magazine you had lying around.

"Oh good morning Frank." You smiled and walked past him, hoping he wouldn't notice anything. "I'm gonna make some breakfast for everyone."

"Morning, (Y/N)." He grunted. "Sleep well?"

You almost choked on air, "Yes, I did. How about you?"

"Oh you know, the couch is alright but I am a light sleeper remember? I kept hearing weird noises through the night. " Your face felt on fire as you turned to face him. He wore a smug smirk on his face. "Got something on your neck there."

You rush to grab your phone and look in the camera. Low and behold, hickies were left on your neck. "Shit."

Frank snorted, "So you finally got with your crush, huh?"

"Oh shut it you grump."

"I'm just teasing you. You know I'm happy for you, (Y/N)."

"Thanks, Frank."

Frank decided to help you with breakfast, taking on making bacon and sausage while you attended to making pancakes. And sure enough the rest of the people in the apartment came out.

"They're gonna see them. "

"I know, I am bracing myself for Sam's teasing." You sigh. You go and place the plate  pancakes you made on the table while Frank placed the bacon and sausage he made.

"G'morning, doll. I missed ya in the morning." Bucky approached you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I wanted you to wake up to some breakfast." You grinned and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Did you finally confess your feelings?" You heard Sam. "I gotta get ahold of Tic Tac and Clint they owe- what the hell is on your neck (Y/N), is that what I think it is?" He groaned and sat at the table, everyone taking their spots.

"Hickies are messages on the body that can show ones presence on another-" Zemo spoke but was cut off by Sam.

"I do not want to know, Zemo. Lets just eat."

Breakfast was great. You were surprised Frank got along with the others, though it did take some talking to by Sam to break him out of his shell. You also could have sworn Buck and Frank had a stare down at one point but were both laughing and smiling.

You take hold of Bucks hand that was on the table and give it a light squeeze, smiling at him while he smiled back. Life was pleasant even after these emergency visits.

[ragingbookdragon]

The Start of Something Great

Outlaws x Tamaranean!Reader

Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence and Past Abuse

Author's Note: So this is technically the start of all those One-Shots with the T!Reader. In order, they are the one you're reading right now, then this one, this one, and this one. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She watched the group socialize from her position in the corner; she’d never been out and open like Kori was. She’d always preferred to watch in silence, to observe…the years she spent captive, formed her mindset of watching and waiting for moments of weakness. Speaking of Kori, she watched her step into the room with Dick; their hands tightly clasped together.

Fighting a laugh, she glanced out the window, turning her attention to the waves as they crashed against the rocks below the tower. She wondered why she was here. She wasn’t a part of the Titans…not really. Her animosity towards leniency on justice put her at odds with just about everyone within the group, and especially the Justice League. Well, except for Diana; the Amazon was the only one who truly understood her reasoning.

But as for letting criminals go free? It didn’t happen. Rarely ever, did (Y/N) allow a criminal to walk away from her, and her mind drifted to the memory of her first mission with the Titans.

***

She stepped out of the smoldering hole in the warehouse wall and strode to the criminal crawling from her. Placing her foot square between his pelvis and spine, she stepped down with all her strength and listened to his spine crack under the strain. He let out a bloodcurdling scream and she rolled him over with her foot, glaring down at him, watching as he begged.

“Please!”

A white hot star-bolt formed in her hand and she raised it, speaking coldly. “The women you assaulted and killed did not want to die either.”

The man began to cry as she flung the bolt, watching his body incinerate, and turn to ash; she turned and began walking away, ignoring the concerned look from her sister, and the angry looks from her teammates.

They hadn’t even gotten five feet into the tower when Dick was on her like a beast to a fresh kill. “What the hell was that, (Y/N)?”

She glowered, warning him darkly, “Watch how you speak to me, Richard. I am not Kori. And you should believe me when I tell you that what I feel for you is nothing short of loathing. And loathing is quick to turn deadly should I be pushed.” (Y/N) turned to leave when he moved in front of her again.

“It doesn’t matter what you feel! You owe us an explanation!” He shot back.

She barked a cold laugh. “I owe you nothing, least of all an explanation.”

“You murdered him!”

(Y/N) narrowed her gaze. “And the point you are trying to make is?”

Dick threw his hands into the air. “It was wrong!”

“Was what he did to those innocent women also wrong?” she countered and he all but recoiled.

“Of course! But that doesn’t—”

“But nothing. He was a despicable criminal, and he deserved to die for his crimes.” (Y/N) turned around and began walking to the door.

“We aren’t executioners, Kiyahnd’r.” Dick admonished.

She froze in her spot and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes frosty towards them. “Perhaps not you, Richard. But you were not raped and beaten repeatedly as a young child.” Her gaze narrowed. “My justice is absolute in the face people who do the same thing that was done to me and my sisters. Never forget that.”

***

(Y/N) blinked, dragging herself from the memory; it hadn’t been long after that, that she found herself tangled in combat with the Justice League. Apparently, she had held out against them far longer than anyone ever had, managing to overpower The Flash and Martian Manhunter. She had almost defeated Batman when Wonder Woman and Superman intervened, subduing her. That was a fun day for (Y/N), and she remembered how Batman had made her concede killing people…mostly anyway.

The years had been decent to her and she came to terms with her life, even branching out into modeling like Kori did. They ruled the runways. But the “lone wolf” style she’d developed while in captivity still ruled her, and she found it increasingly hard to keep continuing the team. They had all gathered in the room, and she rose from her seat.

Immediately, the talking stopped as everyone turned to stare at her; Dick smiled at her from his seat, Kori perched herself across his thighs. “You alright, (Y/N)?” She met his eyes before moving to the table and setting down a small metal piece. It clinked and their eyes moved to it, as Dick questioned, “What’s that?”

“You know what it is, Richard.”

He glanced over, looking at the item, and took in the realization of what it was. “Your key to the tower?”

(Y/N) nodded. “As of now, I formally relinquish my role as a Titan.” Ignoring the shocked gasps and stares, she continued. “I will be leaving at dusk.” (Y/N) made her way to the door. “Thank you…and goodbye.” She didn’t wait for their replies, moving to her bedroom.

She closed the door and sat beside the window, occasionally glancing at her packed bag. (Y/N) had money saved up over the years, from odd jobs to her professional modeling career worldwide and she still had big money rolling into her bank account from other various sources. She would be alright; she just needed to find a place to live on her own and thrive.

A knock tore her from her thoughts, and she turned to the door. “Enter.” In walked Kori and Dick, and she sighed knowingly. “Delivering the parting words?”

“Kiyahnd’r…are you sure you want to leave?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Very.”

They sat down on her bed, a couple feet away, and Dick leaned forward. “You don’t have to leave, (Y/N).”

“I am aware,” she noted. “but this is something that I want to do.”

“Why Kiyahnd’r?”

(Y/N)’s eyes flitted to Kori. “Because this is not where I belong.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N). You—”

She raised a hand. “Do not try and cushion the blow, Richard.” She rose and stared out the window. “It has been plain to see all these years that you all will never trust me.” (Y/N) glanced at Dick. “Or accept me onto your team.”

Dick went silent, and Kori nudged him. “Say something.”

“What do you want me to say? She’s kinda right.”

“Dick!”

(Y/N) stopped Kori. “Do not be angry at him, Koriand’r. Richard is right.” She paused. “I am not you Koriand’r…I allow my past to define how I live my life.” Her eyes moved to her sister’s, and a hint of sorrow crossed her tone. “I cannot let go of our pasts. It will haunt me forever, and I need to find my own path…away from this place.”

The two of them went silent, then Dick said, “If you don’t have anywhere to go…Jason’s been in need of a partner lately.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “That moronic imbecile? Certainly not.”

Dick snickered as Kori sighed. “Jason is not stupid, sister.”

“Truly? There have been a few times where he has fooled me.”

Kori sighed again, as Dick rose from the bed, moving to (Y/N). “Look…I know you think I don’t like you—”

“You do not like me.”

Dick rolled his eyes and corrected, “Wrong, Miss Know-It-All. I happen to like you very much. In fact—”

(Y/N) cut him off, turning to Kori. “Be cautious sister, you apparently have competition for Richard’s affections.” Kori and (Y/N) giggled as Dick raised his hands in exasperation.

He marched to the door with them still raised. “I give up! I came in here to wish you goodbye and good luck, and this is what I receive!” He was almost out the door when (Y/N) pulled him back, spinning him around to pull him in for a brief but heartfelt hug.

She pulled away and glanced at him. “For all you have done for me…and for all the times you have tried to help me…thank you, Richard.”

He grinned up at her and squeezed her round her middle. “See…you love me after all.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and picked up her bags. “Do not push it Dick. You still anger me.”

“You aren’t the first person to tell me that.” Dick shrugged.

She snorted and moved to the door, stopping and glancing at them. “And I most certainly will not be the last.”

***

The flight to Gotham City was quiet, and she remembered the first time she arrived.

***

The portal opened and she fell through it, still fighting off the Psions who followed her. They crash-landed into a building, and the rubble was lit up like the sun as she threw star-bolts at them. The fighting lasted for a few minutes, and in the end, she stood victorious among the scattered body parts. Her mind raced as she tried to remember where her sister had gone, and the next thing she realized, a Psion was on her back.

She cursed in her native tongue as it clawed at her, and gathered energy into her palm to kill it when it flew off her, landing a good distance away. She rolled to her side and coughed; a hand appeared in her vision, and she looked up to see a man in black standing over her.

His lips moved, and she knew words were coming out, but it sounded like gibberish. The hand extended towards her more, and she took it, allowing him to help her stand. He kept speaking and she rolled her eyes, reaching out and grabbing his face; she brought their lips together, and words and languages flowed through her mind.

She released him and he simply gaped at her, too stunned to move; she snorted. “Apologies. My race learns by psychophysically connecting with one another. The most effective way is through oral contact.”

“…You just learned to speak English from kissing me?”

She nodded. “Is that what you call it? English? What a strange name it is.” The corner of his mouth rose, and she stood up straight. “I am Kiyahnd’r of…well…it does not matter.” She paused. “My name is Kiyahnd’r.”

He nodded. “I’m Batman.”

***

(Y/N) felt the corners of her mouth raise at the memory; it had been a very long time since she’d thought about it, and it reminded her of how lucky she’d been to learn the languages from Bruce. Kori only received a small amount from Dick; (Y/N) had received twenty-three different dialects, all fluently. The fleeting memories lasted only so long, and the plane began to ascend, signaling her arrival.

She stepped off of the plane and made her way to the baggage claim, picking up her bag and moving to the doors when she saw a familiar man. (Y/N) stared as he walked towards her.

He stopped in front of her and smirked. “Need a ride, doll?”

She rolled her eyes. “Dick called you then.”

“Called a few hours ago saying you were leaving the Titans and coming to find me and Roy.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “I was coming to Gotham. I was not coming to see the both of you.” She glared at him.

“Sticks and stones, (Y/N).”

“Go crawl into a bush, Jason.”

His hand curled around the handle of her suitcase and he lifted it, nodding his head to the door. “Car’s outside.” Jason moved forward, and (Y/N) was left with no choice but to follow him. She watched as he put her suitcase in the trunk, then turned to her. “You hungry?”

“Are you going to cook?”

Jason paused as he was getting in the driver’s door; he looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “Do you want me to cook?”

She moved to sit in the passenger seat. “So long as you make something good.”

He grinned as he sat in the seat, starting the car. “I always make good food.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘hmpf’. “We shall see.”

***

The drive to his apartment was slow and when they arrived, the sun was setting low beyond the skyline. They climbed the stairs and entered his apartment; (Y/N) hummed. “I wasn’t sure that your apartment would be as tidy as it is. It is rather shocking.”

Jason grunted as he moved into the kitchen, pulling out pans from the cabinets. “Sorry doll, the role of messy Robin is Tim.” He paused and glanced at her. “And sometimes, Dick…but mostly Timmy.”

(Y/N) snorted and motioned to her bag. “Where should I put my things?”

Jason nodded down the hallway. “Second door on your right. I changed the sheets and cleaned it, so you should be happy.”

She said nothing and walked to the bedroom. It was a little dull for her tastes, but nothing she couldn’t fix with a trip to the department store and IKEA. She walked back out and sat at the bar, watching Jason cook for them. When he was finished, they sat out on the balcony sharing a bottle of wine.

(Y/N) swallowed it, gagging, “Earth wine is disgusting.”

“Wine’s a peculiar taste,” he snorted, taking a sip. “You have to get used to it.”

She grunted and replied, “I do not want to be used to it. It tastes like…I do not even know what it tastes like. All I know is that it is disgusting.”

“You’re just a Debbie-Downer, aren’t you, (Y/N)?”

“I do not know what that is but I can tell it is not positive.”

“Nevermind.” Jason chuckled and they lapsed into a comfortable silence, eating their dinner, and when they were finished, they climbed to the roof and watched the stars; Jason leaned over. “So, why did you leave the Titans?”

(Y/N) sighed quietly, murmuring, “I did not want to be within their company any longer.”

He eyed her. “And?”

“And I did not want to be ostracized anymore.” (Y/N) inhaled. “I am not Kori. She was accepted easily within the Titans because she is kind and sweet. But I? No…I was never one to be accepted. My attitude and stance on how I deal with criminals was not something the Titans were too keen on keeping.”

Jason listened silently, then tipped his head. “Dick told you to come find me then?”

She shrugged. “More or less.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “I assume he had an inkling that because we are so similar in our mindsets on criminals that we would get along and be able to work together.”

“Red Hood, Arsenal, and Supernova,” Jason grinned. “It’s got a great ring to it.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I regret this decision already.”

He scooted closer and slung an arm around her shoulders, ignoring the way she growled low in her throat. “Don’t be like that, doll…we’re gonna make a kick-ass team.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to retort when a light shone in the sky; she glanced at Jason, tipping her head to it. “Well…let us go and show what a team we will make.” She rose, holding out a hand. “Shall we, Red Hood?”

Jason glanced at her hand before taking it, smirking. “Hell yeah.”