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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

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♡ GENSHIN IMPACT + HOW LOVE FINDS THEM ♡

➳ ft. kaeya, diluc, zhongli, tartaglia

➳ tags ;; tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort, alcohol as a coping mechanism, a little angst but happy endings always, extreme kaeya bias ngl, spoilers for kaeyas story, nonsexual nudity, gn!reader

➳ a/n ;; first time writing for genshin so if the characterization is funky.. my fault

➳ summary ;; genshin impact characters and how i think love finds them when they find you

ZHONG-LI

Sometimes, he admits to himself, it feels forbidden to love you.

When love finds him, it is on the stairway of a small cottage, tucked into a corner of Liyue. It is quiet and unassuming, more importantly shared. A place you’ve decided to spend hefty mora on to live in.

There’s a backyard and a space for a garden and there are sweet flowers that always seem to regrow after you pick them. On the walls are weapons and hunting gear but in the drawers are spare clothes and change. It’s got two stories but it’s not big. It’s a home, still.

You’ve invited him inside, an adopted street-cat at your feet as you make dinner. Zhong-li is a working man, but he spends his days off here. You are an adventurer, strong with a big heart and bigger dreams. Your silhouette makes up all the shadows that dance on the wall and you sway to the beat of a soundless song. A smile makes the corners of your lips twitch up and you stir the pot of whatever you're making with boundless enthusiasm.

Zhong-li would not wish godliness on anyone. He thinks about it often. Where Rex Lapis ends and where the human, the mortal Zhong-li starts is a blurred line. Humanity is a grieving thing. People live and are happy and then they pass and it is the only thing someone can guarantee. You will be born into the world tearful but you will pass silently - like a wind.

Godliness means little is forbidden to you. Reality is something you fumble with in your clumsy hands and hope you can get right and humanity is a grieving thing. Always in that order. He knows there is no such thing as love that is truly forbidden - feelings like love and sadness and joy are things that cannot be settled by contracts or understood. They simply exist as if they are their own religion.

Zhong-li watches you pick up a white furred cat and let it’s nose rest against yours for a brief moment. You hug it and sing to it like it is a child and when you’re done, you let it fondly nudge against your legs.

“Stop being bad and let me cook dinner,” you’ll say, like it knows. And maybe it does - Zhong-li thinks to himself that it might. It prances off and sleeps in the basket you’ve bought, covered in blankets and linens. He stares at you for a long while, his eyes dancing down your silhouette.

There is something remarkably human about love. Perhaps love is the one thing gods cannot truly get their hands on. This greed, this loneliness, this tender feeling - so soft it might fall apart in his hands. In all of his years of living, he likes to believe he has known love. For his companions and for his people.

But this affection that soaks his bones, greedy and aching to be cared for, must be something only a human could get their hands on. He thinks he could only love you like this with his mortal body, his beating heart and dry mouth. With golden eyes that blink at you, curious to know what you’ll do or say next. If humanity is grieving, perhaps love is acceptance. Reconciliation. Maybe the reason no human complains about a short life is because they, at least once, have loved.

He thinks he understands it briefly. If redoing everything meant he couldn’t be with you, even once, he would keep it all the same. What a sentiment. He smiles at you as you dance and the sunlight hits the bare skin of your thighs, buried in the expanse of your skin. He longs to be so close to you too.

Remembering he can choose to be so close to you. That he can act upon this insatiable desire to be loved. It feels forbidden and unreachable.

But it isn’t.

He holds out his hand to you and you pause, tilting your head before taking it. He stands and wraps his arms around your waist and stares down at you with so much affection you falter. His lips press against the crown of your head. You’re warm and real.

When love finds him, it is just like this. Under the setting sun of Teyvat, harbored in his mortal body.

TARTAGLIA

You never wrap his wounds with care.

The process is rough and not very quick. It must be comfortable for you to put your hands on him because you never seem to show him any mercy. He’ll enter your quarters with something like a wince. A wound - red and bleeding in his shoulder. He’s got his blazer dragged down his biceps, an uneasiness on his face as he drops into the room. You’re clearly busy doing something, but that’s never stopped him before.

Wordlessly, he drops himself into the chair to the left of the little table in your room. He sits in it before dropping his head back, looking at you upside down. A frown etched into your features, eyes low and exasperated. You give him a look of discontent that he returns with a shit-eating grin. His heart stutters when you stand but he says it’s blood loss. You shut your book and place it on your bedside table.

Underneath your bed is the first aid kit, which you grab - swift like ocean waves. He scoots back until he’s facing you. You stare down at him for a long while, brow furrowing. He gives you a dizzying smile.

“You’re staring,” ― he proclaims, brunette hairs sticking to sweaty skin ― “Do you like the view?”

You ignore him. Instead, you place your first aid kit with a slam onto the table and rummage through it. Nimble fingers quickly take out clear vials of alcohol, bandages, a pair of small scissors and some creams of your own making. He thinks you’re brilliant and he wants to tell you as much but the words feel too unruly, too soft spoken from his mouth. He stares at you for a long while, his eyes so forlorn by your lack of attention that you speak.

It’s a sigh first like the wave of a white flag.

“Take your shirt off,”

“Take me for dinner first at least,”

You give him an unimpressed look.

He replies by sliding his shirt off his shoulders with a little grunt. Worry plasters itself all over your face and you don’t make any attempt to hide it. He watches as you walk towards the opposite end of the room - grabbing a towel and a bowl of water. You clean the wound by pressing on it, even though it seems like the blood has dried. It’s rough - you’re rough with him. A sharp inhale of air makes its way through his teeth.

You don’t apologize, nor do you want to. He watches as you clean the blood off and then inspect the wound for a long while. Afterwards, you mumble underneath your breath, speaking mostly to yourself than to him.

“No stitches needed.. that’s good,”

You sound so relieved his heart aches. There’s a brief moment of silence where neither of you know what to say and Tartaglia stares at you with soft eyes. There is always this longing feeling. A constancy to his need for your touch that brings him to his knees, weakens his resolve until he’s stumbling to your bedroom instead of going to see a doctor or a god. He needs you before he needs forgiveness or life. For him, loving you is an act one can only describe as selfish

He knows this because he still comes to you like this, body bruised and battered. When your worry filled eyes look over his skin, he feels like a second rain has come. Your concern is it’s own addiction, intoxicated by it. It is selfish to want you to worry, even more so to make sure of it.

But how else can he hold your love if not to make you look at it? How else can he know love if it’s not in the furrow of your brow or the way you push him so hard. When you get angry for him and at him. What is love if not a violence? If not teeth in the nape of his neck or your fingers on his bruises?

You rub alcohol in his wounds to clean them before taking your fingers and dipping them into a cream. It smells like mint, making his eyes water. You do this step with care, running your hands over fierce marks and scars with heartbreak written all over your eyes.

Love must be a violence. It must be - this stinging feeling in the way you look at him like he is a dead man walking. Love must be a hurricane that rips through him. A storm, an uncentered and reckless devotion. He thinks, even if it was your hands who gave him this wound, he would ask you again to heal it.

Tears spill at your lashes. He softens, smiles.

“C’mere”

You relent, give in. Exhaustion settling in your bones you let yourself be wrapped into his arms. He holds you to him, lets you be frustrated with him. He is too, would you know?

Love finds him like this, in your room. Begging you to look at him, getting drunk off the taste of your devotion. You squeeze his heart in your palms and he lets you. He would let you a hundred times over.

KAEYA

Sobriety is a fragile thing.

It’s not that he doesn’t like being sober, but he spends most of his time around liquor. It’s comforting - the smell, the rush of heat - not scorching but warm, the dizziness. Kaeya doesn’t drink enough to have a drinking problem but more times than not, he wonders if there are answers at the bottom of a bottle. If maybe he chases the end of the pint, he can find answers on his own misery.

Sobriety is.. fragile in that way. So easily he could drink himself to sleep but he has duty and responsibility. A life to live and sins to atone for but the laundry list of them just keeps growing larger. Bigger than his dexterous hands can cover for. It’s not that he’s miserable or lonely, but there is this lingering hollowness in his chest.

On his fathers birthday, he sits on the rooftop and drinks. He takes about 3 days off, every year, just for this. He’ll sit on the rooftop of the tavern day of, legs swinging off the edge as the world becomes an array of color beneath him. His thumb is over the mouth of the wine bottle, and he moves it just to drink.

The sound of your voice doesn’t startle him, but it makes goosebumps appear on his skin. He’s clad in a thin white dress shirt and it prickles as the breezes brushes by him. His chest is warm as you drop yourself down next to him.

At first, all you do is sit silently. Leaning back on your palms, you watch the stars and constellations shimmer like they always do in Teyvat. He smells strongly of alcohol but it’s nothing to scrunch your nose at. He takes another drink. Unsure of how to handle his misery, his grief gracefully at all - he gives you a strained smile.

“Has someone come to join me in my demise,” ― his voice is raspy when he speaks but he doesn’t miss a bit ― “How apt,”

Wordlessly, you take the bottle from his hands. He’s about to argue with you to give it back but instead, he watches you take three long gulps before pouring the rest out. Shocked, he watches it drip down the tile and onto the concrete below.

“Why’re you...”

You don’t reply with words but instead, lay back and drag him down with you. He can’t help but wonder what you’re doing. He lays down anyway, back hitting the tile as he blinks.

“How long do you plan on living like this?”

There’s no hidden meaning to your words. They are straightforward and laced with nothing but honesty. It makes him choke back a sob, the way you ask. Without much left to give, he cracks a barren smile.

“What could you possibly mean?”

Normally, you’d laugh at his despair. At his attempt at nonchalance. But you don’t, turning to your side to look at him. You reach your hand out to rest on his chest and he grabs your hand, shutting his eyes. Tears pool at his lashes but he laughs anyways.

“Kaeya,” ― you say, rubbing his chest and scooting in close to him. He turns to face you, for real, for the first time ― “How long, Kaeya?”

He doesn’t sob. Doesn’t cry or let himself be hurt. He gives you a misty smile and laughs as tears falls horizontal on his cheeks. You can hear his heart rate, erratic but slow.

“When it feels like enough.. when I’m forgiven,” he tells you.

“Whose forgiveness will it take? Dilucs?”

He shakes his head, unsure. You press your hand onto his skin, golden even in the cold blue of night. His cheeks are in your palms, he shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” he confesses. You sigh as you wrap an arm around his waist, loose. You bring his body to yours, letting your fingers rest in his scalp. In the nape of your neck, warm tears rolls down your shoulder. Your body is a safety like a brick house - like no wind or storm and disaster could ever take him from you. When he lets his cries turn into sobs, he mourns.

A life he doesn’t remember but atones for. The only family he ever had. For Kaeya, love finds him like this - grieving. A loneliness tearing him apart at the seams, frayed and long forgotten. Love comes to him while he is in tatters, offering itself to him.

“I forgive you, Kaeya,”― you repeat to him, over and over like an incantation ― “I forgive,”

This is how love finds him, in your arms. Forgiven

DILUC

He rests his head against your knee, body stiff after a long day. It’s a wordless evening - sky painted with a layer of pink and orange. It pours into the room in heavy waves, paints his pale skin with a warn shade of pink. His skin is warm from the heat as his shoulders slump in exhaustion.

You drag your fingers down his scalp before letting them slip beneath the hairtie that keeps his red hairs up. You drag it slowly, carefully down his back until it’s free. Red and unkempt - tangled from days out in the wilds. You give it a quick brush through, a quiet sigh leaving your lips.

There’s not a proper bathroom here - far out and away from the city. It’s an old house with an outhouse and dusty floors. After a particular difficult encounter with an Abyss Mage, you’d found refuge into the abandoned location. Without a bathroom, it would be hard to freshen up but you gave Diluc a playful half-grin.

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine,”

He thought you were kidding but now the two of you are out by the lake. And this is too intimate for two people who are really only supposed to be working together. It’s too gentle, the way your fingers comb through his red hairs and the little bottled shampoo you keep in your bag.

There’s something about the way you touch his scalp so careful that is too intimate. His shirt is somewhere inside, over the back of a chair. Pale skin that’s hot to the touch as your fingers work through each individual hair. A long, tired sigh leaves his mouth.

“So much hair,” ― your murmur under your breath. A blush turns him hot. His father was a good man.. affectionate and caring and proper. But this is different. Too much, even ― “But it looks good on you,”

You say it so easily. Just like how you touch him - unconcerned for what it means. For Diluc, the idea of romantic love is something awkward. It is clumsy and confusing. Love, has always been something that hurts, more than it has healed.

But his head is resting on your thigh and you’re touching him like he’s precious. As if he’d break if you’re too rough with him. There is an intimacy in it. A well-meaning and innocent love in the shape of your fingers and how they drag against his skull.

“...You’re so forward,” he tsks. You give him a gentle laugh, running your hands down his jaw and tilting his head back so he’s facing up at you. Your hands cradle his face with delicacy, thumb dragging across his jaw bone and admiring him. You’re being sincere, but he can’t meet your eyes.

“You don’t like it?” you ask him. He grabs your hands and puts them away, huffing under his breath. He is childish like this, with you and only you. No longer the Dark Knight or Master Diluc. Easy to jealousy and even easier to agitation, the kind of man who the world stops for seems to crumble at your feet.

“No,” he replies, unusually dishonest.

You lean forward until your arms are wrapped around his barren shoulders. He can feel your skin against his, the way your heartbeat sounds, the fanning of breath of his throat. It’s too much but he can’t move as your arms wrap around his shoulders. You know too much, see too much. There is something so all-knowing about the way you love him. How you tease him.

Love is a worship when it finds him. You are the closest thing to heaven he has ever believed in - sheer bliss in the way your eyes linger on his silhouette. Diluc is a devout lover for you, a follower in your all-knowing religion of love. Of affection. He leans his head back again to look at you as you look down at him, smiling.

“You’re troublesome to love, you know that?” he admits to you. You bend down to meet his lips in a kiss. Chaste. Holy

A smile parts your lips that Dliuc finds himself mirroring.

“Of course I do,”

Love finds him like this, in your arms - skin to skin underneath the summer sun. Alone in the fields of tall-grass and wheat. Love finds him like a religion, so much devotion and prayer for you to keep him in your heart always. He knows he would do anything for you.

#genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #writing #formal #there must be mnat errors in this but its 5am and i am sleepy.. take it or leave it <3

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donutloverxo · 3 years

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NO BUT LIKE CONCEPT: SMUT HC where mob!steve comes back from a rough night that leaves him very much outta it and ur the only one who can help him ... in more ways than one

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I'm making this a drabble cause I can't work with HCs. Thank you❤ Warmings -explicit sexual content, dom Steve, daddy kink, spanking, blood and wounds, bullets. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

You put some distance between your poor ear and your phone upon hearing your friends loud screech, excited since she saw your Instagram post of your new engagement ring.

"It is so beautiful! And so unconventional and unique too!"

"Mm-hm," you hummed, applying a second coat of your fiery red nail paint, to make it more intense, you just knew it'd look amazing against Steve's pale skin, he absolutely loved it when you scratched him and were a bit rough with him.

You never gave him any pointers on what kind of engagement ring you'd like, only thing that was a bit too obvious - which you never actually needed to say - was that you loved shiny things. So he has gotten you a ring with a huge sapphire ruby and tiny sparkly diamonds adorning the band. It was everything you needed and more.

"Makes sense because our relationship is anything but conventional." Where he had never directly said that his job involved a few things that were kind of, sort of, illegal but you weren't an idiot, it didn't take you long to figure out.

You knew he was important and rich when he asked you out, not just because he wore fancy clothes, but the way he carried himself, tall and proud and an aura that dominated any room he was in, two bodyguards always around him, and when you both started getting serious he assigned Peter, who was sort of an intern or newbie from what you gathered, to always escort you places and take care of you.

Maybe it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do - marrying someone who was as feared as he was respected - but all you knew was that he was a good man and you had faith in him, so you stayed away from that part of his life.

"You must be planning the wedding now," she beamed over the phone.

You scoffed, blowing on your fingers, "No, he's always at work these days. It's so annoying, if it doesn't change then I'm leaving and taking the ring with me."

You looked at it sparkling on your finger, it was too beautiful to part with. Besides it became yours as soon as he gave it to you.

"You're late, but there's nothing new about that," you puffed out your cheeks, hands crosses under your chest, as he loosened his tie and worked on taking off his shoes. He had been coming home past midnight for the last month, enough was enough!

"Doll," he groaned, looking at you and ready to tell you off and ask for some space, but then he saw you. In a satin babydoll that barely covered you, with lace trimmings that did nothing to hide your soft nipples, your toes and nails painted just the color he liked, and you were wearing those ridiculous fluffy slippers with bunny ears that he had grown to love.

His mouth opened and then shut like a damn goldfish, forgetting what he was about to tell you.

"Steven," you furrowed your brows.

He knew he was in trouble as soon as you called out his full name. "Yeah?"

"When are we going to discuss the wedding?"

"I'm sorry, doll, work has been hectic these days. But soon."

"Soon? Soon doesn't do it for me," jutting your hip and leaning against the door to your walk in closet, "I need an exact date."

"I can't give it to you right now, puppy," his jaw clenching as you rolled your eyes, "Watch yourself, sweetheart. I had a long day, you don't wanna get on my bad side today."

"You shouldn't have put a rock on it if you didn't intend on marrying me," rolling your eyes extra hard just to get on his nerves.

"I do want to marry you. But right now... you're sort of making me have second thoughts."

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Because you looked about ready to smack him.

"Fine then. I guess I'll leave and go live with my mother from now on. She would be happy for sure, she isn't too thrilled about our engage - " you stopped your rant as soon as you noticed crimson seeping through his crisp white undershirt as he took off his coat.

Your eyes as wide as saucers, your heart beating fast and hard in your chest and you could feel your eyes getting watery. You weren't handing out empty threats, you were definitely serious about leaving. Just to remind Steve of just how much he loves you.

It wouldn't be the first time. You had done it once before, when you went back to live at your apartment because he yelled at you for going out with your girlfriends without Peter. You didn't need a babysitter, especially not one who was several years younger than you. You had gathered up your things from Steve's penthouse and went home with a heavy heart. You loved him with all your heart, but there was no way you could make it work with someone who was that controlling and mean to you.

But he came to you, literally got on his knees to apologize and to beg for you to take him back. He even made you give up your apartment and got you a bigger house for you both to live in. Just so you couldn't take off ever again.

"Steve... your bleeding..." you said as you held back a sob. Any anger you had towards him was now gone.

"Oh, shit," he looked down to his side, "Must've ruptured the stitch or something..."

You walked over to him, holding onto his waist and looking up at him, trying not to look at his wound. You weren't that squimish around blood, it rarely ever bothered you, but this was your Stevie, and he was hurt. "What happened?"

"Its... It's nothing, doll. It was an accident."

"Yeah, I guess you slipped and fell on a bullet," you huffed.

"No, the bullet barely grazed me. And you know I don't like talking about those things with you."

"Why? I'm not stupid or weak, I have a right to know."

"Of course, not, puppy. You're my sweet, strong, smart girl," he cooed, bending a bit to peck your lips and then groaning. "Gotta, be careful with this," he said as your fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

"If I'm so strong and smart then tell me what happened," you asked as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. You didn't stop to marvel at his huge and perfect body like you always do, you looked at the fresh batch on stitches right over his hips.

"No, puppy. You're too good for that world, too good for me," he groaned as he sat down on the little pink couch he had put in the closet for you. Since you spent hours trying to pick outfits, he didn't want you standing too long and hurting your feet.

"Fine then don't tell me," you whimpered, rubbing your tears off with the back of your hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm right here, not going anywhere," he tried to pull you into his lap, usually he wouldn't even have to ask for you sit on it, but right now you were pulling away and refusing for some reason, "C'mere, doll," he almost whined. Not used to being told no by you anymore than you were by him.

"No, I don't wanna hurt you," you hiccuped, as your sobs started to calm down.

"You wouldn't. You could never hurt me. C'mere I wanna cuddle you and make you feel better," he tried to pull you into him again but you just shook your head.

"I should be the one making you better. Not the other way around. But I don't know how to..." you swayed from side to side, suddenly ashamed of your brash behavior from earlier. "I'm sorry, I was being such a brat earlier."

"It's okay, puppy. I forgive you. You were right, we need to fix a date and find a venue and get you a pretty dress. I wanna see you in one of those poffy gowns, like a princess."

"That's called a ballgown," you said proudly, having done your research now. You knew all about the styles of the gowns, sleeves, necklines, colors and everything. "And you're not going to be involved in dress shopping process. Grooms aren't supposed to see the dress before the wedding it's bad luck."

He hummed at that, a bit disappointed but he would eventually see it, and then take it off, so it wasn't a huge loss. "Yes, you're right. But, let's not forget, you were a bad girl."

You gasped incredulously, "Well, you were being a bad fiance!" Which earned you a swift smack to your backside, making you yelp and fall forward, holding onto his shoulders for support.

"I didn't mind you calling me out for that. I want you to be honest with me and tell me everything. But you threatened to leave me, again."

You pouted. Offended for being called out so blatantly. Yeah you always made empty threats, packed up your bags just for show, whenever you didn't get your way. Never considering his feelings when yours were hurt.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. But I'll have to teach you your lesson. Just so you know better next time."

You nodded your head, which made him spank you once more, "Yes, daddy!"

"Good. How many do you think you deserve?"

"Um... Fifteen. Ten for threatening to leave, and five for giving you attitude."

"See, you're so smart. I'll punish you tomorrow though. I'm tired right now," he groaned as he sat back against the couch, squeezing your hips and admiring your figure, showing through the thin material of your nightie.

"Um, daddy?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Is there anyway I can make you feel better right now?"

"Yeah, you can give me a kiss. You didn't give me one this morning when I left, or when I came back."

"Okay, I'll kiss you. But I also wanted to do more..." you murmured, your face burned hot as you realised that Steve was going to make you say what you wanted to do.

"Like what?"

"Like, take your cock down my throat. Would that make you feel better? I'll try and be careful about your stitches." Truth be told you missed being intimate with him, you needed it as much as he did.

"It definitely would make me feel better. But I want to have you close to me," he stroked the inside of your thighs, hands dangerously close to your cunt, "Why don't you, come ride my cock. Just like I taught you, hm?"

"But - what if I hurt you..." you whined. But he wasn't having any of it, rolling your panties down your legs.

"You wouldn't, puppy, come on we'll be careful. Be quick."

You gave him a meek nod, unzipping him with shaky fingers, giving his glorious cock a couple of pumps before straddling his lap. You made sure to not put any pressure on his lap. Lining his cock up to your pussy with your hands wrapped around his neck, you slowly sanked down on him.

First giving him a nice and thorough kiss to make him for not kissing him goodbye or welcome home like you always do. "I feel so full," you say against his lips.

He hummed, squeezing your ass, "I was made for you, angel. As you were for me." He slid the straps of your nightie down your arms, exposing your breasts to him. He made sure to shower them with all his lips, sucking, kissing and biting and pulling with his mouth. You were making the sweetest of noises, trying to keep your moans in as he helped you bounce on his cock by holding onto your hips.

"You're doing so good. Being such a good girl for me. My sweet, best girl," he cooed, kissing your forehead, he knew how you were still vulnerable to be on top.

"Am I making you feel better, daddy?" you sniffled, his cock hiting you in all the right places, making it impossible for you to keep going and hold off your climax.

"I'm all better already, thanks to you, puppy."

#berry answers #steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #steve x reader

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

The Vampire's Masquerade PT. 1

A Jason Todd x Vampire!Reader Story

Word Count: 14,610 Warnings: NSFW (Smut), Explicit Language, Violence, Mentions of Past Assault and Abuse

Author's Note: I made a story mixing DC and Skyrim and you're going to like it because that's what I've put on your plate. I've chaptered the story but Tumblrs a bitch and I can't post the entire thing so I'm going to do two parts. But it's still going to take forever to read. Enjoy! :) -Thorne

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There’d only been a handful of times in his life where’d he’d been truly afraid. So afraid that his throat would tighten to the point he’d lose air, adrenaline pumping through his veins, making every motion lightning fast, hands and knees shaking for fear of what would come. One hand was all he needed to count that many times, but this made two.

He’d run out of ammunition moments before but even then, it didn’t matter because the bullets didn’t seem to even affect the creatures in the slightest. The All-Blades had been knocked out of his hands from the last hit that had sent him back into the concrete pillar—through it actually and slamming into the wall. Every bone in his body creaked under the strain as he slid down the wall, collapsing onto his side with a low groan that broke into a cough as blood splattered across the cobblestone.

His sides ached with a fury too, and he was still reeling from the fact that it hadn’t been a weapon, but claws—nails—that had slashed through his tri-weave, titanium body armor, like a hot knife through butter. He pressed one hand against his bleeding side and coughed again, clambering to his feet, though he stumbled back to a kneeling position when his left knee gave out.

A hissing laugh echoed around the courtyard and he looked up, glaring at the group coming back towards him, though his anger was short lived when one of them threw their hand down by their side and those silver nails glinted in the moonlight.

“You were foolish to come alone, human,” one of them growled, cocking their arm back, and in a flash, they were coming at him faster than any human could move, even someone like him.

This was it. He was going to die again, and he didn’t even know what was going to kill him.

But he wasn’t a coward, and he wasn’t going to shut his eyes at his final moments. He steeled himself, waiting for the nails to pierce his throat when his attacker suddenly reared back with a sharp cry of pain and black blood splattered across his skin as their arm dropped to the ground, severed from their body.

The other creatures gathered around the wounded one and they all seemed to hiss at something darting around in the dark courtyard and behind the pillars. He couldn’t tell what it was because it was too fast—much faster than these things he was fighting. And bigger too. He watched in shock as each creature dropped to their knees then pitched forwards, torsos hitting the ground. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth when their heads rolled away, one tumbling right up to his boot.

They were dead but his relief was short lived as a low growl sounded above him and he drug his eyes up the giant dark mass in front of him and his jaw went slack. At least the things that were trying to kill him looked human, but this thing didn’t. And he only caught flashes in the moonlight as it took a step towards him, and the cobble cracked under the heavy stomp.

It had to be at least eight feet tall and at least seven hundred pounds if that hulking frame was any help. Suddenly it spread outwards and he sucked in a breath when he realized it was the wingspan of its large, gray wings, the tips of them pointed with long black horns. He finally got a full glimpse of its body, covered in a ragged black dress, and adorned with glinting golden jewelry and rubies.

He drew his eyes up to it’s face and he felt his heart stutter in his chest and trepidation burst through his veins at the mouth that was opened, and he saw two rows of serrated white teeth and four, long razor-sharp canines. Its eyes were glowing a crimson, locked on him and it raised an impossibly honed, clawed hand, reaching towards him.

He backpaddled away from it until his back connected with something hard and he looked behind him, seeing the wall.

“Shit,” he cursed and turned back around, and he couldn’t fight the whimper that escaped him when he saw the talons right in front of his face, curled into a fist. “Please,” he begged, and the hand uncurled and before he knew what was happening, a green light shot out of its palm and hit him in the forehead.

Peace washed over him in waves, and he swayed as his eyelids drooped, and the last thing he saw was the creature reaching out to him with both hands before it all went dark.

***

He drifted along the edges of unconsciousness for hours until he was finally able to make his body wake up enough to clear the haze from his mind. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was somewhere unfamiliar—the smell around him wasn’t one he recognized, like herbs and sharp metal.

Cracking his eyes open, he caught sight of what looked like a woman standing in front of a table. Her arms were moving, and he couldn’t see what she was doing, but the gentle scrape of what sounded like a pestle and mortar reached his ears. He took a moment to scan his surroundings.

The room was small and quaint, with wine red walls and black furniture, oddities hung on the wall and he squinted when he thought he saw a bird sitting atop a perch. He blinked and sure enough, the bird’s head turned sideways, a single beady eye gazing at him as it tipped its head down.

He started to sit up when he heard, “Don’t move. You’ll tear your stiches.”

She turned and walked over to him, taking a seat on the side of the bed. Silently, she reached down beside the bedside table and he heard splashing, then she brought up a wet rag and started wiping his chest and abdomen.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice hoarse and scratchy from sleep.

Her eyes didn’t shift from his sun kissed skin as she drug the rag over his abs. “My name is (Y/N) Storm-Strider. But you can call me (Y/N). What is your name?” she inquired, softly.

“Jason,” he murmured and a particular spot on his side made him wince and she halted immediately, looking for signs of discomfort on his face. “Are you alright?”

He grunted and shifted slightly. “It’s a little tender.”

She hummed and picked up a little bottle from the bedside table, using her teeth to pull out the cork. “This will sting a bit, but it will help,” she murmured and with one hand, rested the rag beneath the stitched wound, the other pouring the oozing green liquid over the area.

“Shit,” Jason hissed, feeling it sting viciously for a few moments before it started to dull and ultimately numb.

Evidently, she knew what would happen because she smirked and prodded the area with a stiletto nailed finger. “Feel better now?”

He huffed a laugh. “Can’t feel anything actually.”

“Yes, that’s what a paralytic agent will do.”

“I’m sorry, paralytic?” Jason repeated, blinking at her and she nodded.

“It’s paralyzed the nerves in that particular area.”

“What about healing?”

“Oh, that’s the joy of alchemy, darling. If one is skilled enough, they can negate negatives from potions while keeping certain aspects intact.” Suddenly, her eyes turned serious as she stared at him. “To your knowledge, were you bitten by any of the creatures you were fighting?”

“I don’t think—” he went silent, eyes narrowing as he asked, “How do you know that I was fighting?”

(Y/N) cocked a brow. “Who do you think saved you?”

Jason’s eyes went wide. “You mean that…thing…was you?” she merely smiled in return and he shook his head, feeling dumbfounded. “I thought…I thought you were going to kill me.”

She barked a laugh and rinsed the rag before wringing it again and wiping up his chest. “Hardly, darling. I haven’t killed someone of your kind in at least a few decades.” Her eyes narrowed as she admonished, “But I have to say it was foolish to enter a vampire’s coven with no protection.”

There was so much about that criticism that Jason wanted to open up but only one thing stuck out. “Vampires?”

(Y/N) met his teal eyes and smiled, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, and two pointed canines. “I can hear your heart racing,” she commented, then reached up and wiped the blood from his cheek. “You needn’t be afraid of me. I won’t harm you.”

“They did,” he shot back, and she chuckled.

“Well, that’s because you were fresh blood and you stepped into their lair.” She gave him a knowing look. “By all counts they were in their right to slit your throat and feast on your blood.” Her eyes narrowed amusedly. “After they ravaged you alive, of course. Vampires are known for desecrating the living.”

His mouth opened then it closed, and he thought a moment before asking, “If you’re one of them too…why did you kill them?”

(Y/N) hummed and set the rag on the nightstand before taking his face in her hands, tilting it left and right and up and down. She was looking for something, but Jason wasn’t sure what it was. “To be completely honest I’d been planning on it. I was waiting for a better time but when Nevermore told me there was a live human vigilante engaged in a fight with them, I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Nevermore?” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion, and she tipped her head back to the bird sitting atop the perch.

“Raven.”

He blinked and deadpanned, “You named your raven, ‘Nevermore’?” a snort passed his lips. “Poe fan much?”

She scowled and with her pointers and thumbs, spread his eyelids open so she could examine at his eyes. “It was a fitting name for an elegant bird, smartass.” She shifted her fingers and opened his mouth, looking at his teeth. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. Do you remember if one of them bit you?”

After she removed her fingers, he shook his head. “I don’t think any of them did.”

(Y/N) frowned, brows furrowed as she stood from the bed and moved to the window. She unlatched it and pushed them open before turning and holding out her arm.

“Nevermore, come,” she commanded lowly, and the bird landed on her arm. Her fingernails scratched lightly under his chin and she murmured, “Go to the grounds and fetch me some nightshade and bloodroots. We’ll need to concoct a cure for him just in case.”

The raven replied with low croak and flew out the open windows and she turned to him. “Nevermore will come back soon with the ingredients I need to make your cure, but since there will be a wait, I’d prefer you stay so I can monitor your possible condition.”

“You think I might become one of you?” he questioned, forcing himself to sit up despite her earlier warning. Now he was really worried. “How long do I have? What’s going to—”

(Y/N) shushed him with a raised hand. “Peace, Jason. Vampirism is a long process that takes many days. But it takes many painful days.” She replied and moved back to sit on the bed. “You might not be opposed to becoming one, but at the same time, one should choose vampirism for themselves, not fall prey and contract it without their expressed consent.”

She raised a hand and rested it on his chest, just above his heart and promised, “Please do not worry or be afraid. I will do everything in my power to make sure you have a complete recovery.”

Something warm bubbled in his chest, perhaps the sincerity of her words or maybe the calming trust that bled from her auburn eyes that glowed dimly, like embers of a fire.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” Jason murmured, cheeks warming as she pulled her hand away and smiled.

“Are you hungry or thirsty at all?” she asked, rising from the bed. “I’d be more than happy to make you something to eat or get you something to drink.”

He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling exhausted and he shook his head. “No, I think I’ll get some rest if that’s alright with you?”

(Y/N) hummed and opened the door, but just as she stepped out, she paused and turned back around, saying, “You needn’t be scared of anything harming you in this home, Jason. You can rest peacefully knowing you are completely secure.”

He trusted her—which was a first because he didn’t usually trust strangers, but he nodded and offered her a tired smile, one she returned and closed the door behind her. He shimmied back into a laying position, resting his head on the fluffy pillow, his eyes turning to the moon still in the sky. Jason stared at it, all the thoughts of what he’d learned running through his head, and he inhaled deeply, before shutting his eyes, and drifted back into sleep.

***Chapter Two***

Something cold and wet was touching his side and it made him twitch in his sleep, face contorting as he shifted away. He exhaled and his expression eased, but a moment later the cold, wet thing was pressed against his side againand before he could open his eyes, he heard a low whine.

With furrowed brows, he opened his eyes and looked down to his right, seeing a wrinkly faced dog with slobbering jowls propping its chin in the elbow of Jason’s arm, his nose pressed into his skin.

Jason snorted and reached over, scratching the dog behind one of its floppy ears. “And who are you?” The dog shook its neck and the tag on its collar jingled, prompting him to look at it. Fang the Boarhound. It read.

“Really? She named the dog ‘Fang’?” Jason rolled his eyes. “What a bookworm.” He looked down at him. “Fang the Boarhound, huh?”

The dog let out a low groan in response, head shifting to bite at the long pants Jason was wearing. He tugged on the fabric as if telling him to come on and Jason laughed heartily.

“Alright, alright. I’m getting up,” he chuckled, and Fang relented, bounding out of the bedroom. He rolled out of the bed and paused to examine himself. Every wound along his body, especially those long gouge marks from the claws had sealed up and he couldn’t fight the impressed feeling that went through him.

He tied the jogger laces tighter around his waist and walked through the door, though he stopped when he was faced with a long hallway and a lot more doors. One was at each end of the hallway and there were two on one side of the hallway, one on the other, and then a rather large opening. Jason figured that was the entry way and he tiptoed down the black carpet.

As he neared the entrance, a big black cat padded out of the opening and sat in front of him, staring up at him with golden eyes. The cat was huge, and he recognized it as a Maine Coon. A very friendly one as it pranced over to him and mewled until he opened his arms and it hopped into them.

He scratched its chin, cooing, “Aren’t you a pretty kitty?” It meowed and flopped in his arms, tucking itself under his chin and Jason huffed a laugh as he walked through the entryway, immediately entering the living room. It was wine red just like the bedroom he’d left, and the furniture was dark as well.

Jason scanned the area and saw a light coming from his left; he walked over and entered the little kitchen area, seeing (Y/N) bent over the counter, Fang pressed into her side.

“No, Fang, you already ate.” She admonished. “You’re gonna get fat if you keep eating.”

He tipped his head back and let out a howl.

“Oh, is that right, big boy? You’re still hungry?” Fang grumbled and she smiled, pulling something out of her pocket. “Alright, here you go.” He took it from her and chewed on it, and she turned, grinning at Jason.

“I see Salem found you,” she remarked, walking over to scratch the cat’s belly. “Handsome boy.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, wouldn’t leave me alone until I picked him up.”

(Y/N) giggled. “That’s how he works.” She took Salem from him, smiling at how the cat mewled. “Go and do something productive, Salem.” The cat took off and she met Jason’s gaze. “Are you hungry?”

His mouth opened, but his stomach answered with a fierce growl and he felt his cheeks get hot as she snorted.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she replied and turned around, grabbing something from the counter. (Y/N) spun back around and handed him a plate.

Jason took it from her and glanced down at it. There was a panini sandwich with meat and cheese and various fruits surrounding it.

“Thank you,” he said, and she smiled.

“Table’s in the living room,” she said and walked around him, leaving him to follow.

She’d already pulled a chair out when he got there and he sat down, his hunger keeping him from conversation as he began to eat, her merely watching.

After he finished the first half of his sandwich, he happened to look up just as another cat was jumping into (Y/N)’s lap, this one black too like Salem, but sleeker and spotted, and peering at him with big turquoise eyes.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t you have enough pets around here? Two cats, a mastiff, a raven. That’s a lot for one woman.”

(Y/N) grinned and ran her nails down the cat’s back, smile widening when it chirped. “I’ve got one more actually, but he’s probably not going to come out until he finds himself sure of your character.”

“Dog or cat?”

“Half-wolf, actually,” she corrected. “His name’s White-Fang.”

Jason shook his head. “What is it with you and naming your pets after animals in books?”

She shrugged. “I think their names are fitting.”

“What’s the cat’s name?” he asked, nodding at the one in her lap.

“His name is Pharaoh,” she murmured, gently scratching under his chin. “He’s an Egyptian Mau. I thought the name was appropriate for the breed.” She paused. “I’m surprised he came out so easily. Pharoah usually follows White-Fangs rather anti-social nature.” Her eyes met his. “He must sense you a good character.”

Jason wanted to counter that statement, but he simply grunted and popped a grape in his mouth. “Can I ask you a question?”

(Y/N) hummed. “I assume you’ve got many you want to ask?” he nodded, and she hummed. “Just remember curiosity killed the cat.”

He huffed. “I’ll keep it in mind.” Jason gazed at her. “If those things were vampires like you…why’d you kill them?”

“Gotham has been vampiric territory for almost three centuries. Vampires like myself, who are capable of taking on another form, are tasked with keeping our kind in check.”

“You mean keeping the discovery of the supernatural a secret.”

She nodded. “That particular group has been extending itself higher and deeper into the Gotham elite. My fear was that they would try to induct some of the socialites into their coven.” Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t need to consult the council to know what would happen if that occurred, so I took care of the problem before it came.”

“The council?” Jason questioned.

“The Vampiric Council. They’re responsible for overlooking all vampiric territories around the world. Really, the chain of command designates they overlook my position and I overlook lesser vampires around here.” (Y/N) sipped a glass of some red liquid he hoped wasn’t blood. “Though I haven’t been a part of the council nor its lapdog order in centuries.”

He gave her an odd look. “I know it’s rude to ask a lady’s age, but you keep saying centuries. How old are you exactly?”

(Y/N) chuckled, setting down her glass. “Do you want the age I was turned or how old I am now?”

“Both?” he quipped with a grin and she matched it.

“Hmm…I was turned when I was twenty-eight and I’m now…?” her face scrunched up. “Divines, how long ago was it when the Greeks lived?”

“About ten thousand years ago. Probably longer if you sit down and examine human history if I’m being honest.”

(Y/N) hummed. “Then I’m about ten-thousand and twenty-eight years old, give or take a few decades.”

Jason’s jaw went slack, and he simply gaped at her for a full minute. “…Are you shitting me?” he blurted out. “You lived before the Greeks were in their prime?”

She nodded and sipped her glass again. “Actually, this particular dimension wasn’t the one I was born into.” She waved a hand. “The dimension I’m originally from is much, much older.”

“How’d you manage interdimensional traveling?”

“Through sheer dumb luck and bad footing,” she griped, then let out a heavy sigh. “I was exploring a draugr ruin with a friend and somehow we came across the portal, though it was inactive.”

“And I assume the need for adventure made you curious about how to get it going again?”

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to her glass as she murmured, “You’d assume correctly. We combined our magics and got it to come to life, but something must’ve malfunctioned. As old as the ruin was, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.” She swirled the liquid. “My friend was sucked into it and I reacted, trading places with her.”

She looked up and met Jason’s eyes. “She was safe, and I fell through. I ended up in Neolithic Greece, as it’s referred to now.”

He wasn’t sure he should be so shocked. Honestly, he’d probably seen and heard more stunning things but still, her age and story were incredible.

“You’re really that old?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I am.”

“How’d you manage to survive this long?”

“I wasn’t some helpless babe when I came here, Jason. I knew how to take care of myself. Whether it was shelter and nutrition or fighting.”

Fighting was something Jason could work with.

“What do you prefer to fight with?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“I’ve mastered one handed and two-handed weapons. And I’ve mastered most if not all, hand-to-hand combat-styles. But if I’m being honest, I prefer daggers and magic. It’s easier to take down targets with stealth.”

“What type of magic do you use?” Jason questioned curiously. Being trained by the All-Caste meant magic was a common in his repertoire.

(Y/N) paused and thought a moment. “Well…there’s a few different schools to the aspect of magic. Five to be exact.” Her face pinched. “Six, if you count Necromancy, but technically that falls underneath one of the five.”

“Necromancy? Like summoning dead? Bringing them back to life?”

Before she could respond, something tapped at the window and she looked over the loveseat to the glass, and hurriedly placed a grunting Pharaoh on the table as she made her way over. Cracking the window open, Nevermore hopped onto her wrist and she held her other hand out, smiling when he dropped a bundle into her palm.

“Good boy?” he crooned, and she nodded.

“Good boy, indeed,” she cooed, pressing her lips to his beak. Nevermore fluttered from her wrist to the table and started preening Pharoah who rolled onto his back and let him.

Her eyes found Jason’s and she held up the bundle. “I’ve got the ingredients needed to make your cure, Jason.”

“How long will it take?”

“Less than an hour.” (Y/N) walked around the table and headed through the entryway, Jason scrambling from his seat to follow after her, more curious than anything.

She opened one of the doors on the left of the hallway and he was surprised to see how big the bedroom was. “Master bedroom?”

“Upset I put you in the guest room?” she teased, and he snorted, watching as she walked over to a chest and bent down, opening it. (Y/N) pulled a few bottles out and shut it before rising once more and exiting her room, Jason still following as they moved back to the guest room.

He watched as she started pulling the nightshade petals off the stem and putting them in the mortar and grinding them. After she was apparently satisfied, she dropped in the bloodroots and started grinding them into a mixture that smelled absolutely foul. (Y/N) picked it up and scraped it into a bowl, then added the bottles of oils and liquids that she’d taken from the chest.

When she was finished, she turned and bypassed him, moving to the bedside table where the oil lamp was burning. She set the bowl on top and left it there, sitting on the bed.

“It will take time for the mixture to boil and form,” she explained, and he took a seat beside her.

“Thank you for doing this, (Y/N),” he murmured, and she nodded.

“I do it because it is not something you’ve chosen, but I must request a favor in return.” Jason motioned for her to continue. “The knowledge of my existence? Of Gotham being vampiric territory? Of the council? You must keep it a secret. From everyone, even those you trust the most.”

He stared at her for a moment. “I can do that, but why?”

(Y/N) sighed and gazed at her hands. “Jason, I’ve been living here in Gotham since before the American Revolution. This city has always been vampiric territory and I’ve been overseeing it for all this time.” Her gaze shifted to him. “I don’t want to pack up and leave because knowledge of supernatural existence has been revealed. It would only cause problems for both our kinds. Hell, for all kinds of supernatural.”

“There’s more?”

“Werewolves, fairies, nymphs, anything you can think of it exists.”

Jason blinked. “…Wow that’s…a lot of otherworldly beings.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “You’ve no idea.” She reached over and took his hand. “But I need you to swear to me that you will keep this secret. Do not tell anyone where you were the other night or what you were fighting. I’ve already disposed of the bodies and cleaned the area. No one will ever know besides us and I need it to stay that way.”

He nodded. “I will. I swear.”

She smiled and pulled her hand away. “Thank you, Jason.”

For a few moments they sat in silence, then he leaned over and asked, “So…tell me about those magic schools.”

Clapping her hands together, she chirped, “Oh, I forgot I was talking about that!” she held up a fist. “There are five schools. Restoration, Alteration, Illusion, Conjuration, and Destruction.” With every category she raised a finger.

“And Necromancy?”

“Falls under Conjuration. Each school is different, Destruction and Conjuration speak for themselves, as does Restoration. Alteration is the school of magic where it affects the world around it by altering the laws of reality and manipulating it to one's own accord, allowing you to cast spells such as water-breathing, paralysis, and dragonhide armor.”

“Illusion,” she started. “involves manipulating the mind of the enemy, allowing one to cast spells like fear, calm, and invisibility.”

Jason cocked a brow. “That spell you used on me, the one that made me pass out. Was that a calming spell?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I was worried you’d start fighting me, so I did the easiest thing. Set your mind at ease and allowed your body to rest.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it for a second, then asked, “Will you show me some spells?”

She smirked. “I thought you’d never ask.” (Y/N) raised a hand. “The school of Destruction focuses on the elevation and perfection of three basic spells: fire, frost, and sparks.” The sharp smell of magic wafted up his nose and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up when she willed the purple electricity to her fingers.

“Each spell can be elevated to the master level of fire storm, blizzard, and lighting storm. All devastating spells. There are also spells that can cause health absorption from your enemies.” She smiled. “I’m favorable of those.”

“What are your favorite destruction spells?” he questioned, and she thought for a moment.

“I’m favorable to two: unbounded storms and the touch of death. Both are incredibly effective on the battlefield, though the touch of death is useful for stealth killings.”

Jason’s lips pulled in a satisfactory way. “That’s impressive. I’d love to see those in action sometime.” He smiled at her. “Show me the invisibility spell.”

“Say please,” she countered, and he chuckled.

“Pretty please.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes and waved her hand, the sparks fading into a shimmering blue cube with pink, orange, and purple swirling around her hand. She curled her hand into a fist and then released it, and to Jason’s amazement, she disappeared from sight.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “That’s awesome.”

Her giggle sounded beside him and she waved a hand that he had to squint to see. “Invisibility works on those who aren’t trained to spot changes in the environment. I’m invisible, but you can see me if you look close enough.” Snapping her fingers, she appeared instantaneously, and he blinked.

“Wow…that’s an impressive ability.”

“Thank you,” she smiled and turned her attention to the mixture that was bubbling over the lamp. “I think this should be done by now.” Taking it off the lamp, she wiggled her fingers and Jason could feel the chill from where he was sitting as she transferred it to her frozen hand, watching the steam rise from the contact.

After a moment, she handed it to him and said, “Drink.”

The natural human reaction was to smell it and that’s what he did, all but recoiling from the horrid scent. She laughed. “It’s not meant to be caramel syrup, Jason. It’s a cure for a disease. Plug your nose and chug.”

Jason scowled at her before squeezing his nostrils shut and lifting the bowl to his lips. He almost vomited when it touched his tongue, but he forced it down his throat and finished with an entire body shudder.

(Y/N) took the bowl back and gently cradled his cheek in her hand. “Let me see,” she urged, and he stared into her glowing ember eyes. Something appeared in her vision, relief, then she smiled and pulled her hand back; he mourned the loss of contact, even if her hand was freezing. “Yes, if you had caught vampirism, you’re cured of it now,” she said.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he expressed, and she stood, giving him a smile.

“You needn’t thank me, Jason. I’m only doing what’s right.” She nodded at the chair in the corner. “I fixed your suit for you, so whenever you’re ready to leave, you may.”

As she headed for the door to give him privacy, he called out, “Can I come back to see you?” She glanced over her shoulder with an arched brow, and he added rather quickly, “To see more magic and hear about your life?”

(Y/N) gave him a smile and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Jason.” She turned back around. “It’s been far too long since I had personal contact with a human. Maybe you can show me how to work a smartphone.”

“You don’t have a smartphone? In this day in age?”

“I have a rotary phone!” she retorted and scowled, “I don’t even have credit cards, Jason.”

“How do you pay for things?” he asked.

“I use cash? I’m rich, Jason. And I mean old, old world rich.”

***Chapter Three***

He hadn’t even taken one step into the cave when he was clobbered to the floor by three brothers in a bear hug. His back hit the cold cave floor and he mentally thanked that she’d healed his wounds because that probably would’ve opened them.

That being said, she hadn’t healed his sour mood because he immediately growled, “Get off me, now.”

His eldest brother looked up at him. “Jason, you’ve been missing since last night!” he cried. “We were worried about you!”

“Well, I’m obviously alive and safe, so get. The. Fuck. Off. Me.” He scowled at his brothers. “All of you.” They climbed off and pulled Jason to his feet, letting him brush off his clothes.

“Where’ve you been all night, Jay?” Tim questioned, taking a moment to pull the leather jacket away from his older brother’s side. “Your suit looks like it took damage…but I see you fixed it.” his head cocked to the side. “It looks like you used a blacksmith forge to do it.”

Jason whacked his hand away, tugging his jacket back in place to cover the fixes she’d made. “Got into a tussle with a couple gangbangers and tore my suit.” He glanced at his father who was making his way over, a frown on his face.

Bruce stood in front of him and held up a communicator. “You missed three calls. The first from Dick, the second from Alfred, and the last from me.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” he grunted. “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself without having to check in every hour like a pre-teen on his first date.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, then calmly stated, “I got into a fight, got my suit ripped, and went back to an underground safehouse outside the city where I fixed it and recovered for the night.”

He looked at his family. “I’m sorry I missed the calls but I’m alive and I’m safe. So can we drop it?”

For a moment, Jason thought he was in the clear, then Dick’s eyes narrowed in that stupid way that meant he was going to say something completely ridiculous, but not exactly off the mark.

“Were you with a girl?” Dick teased. “It’s okay, Little-wing, you don’t have to be ashamed of seeing your girlfriend.”

It was a trap and by God ,Jason knew it, but damned if he couldn’t help himself. “For your information, Dickhead, I’m bisexual so I could’ve been seeing a boy, but no, I wasn’t seeing a girl. I was sleeping. Alone.”

“The lady doth protest too much methinks,” Damian smirked, and Jason pointed at him.

“I’m not above kicking your ass just because you’re younger than me,” he threatened and shoved past everyone, moving to the suit racks. “I’m going back to bed.”

“But you haven’t told us about your girlfriend,” Tim called, grinning whenever Jason threw him the finger from behind.

“I already told you, I wasn’t with anyone,” he retorted and stomped up the stairs to the study.

Dick crossed his arms over his chest with a smile and murmured, “B, I think Little-wings’ got himself a woman, don’t you?”

Bruce merely hummed in response. “I’m still concerned about the complete radio silence. He’s never done that before.”

“Oh, come on, who do you think we learned radio silence from, Mister-Robin-Go-Find-Evidence-While-I-Apprehend-Catwoman?” he countered, smirking when Bruce glowered at him. “Everyone wants a bit of privacy every now and then B, and as much as we’d love to tease Little-wing into telling us who he was with, he is entitled to his silence every now and then.”

“True,” Bruce grunted. “But I still don’t like my sons ignoring me when I’m worried.”

Suddenly he was being pulled into a hug by the three boys around him while Dick squeaked, “Aww you do care!”

“Hrn, get off me.”

***

It’d been about two months since Jason came back to (Y/N)’s home, knowing that his brothers were watching him every night to see if he’d go offline again. He’d told them to screw off more times than he could count, but finally they relented, either assured of the fact that he wasn’t going to say anything or that they actually believed he had been alone that night.

Regardless, he found himself standing in front of her home, and now that he thought about it, the place was a lot smaller outside than it was on the inside, like those tents in the Harry Potter movies. Magic. He assumed and reached up, grabbing the brass door knocker that gave him the heebie jeebies more than he wanted to admit.

The ring sat in the mouth of a brass skull that had demonic horns curled around it. He shook his head and tapped the knocker a couple times then pulled away when he heard clacking on the other side of the door.

“Open!” something said.

He turned the antique brass doorknob, pushing open the door with a quiet, “Excuse me.”

Jason paused as he stepped inside. (Y/N) wasn’t anywhere in the living room or kitchen and he frowned, wondering where she was when something tugged at his jacket sleeve.

“Here!”

Glancing down, he saw the raven hopping up and down and he smiled, holding out his wrist, watching it hop to his forearm then up to his shoulder.

“Hey Nevermore. How are you today?”

The bird croaked in return. “Happy.”

“Yeah? Where’s (Y/N) at?”

“Studio!” Nevermore replied and Jason started moving past the coffee table and couch, smiling at the Neapolitan Mastiff and Maine coon lazing.

“Hey Fang, hey Salem.”

Fang didn’t even wake up, but Salem mewled once and shut his eyes again, flopping onto the dog’s wrinkly back.

Jason got to the hallway and paused. “Alright bud, which way?”

Nevermore hopped once. “Right!”

“Right it is,” he agreed and walked down the hallway to the single open door. He knocked quietly on the doorframe and stepped inside, immediately catching sight of (Y/N) at a stool, a paintbrush in her hand as she delicately lined her work.

“Good morning, Jason,” she said. “I was wondering when you were going to come back around.”

He hummed and walked over, watching as Nevermore flew off his arm to perch atop a wooden peg in the corner of the room.

“My family wouldn’t let up about the other night.”

“Ah,” she replied, and though he couldn’t see her face, he could hear her smile. “Yes, the notorious Batfamily. Master detectives, I’ve been led to believe, hmm?”

Jason stood beside her, gazing at her ember eyes that traced the movement of the paintbrush. She must’ve been seeing something he hadn’t because her hands were shifting faster than could follow.

“You know about us?”

“That Bruce Wayne is Batman and that his children are the gangling quartet of Robins? Oh yes, Jason. I’ve known since he took up the mantle.” Her eyes finally found his. “Pull that stool from over there and sit. I’ll be here for some time.”

He did as she said and sat down, propping his elbows on his knees. “Who are you painting this for?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Some billionaire in Hong Kong commissioned a painting of his dog and his brood of pups.”

“You don’t know the guy’s name?” Jason snorted and she shook her head.

“As I said, you’re the first personal human contact I’ve had in decades.” She dabbed the paintbrush in blue and painted the eyes of the sire. “I don’t typically associate with humanity much anymore. It’s easier to let things simply pass by.”

He frowned. “That seems like a lonely existence, (Y/N).”

“Not so much. I’ve had the boys for all this time.”

Jason blinked, then looked at Nevermore. “Wait, how old are your pets?”

“Immortality doesn’t just stop at vampires, Jason. The boys are all of extended lifeforms.” She smiled that pearly white grin and he saw the pointed canines. “Nevermore for example is tied to my life. He won’t die unless I do.”

“What if he gets crushed in a meat grinder?” Jason countered. “I feel like would stop him from coming back.”

“He’d come back missing a few feathers,” (Y/N) snorted when Nevermore squawked in anger. “But trust me, he’d come back, Jason.” She glanced at him. “How’ve you been? Any more problems?” He scowled, making her laugh. “Oh, this I have to hear.”

Jason grunted. “My brothers wouldn’t leave me alone about that night I was radio silent. They kept asking who my girlfriend was.”

“Did you tell them?”

“Tell them what?” he repeated, confused.

“Who your girlfriend was.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

(Y/N) huffed. “Should’ve said you were with someone. That probably would’ve gotten them off your back enough.”

“I thought you said to keep it a secret,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I did. But people are going to believe whatever they want to believe even if you’re sincere about otherwise,” she explained with a knowing tone. “I’d’ve just said I was with someone and couldn’t be bothered to talk because I was ravishing them until they couldn’t walk.”

Jason’s face went hot, and his stomach felt tight as he looked away. “Oh, uh, I…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “I guess that’s how you play ball, huh?”

(Y/N) chuckled lowly, sending shivers down his spine. “I’d almost forgotten how easy humans flustered.” She shot him a polite smile. “Apologies. I’m used to vampiric vulgarities.”

“Vampires are vulgar? Aren’t vampires supposed to be regal and pretentious?”

She cackled. “Oh, they are,” (Y/N) agreed. “When vampires aren’t attending council meetings or higher functions and are in a small group of trusted companions, they’d act so obscenely it’d put sailors to shame.” She sighed wistfully. “Massive orgies, endless feedings and flowing wine. It’s all so…common.”

“Have you attended many of those…parties?” Jason quizzed and she nodded.

“I did back a very, very long time ago, but I haven’t for some time now. It’s not exactly my thing.”

“But it’s a thing for vampires?” he said, brows furrowing.

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Feeding when copulating is supposed to be an intimate thing. Between two, in private, behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, because it’s a binding of blood and bodies. It’s meant to be an exclusive thing not an inclusive one.”

She shook her head. “It’s…hard to explain to someone who isn’t a vampire nor a lover of one.”

“Have you ever done it?”

(Y/N) blinked. “Fed in private?” he nodded, and she tipped her head in agreement. “With other vampires yes, but not humans.”

Jason felt curiosity course through him. “How come? I’d figure if you’re one who enjoys the more private events, why not humans too?”

“Because I stopped consuming human blood before I fell through the portal ten thousand years ago,” she explained. “Even then, the last intimate relationship I ever had with a human was in Scandinavia when the Vikings walked the earth some millennia ago. I haven’t been with another human since he died.”

“Sounds like it’s not a happy subject,” he murmured, and she nodded. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s alright. Mathias didn’t want me to mourn him but to remember him with joy.” (Y/N) rested the brush on her thigh. “Mathias got sick and none of my Restoration magic was healing him nor the rituals his clan were casting. I offered to make him one of my kind. It would’ve saved him, and we would’ve been together, but…” she trailed off and in a moment of compassion, Jason laid his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then inhaled deeply. “He worried that Odin wouldn’t accept him into Valhalla when he met his end. At the same time, he didn’t wish for me to break my vow of never consuming human blood again.” Her lips pulled into a sad smile, lamenting, “I held him when he took his last breath, and then I lit the pyre he laid upon.”

(Y/N) shook herself out of her stupor. “I then travelled across the lands for many centuries and to the Americas where I’ve been now.” She smiled. “I have had many human friends over the years and each time it gets easier to let go. You learn the pain is only temporary, but their memories are forever.”

Jason couldn’t think of a thing to say so he simply squeezed her shoulder again and pulled away, resting his hands in his lap. After a moment, he commented, “You’re an extraordinarily strong woman, (Y/N). I don’t think I’d be able to live as long as you could.”

“There’s always something new to discover, Jason. Vampirism is merely an extension of life until you die. Perhaps when this land is but ruins, I’ll travel back to Europe and discover something new?” she smiled, and he felt his heart thump against his ribcage. “The possibilities are endless.”

Before he could say anything, a low growl sounded from the doorway and Jason looked over his shoulder and hissed, “Oh shit.”

(Y/N) snorted and spun on her stool, holding out her hands to the wolfdog in the doorway. “White-Fang! I see you’ve come out of the study for once.”

The hybrid bounded over with heavy footfalls and Jason almost shit himself when it got up close. Because it was bigger than he’d imagined. Bigger, and dark furred, with bright white eyes.

She drew her hand up his hackles. “How’s my big, scary boy doing?” he growled in response, low and gravely, practically glaring at Jason.

“Is he going to eat me?” Jason whispered with mild-fear and he swore that wolfdog laughed at him.

(Y/N) huffed. “No, he’s not going to eat you.” She patted White-Fang’s head. “He’s just teasing.”

“I think he wants to eat me,” Jason retorted when she grabbed his hand and he whimpered as she neared the hybrid’s head. “My hand especially.”

She leveled White-Fang with a glare. “Heel.” The wolfdog immediately sat down and waited, watching carefully as Jason’s hand neared his head, and when it touched, he held for a second then groaned and moved around until Jason’s hand was at his ear.

“He wants you to scratch his ears, Jason,” she murmured, and he did, grinning like an idiot as the hybrids leg started thumping on the ground. “See, he’s not so scary.”

“I bet he is to anyone that tries to hurt you,” he remarked with a smirk and she smiled.

“Oh, he’s ripped a few throats out, certainly.” (Y/N) patted White-Fang’s side. “Alright boy, wanna go outside?”

He was pulling away from Jason’s hand in an instant, twirling in a circle at the door whilst growling for her to hurry.

“Well, go find your harness and you can leave.”

He disappeared and Jason questioned, “Harness?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I make Nevermore go with him so he can keep an eye out for trouble.” She huffed. “Animal control is one thing I don’t need on my plate.”

White-Fang came back with a harness in his mouth and bounded to (Y/N), letting her adjust it. After she was finished, Nevermore cawed, and perched himself atop a little wooden handle on White-Fang’s back, starting to preen himself as the hybrid hurried to the front door.

“Can he open that him—” the front door slammed, and Jason blinked. “I guess that answers that question.”

She giggled and stood to her feet, stretching her arms over her head before asking, “Want something to eat?”

Jason smiled. “Yeah, I could eat.”

***Chapter Four***

It was a constant weekly visit to her home, but Jason almost found himself returning every other day. At first, he thought it was some vampiric seduction she’d put over him, but with every laugh that escaped her lips from the stupid jokes he’d stolen from his older brother, he realized it wasn’t supernatural power that kept him coming back—it was love. He was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with her. And it only made it harder to see her because he knew with the knowledge of her previous human lover, she wasn’t going to be interested in Jason. But he could hope.

He stowed the black key into his pocket and curled a hand around the doorknob, pushing it open. “(Y/N)!” he called out.

Somewhere in the home, he heard, “In the study!”

God, that was another reason he loved her. She had books galore. First additions of books he’d only ever dreamed of holding, let alone reading. And she’d told him to take whatever he’d wanted.

He couldn’t stop himself from hurrying to the door at the opposite end of the hallway, turning into the study to see her bent over her desk, penning something on letter paper. He smiled at Nevermore who was perched on the bust above her on the wall.

(Y/N) looked up at him and gave a tired smile. She must’ve been about to go to bed from the looks of her wear, a black chemise she was fond of. “Good evening, Jason. How are you doing tonight?”

He put down the takeout bag on one of the loveseats and walked around her desk, leaning back on the edge.

“Well, it looks like I’m doing a lot better than you are,” he remarked, glancing down at her letter. It was full of words he didn’t understand, obviously another language he didn’t recognize, but he caught ‘Vampire’ and ‘Council’ a couple times but there was one word that slightly worried him and that was ‘Lycan’.

She sighed heavily and placed the pen back it its stand and rubbed her temples. “I’ve spent the last eight hours penning letters to and from the council and other confidants in neighboring locations.” (Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose. “There’s a problem in Gotham and I’ve got to understand how it started and fix it before it gets worse.”

Jason eyed her. “Are you talking about the werewolf that’s been running around at night?” he sighed. “I just got off patrol looking for the damned thing.”

“So, you are as well?” she answered lowly, her ember eyes shifting to gaze out the window at the nightly moon reflecting off one of the windows of a skyscraper. “I don’t know how one got into Gotham without my knowledge, but it has.”

She stood suddenly and walked around to her drink stand, pouring a glass of wine; she took a sip. “Now the council is up my ass about Lycan-encroachment on vampiric territory and I still have to contact the nearest werewolf colony to ask if they’ve lost one. I’m sure they’ll tell me to screw off in less nicer ways.”

“Yeah, Bruce isn’t too happy about the thing either,” Jason said, and he could feel his eyes on her as he mumbled, “It’s been killing every night and last night it ripped a family to shreds. Mom and a dad with three kids.”

A glass shattered and he looked over, seeing (Y/N)’s hand clenched tightly, wine glass in shards on the floor, red wine and black blood mixing as it ran down her arm.

“(Y/N),” he exclaimed, moving to her and he saw the crystal tears on her cheeks.

“Fuck,” she hissed harshly. “Nevermore and I have been out every night for the last week, but we can’t find the fucking thing.” Her auburn eyes found his and he saw the wrath within them. “To hell with the werewolf colony and protocol. I’ll rip that moon-born’s spine out with my bare hands.”

Her skin started to turn that pale gray like her second form and Jason gently took her hand, “Calm down, (Y/N).” She gazed at him and before she could say anything, he added, “If my family and I can’t find it, I don’t think you could either.” He gave a tight smile and reached up with his opposite hand, caressing her cheek. “Let’s get your hand cleaned up, yeah?”

She let him guide her to the bathroom where she sat town on the toilet seat, gazing deadly at the wall ahead while he pulled out a black bag, digging around for tweezers. Jason started plucking the glass out of her hand, every so often pausing to check for signs of discomfort in her expression.

When he was finished, he held her hand over the sink and rinsed it before toweling it, and when he pulled the black towel away, her wounds had already resealed themselves. He tossed the towel onto the sink and held her hands, not exactly knowing what to say to her.

“How old were the children?” she questioned calmly, and he sighed.

“Two, ten, and fifteen.”

(Y/N)’s eyes welled with tears again and she dug her black-nailed fingers into her palm, ignoring the pricks of pain. “Goddamn them,” she cursed in a tone frozen as winter. “Damn them to hell. All of their kind.” He watched her quietly as she raged. “Goddamn Lycan colonies allowing their kind to trample all over other kinds’ territories with no regard for the natural or supernatural. This is why I hate werewolves. They’re so inconsiderate and destructive.”

She brought a hand to her eyes, harshly wiping the tears. “Three children taken before their times and no justice to be given.” A sob escaped her. “I’ve allowed myself to become too complacent with your family protecting Gotham that I forgot my duty. Now look what I’ve caus—”

Jason took her hands. “Woah, woah, woah,” he said firmly, digging his thumbs between her fingers and her palms. “(Y/N), you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That family though—”

“Didn’t die by your hands,” he replied. “You’ve been trying to stop it. You haven’t been negating your duties. You never had the duty of keeping Gotham safe from crime.”

(Y/N) blinked. “What?”

“Your duty has always been to keep vampires in line here, not to stop crime from happening.” He shook his head. “As far as anyone is concerned, you’ve been doing exactly that. There is no complacence on my family.”

She gazed at him for a long moment, then leaned forward; Jason followed, pressing his forehead to hers. “Your words are kind, Jason, but I fear they’re not negating my emotions.”

One of Jason’s hands rose to hold her cheek. “Let me try another way,” he whispered and tilted her face, delicately pressing his lips to hers.

(Y/N) started to pull back. “Jason, I—”

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to her lips. “Let me help you right now.”

“I need,” she started. “I need more, Jason.”

He nodded. “Whatever you want from me, you can have, doll.”

(Y/N)’s breath shuddered, and she was never one to be held like she was glass. She surged forward and curled her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and Jason responded with a noise of shock which she swallowed, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her against him.

Suddenly, she pulled back and whatever he was planning on saying died on his lips when she commanded, “Bed. Now.”

Jason couldn’t help the startled laugh as he pulled away, letting himself be shoved backwards out the bathroom door and down the hallway. “Excited, aren’t you?”

She scowled as his back collided with the bedroom door and he lowered a hand trying to open it. “You’ve been walking on eggshells for the last six months, Jason. You want this as much as I do.”

His eyes went wide, and he stopped fumbling for the doorknob. “You—you know?”

(Y/N) pressed up against his body, shoving one of her thighs between his hips and Jason inhaled sharply as she ground herself against him. “Of course, I know,” she purred, tugging the collar of his shirt down. “I can smell your desire every time you come here.”

Jason’s only reply was a groan when she latched onto the skin just above his collarbone, sucking a red welt into it. One of his hands gripped her waist, the other starting back for the doorknob again, but she grabbed it and slammed it beside his head, fingers wrapping around his wrist just shy of painful.

“Blood, you see, Jason, is intoxicating on its own,” she murmured, trailing her lips up his throat, nipping enough that it had his hips canting forward, trying to rub against her thigh. “But the pheromones of desire?” (Y/N) whispered in his ear. “Are even more so,”

And he was helplessly pinned between her and the oak door, as she lowered her free hand and swiftly undid his belt buckle and popped the button of his jeans before she tugged his zipper down just enough to give it slack.

She slid her hand down into the front of pants and cupped him, smirking when he gasped and rolled his hips into her palm. “Divines, I could smell it crawling all over you,” she said. “I could smell those times you’d come over after relieving yourself of the ache.”

“(Y/N),” Jason moaned, and she squeezed him again, eliciting an even deeper moan from his throat.

“Tell me, Jason. How many times?” she asked, and he couldn’t find the words to answer her, starting to pant. “How many since we met have you taken your cock in your hand and pleasured yourself?”

“I—fuck—too many to count,” he gasped and gazed down at her; she was giving him that perfect little smile that made him twitch in her grasp.

(Y/N) shifted her hand and slid it inside his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his length and Jason’s knees almost went out beneath him right there when she started pumping him. “What do you think about when you do?” she smirked. “I know it’s obviously me.” Her ember eyes bored into his as she squeezed him. “Is it my mouth? Or my hand?”

He swallowed thickly, breath hitching as he confessed, “Y-you’re on your back and you’re—”

“I’m already bored, Jason,” (Y/N) cooed. “Missionary is boring.”

A chuckle actually made it from him at that and he whispered, “You didn’t let me finish.”

She laughed, countering, “Good thing I’m going to let you.” He groaned as she swiped her thumb over his tip, pressing down. “Come on, Jason. Give me something I can work with. Give me the most lust-filled scenario you’ve thought about.”

To accentuate her point, she tugged his length roughly and he growled, “I’m fucking you into the bed senseless while your ankles and wrists are bound and you’re screaming yourself hoarse.”

(Y/N)’s lips split with delight and he saw those points again as she pricked her tongue on one and all he wanted to do was suck the black blood pooling on the tip of it. “Am I on my stomach?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Your ass is up in the air and your—shit—your ankles are tied to your bed posts.”

“Ooo, I’m spread open for you, huh? Afraid I’ll be a bad girl and move before you can tell me too? Or are you afraid I’ll take control and ride you?” she taunted.

Jason’s eyes darkened and he glared down at her. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

(Y/N) grinned evilly and quipped, “Not right now you’re not.” She started pumping him faster and he sucked in a breath as his thighs started to quiver, stomach muscles clenching in anticipation.

“(Y/N),” he warned with a deep grunt, and she placed her thumb underneath his head, massaging there.

“I can smell it, darling,” she whispered, “how close you are.” She pressed her lips to his pulse point, mouthing the skin, flicking her tongue to taste the salt of his sweat. “I want to feel you come apart. Do it, Jason. For me, please, darling.”

“(Y/N) I—I’m gonna—” he choked out and she pressed herself onto his clothed thigh, rubbing and moaning and he could feel how damp she was. It sent him spiraling. “Doll, I’m—fuck I’m—” Jason threw his head back and canted his hips forward, seeing stars as he pulsed in her hand, jaw going slack as he let out a guttural groan. She twisted her wrist and pumped him through it until he was grabbing at her wrist, an overstimulated and shaking mess.

She leaned away from his neck and pulled her hand from his boxers, lifting her fingers to her lips. He watched as her tongue darted out and tasted him and he felt the desire pool low in his gut again as she moaned, swirling her tongue between two of her fingers, collecting the sticky white lines leftover.

Jason grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him, pulling her into a searing kiss, groaning at the taste of himself on her tongue. She was strong, but he wrenched his wrist out of her iron tight grip and grabbed the doorknob, shoving the door open. He swallowed her laugh, and she tipped her head back so he had better access.

They stumbled to the bed and his calves hit the edge. Her hands were already pushing his pants down to his knees to the floor and he leaned away from her, pulling his shirt over his head. He smirked when her eyes flared with need and she placed her hands on his chest and shoved. Jason went down easy, and she was crawling over his body, lowering herself to grind on him.

He bit back a groan as he felt himself hardening and slipped his fingers under her thigh length chemise, feeling up her stomach and to her breasts. (Y/N) gasped when his thumbs swiped over her nipples and she arched her back into his touch.

“Like that?” he smirked, and she matched his grin.

“I’d like it a lot better if you pinched ‘em.” He chuckled and did exactly that, moaning when she ground herself harder onto him, her head tipping back slightly.

Jason pulled his hands away and she whined until he grabbed the chemise and lifted above her head and off her body. His eyes widened when he realized she was completely nude underneath and she giggled when he twitched beneath her.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the great dick is surprised. Both figuratively andliterally.” (Y/N) placed a hand on his broadly defined chest and bent her knees beside his hips, resting the tops of her feet on his thighs.

He grunted and griped her hips as she raised herself up. “Something tells me you were planning this all night.”

She smiled sweetly and grabbed him, using his head to spread herself. “Did you want me to wait for dinner first?”

Jason’s laugh dissolved quickly as he groaned, “God, you’re so wet, doll.” He could feel her dripping down his length and he fought to keep himself under control and not thrust up into her heat.

“I can’t help it, darling. You do it to me.” She sunk down on him slowly, letting out a moan that hitched when he bottomed out inside her.

(Y/N) took a moment to breathe, letting herself adjust to his size; he was certainly bigger than most and she knew he was thinking it by that smart grin on his lips, though she could tell by the way his chest was heaving that he was straining.

“Tell me, Jason, was this ever a fantasy of yours?” she asked, pulling at his hands until he ran them up her legs, massaging the flesh of her thighs.

“Absolutely,” he panted, and she purred when he pressed his thumb between her legs and rubbed lightly.

“Please tell me you were handcuffed to this bed, darling,” she begged and using her leverage she raised herself off him all the way then sunk back down, grinding her hips against his. “Tell me I was watching you writhe underneath me while I bounced up and down on you.” She moaned. “Oh, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come all over my fingers thinking about riding your cock.”

Jason’s back arched slightly, and he couldn’t help but dig his head into the pillow beneath him. “Fuck, your mouth is so dirty, (Y/N).”

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Tell me something I don’t know,” she countered, then shifted, taking one of his rosy buds in her mouth.

“You’re really tigh—fuckin’ hell,” he cursed when she tugged lightly with her teeth.

(Y/N) laved it over with her tongue and was heading for the second one when he grabbed her chin and yanked her head up, hissing, “Ride me like you mean it or I swear to God, I’ll flip us and fuck you until you’re boneless in this bed.”

“Promises, promises, darling,” she cooed and put both hands on his chest to push herself up. And that was all she said before setting a vicious pace, bouncing up and down, and all Jason could do pinned underneath her was grab her hip and thrust up when she came down.

When he tried to sit up to hold her, she placed one hand in the center of his chest. “Not right now, darling. Later tonight.”

He groaned. “We’re still gonna be busy tonight?”

(Y/N) winked. “All until the early morning hours,” she panted and with her free hand, reached between her legs. She hissed at the added pleasure and then Jason knocked her hand away, replacing it with his fingers and soon she was clenching tighter and tighter around him as he sped up.

“Jason,” she whimpered, the coil in her gut moments away from snapping and he nodded, massaging the flesh of her hip with his free hand.

“I know, doll,” he replied heatedly, swirling his thumb tighter and faster. “Let go. Let me feel you around me.” Jason bypassed her hand this time and sat up, pulling her against his body and he grabbed her chin, growling, “Come for me, (Y/N). Do it. I wanna see you come all over my cock.”

(Y/N) stilled in his lap with a gasp as she shuddered against him, insides fluttering as the ache between her legs pulsed. Jason’s thrusting turned frantic and sloppy and soon he was falling over the edge too, grip like steel on her body as he spilled himself deep inside her with a low groan. He collapsed back onto the mattress, pulling her with him and they lay there, panting and sweating, but satiated and content.

Jason’s fingers skimmed up and down her spine and she nestled against his chest, her long fingernails delicately tracing the scars over his skin.

For a moment, all was calm and quiet, then in the quietest, most painfilled tone she’d ever heard him use, he whispered, “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

She didn’t want to move herself from his warmth, though she tipped her head up, propping her chin on his chest. “What for?”

He couldn’t look at her. “I—I didn’t want to do this.”

“What?” she breathed and immediately she was pulling away from him, ignoring the separation of their bodies. “If you didn’t want to do this then why would you—”

Jason held her close and lamented, “Mathias. I…I didn’t want to make you think of him.”

(Y/N) gaped at the man beneath her, then she calmed and rested a hand on his cheek, explaining, “Jason, Mathias died thousands of years ago.” She smiled, though he could see the sadness, even as minute as it was. “I lost him, yes, and I mourned him for many decades. But I moved on.” Her thumb swiped over his skin. “You needn’t worry of my affections for Mathias coming in between this. I loved him. Past tense.”

Her eyes flashed with sincerity. “But right now? I love you. Present tense.”

Jason blinked in shock. “You…you love me?” he shook his head when she nodded. “I just thought that you’d want…well you know…”

She laughed. “That I’d just want sex?”

“Yeah…”

“I trust me, I do want that. But,” she began and leaned up, brushing her nose against his. “I want your heart, Jason.”

“Please mean that figuratively and not literally,” he joked, and she rolled her eyes.

“I forgot how much humans could act like asses when they wanted too.”

He let out a ‘hmpf’ and tipped his head up. “You like my ass, thank you very much. It’s perfect and round and perky.”

“I do. And it is. But I think I’ll like it more when I’ve got you shoved face first into the bed and it’s all pretty in the air for me,” she smirked and his eyes went wide, jaw dropping.

“Are you talking about…”

(Y/N) grinned wickedly. “Oh yes, darling. Yes, I am. I’ve got one in the drawer down there if you want to go ahead and start the process.”

Jason swallowed thickly and chuckled nervously, “Maybe we can save that for a later day?”

Giggling, she nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, Jason.”

“Oh, thank God,” he sighed, cracking a smile when she snorted. He looked at her and cupped her cheek. “I love you, (Y/N).”

She smiled wholeheartedly and he felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I know. And I you.”

***Chapter Five***

Jason learned to not hope for things to stay the way they were in his life. He lived each day knowing it could be his last, a stray bullet or a well-placed knife between two ribs, he didn’t hope to stay alive—he wanted to, but he didn’t hope for it. But when it came to the fifth month of dating her, he hoped things would never change.

It was odd at first, staying over at her home every other night. Mainly because he learned early on that (Y/N)’s vampirism meant she hardly ever needed sleep. An hour, maybe two at the most, and then she was ready to go. Of course, when he’d brought it up, she did mention that the older she got, the less sleep she needed. Something about being as powerful as she was. Apparently, new blooded vampires slept for months on end, whereas the older ones barely slept at all.

He also noticed that with her not-sleeping, she also watched him a lot. It did send shivers up his spine, but not in the bad way. The only reason he knew she did was because he was asleep at one point and being trained to know when there were eyes on him, the hair at the back of his neck kept standing up and when he rolled over and opened his eyes, she offered him a sheepish grin and an apology for staring at him. “You’re really handsome and content when you sleep, darling.” She’d said. “It makes for a perfect inspiration to paint.” Jason learned to relax after that.

But soon, every other night carrying a duffel bag to her place became spending every night and filling a chest of drawers with his pants and undergarments, and the closet with his shirts and jackets. She’d even let him use an armor stand in her basement—she had a basement with weapons and armor and a blacksmithing station that made him squeal like a child when he first saw it—to place one of his extra suits. If it had been anyone else, Jason would’ve said things were moving way too fast, but something about (Y/N) told him that there wasn’t going to be anyone after her—while he wouldn’t be her last love, she was the last he’d ever have.

***

Arms encircled his waist and he hummed as she propped her chin on his bicep, watching as he prepared the vegetables. “What are you making?” she murmured, pressing a kiss just below where his T-shirt sleeve stopped.

He noticed that about (Y/N) too. She was very affectionate, always pressing kisses to where she could reach, or resting her hand or leg on him. He’d never been big on contact since coming back, but there was something so comforting about the chill of her lips and fingertips when she did.

Jason sliced into a carrot. “Beef stir-fry.” He grabbed a long green bean from one of the bowls just off the cutting board and raised it to his arm, smiling when she took it from him.

“Mmm, I’m glad I don’t have to do all the cooking for once,” (Y/N) quipped, as she licked her lips.

“Oh, is that all you’re keeping me around for then? To be your personal chef?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jason.” Her eyes twinkled and she pressed herself up against his back, her hands sliding down to his haunches where she squeezed lightly. “I keep you around as a personal bed warmer too.”

He barked a laugh and glanced over at her. “I should’ve seen that coming.” (Y/N) puckered her lips and Jason chuckled. “I did see that one coming though,” he remarked as he pressed his lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she giggled.

She pulled away from him and walked to his other side, leaning down on the counter. “Do you want any help?”

“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ve got it.” Jason turned his eyes onto her. “Did you get any response from the Lycan colony in Virginia?” (Y/N)’s eyes momentarily darkened, and he sighed. “Guess not.”

“They won’t talk to me through unofficial channels,” she answered. “If I actually want to learn what’s been happening, I’ll have to ask the council to call a meeting with the Lycan Alliance.” She rolled her eyes. “Going through the procedure is just bureaucratic bullshit but it’s what’s kept our kinds from all-out war for thousands of years.”

Jason glanced at her. “There some type of truce made like in the movies?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Back when I still worked on the council I—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, disbelief crossing his face. “You sat on the Vampiric Council? But I thought you hated it?”

“Oh no, I don’t hate the council. I loathe it. Entirely,” she corrected. “But I was the one who put forth most of the effort to get the truce into place.”

“Really now?” he wondered, eyes wide with impression. “How’d that come about?”

“Tensions between our species reached a boiling point and we were headed for full annihilation of our species if we couldn’t find peace somehow,” (Y/N) remembered. “I called on the leaders of the Lycan forces and asked for a parlay to negotiate a truce.”

“Did it work out well?” Jason asked. “Can’t imagine werewolves and vampires sitting peacefully in a room together. Sounds like a recipe for complete disaster.”

“In any other case, I’d agree, but you’d be surprised how calm people can get when peace is on the table,” she remarked. “I was the strongest on the council and my word carried the most authority, so myself and my most trusted confidants met with the most authoritative Lycan leaders for an entire month and on the night of the final day, we reached an agreement.”

“You weren’t worried you’d be outvoted by anyone?”

(Y/N) grinned, showing her pointed canines. “Oh no, darling. Me and the others made enough to outvote their opposition. But I digress, the agreement stated that all forces were to cease fighting when the sun rose on the first day of the new month and return to their respective colony or coven immediately. Our leaders would designate territories for both species and the other wasn’t allowed to enter unless given express consent.”

Her ember eyes followed the knife he wielded. “If a vampire killed a werewolf, the offended party was given custody of the perpetrator to do with as they wished and vice versa. Any crime against another was to be investigated and handled by elite members of the species, and punishment only carried out when acknowledged and allowed by the Council or Alliance.”

She sighed. “It took an entire month to draw out the truce and even longer to enforce it to the point that we could all take a breath and not dread war. But it worked, and we’ve had relative peace for a few millennia.”

Jason scraped the chopped carrots into a bowl. “How are your territories designated?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Fairly easily actually. Werewolves prefer warmer climates and vampires prefer cooler ones, so southern states and countries were typically handed over to the Lycan Alliance while the Vampiric Council took control of the north.”

He snorted. “So, what, the closer I get to the equator, the more werewolves I’ll find?”

“Pretty much.” She smiled. “Most northern and eastern states here in the U.S. are vampire-controlled territory. The south and Midwest are typically werewolf territory.” (Y/N) tipped her head side to side. “That being said, there are some cases in which Lycan colonies will reside in vampire control and the other way around too.”

“What cases are those?” he questioned, quickly chopping some tomatoes.

“On average, most native tribes are werewolf packs, though there are some tribes that are vampiric. The Mohawk tribe has been known to have a few of my kind here and there.” She reached over and plucked a cherry tomato from another bowl. “Since some native tribes still reside on their original lands, we share the territory with them.”

“Oh, so like in Twilight?”

“Yes, but also no, and please don’t ever mention that abomination again,” she scowled, and he chuckled.

“Yes ma’am.” Jason smiled, then seeming to think about something, his hands stilled.

(Y/N) caught it instantly. “Is something wrong?”

“Can I ask you something personal?” he questioned, gazing at her seriously and she nodded.

“Of course. Ask me anything.”

He inhaled deeply. “How’d you become a vampire? And why?”

She blinked, evidently not expecting that one, but she recovered and pulled his arm, tugging him away from the counter. They wandered into the living room and Jason collapsed onto one end of the loveseat, (Y/N) at the other. Resting her feet in his lap, she smiled when he started massaging them.

“This was back when I was still in my dimension and human, but vampires had become bolder and started attacking cities. They were looking for something, but no one knew what it was. All we knew was that there were attacks night after night and no sign of it ending.”

Her head tipped back onto the arm. “I was approached by a vampire hunter who wanted me to join the Dawnguard, an order of vampire hunters who were looking into the growing threat. I agreed and met up at the fort where the leader, a man named Isran, told me to go to a location called Dimhollow Crypt and investigate why the vampires seemed particularly interested in the tomb.”

Jason dug his thumbs into the bottoms of her feet. “What did you find?”

“A bunch of dead Vigilants of Stendarr and a whole lotta vampires,” she deadpanned, and his brows furrowed.

“What’re Vigilants of Stendarr?”

“Holy hunters of the Divine God Stendarr,” (Y/N) answered. “They root out evil and daedra where they find it.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “A bunch of pretentious assholes if you ask me.”

Shaking her head, she continued, “So I snuck through the crypt and eventually found this…pillar with a bunch of unlit braziers around it. My dumbass put my hand on the pillar and got impaled by a spike, but my blood broke whatever magic seal and lit the braziers.” She took a breath. “After I got slid them in order, the floor moved, and an ancient sarcophagus was revealed.”

“And you found a mummy?” he quizzed with a grin.

“Actually, I found a vampire,” (Y/N) retorted with a smirk. “And Divines know how long Serana had been down there, but I helped her out of the crypt and back to her home off the coast of one of the capital. There, I met her father, the leader of the coven, Lord Harkon. He wanted to repay me for returning Serana, so he offered his blood—the chance to become a Vampire Lord like him.”

Jason rubbed her ankles. “What made you accept?”

She glanced at him. “He did show me the form of the Vampire Lord and…I was a greedy, power-hungry young woman then,” she admitted somewhat shamefully. “The thought of being able to bend humans into submission by swaying minds and having all that power… spoke to something dark inside me.”

(Y/N) cleared her throat. “I accepted, though it didn’t take long for my heart to change. I got less concerned with power and more concerned with security and ensuring our kind in the castle were safe.”

His hands stopped moving and she looked at him. “What is it?”

“You said you were greedy and power-hungry, but the woman before me hates any form of control, especially the Council.” Jason’s brows furrowed. “If you were as cruel and dark as you said, what changed you mind?” He seemed to remember something. “Did it have to do with your refusal to consume human blood?”

She bared her teeth in a growl, though it was more herself than him. “Divines, I forgot how fast you pick things apart.” (Y/N) sighed heavily and looked away. “…Harkon used to have humans in a dungeon beneath the castle. He called them…cattle. At first, I didn’t mind, but the thing about feeding is that you receive human emotions and memories.”

Her eyes got a faraway look. “It got to the point where I couldn’t bear feeding on them because all I could feel was their despair and agony.” She could feel his hands squeezing her heels. “I went to see an old friend and relayed my problems and he reminded me of something he’d told me a few years before…”

“What did he say?” Jason murmured and (Y/N) turned her attention back to him.

“He said, ‘I once told you when you came to question my death, What is better: to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?’ I feel as though now it is your time to look inside and choose.” she paused. “I swore an oath there that I would never again consume the blood of a human. I would overcome my desires and nature and I would do it every day as long as I breathed.”

(Y/N) stared at him. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of what he told me. I repeat the mantra every day. I live by it.”

Jason merely gazed at her for a moment, then he offered her a small smile. “You’re a strong woman, doll. Stronger than anyone I know.”

She huffed a laugh. “Thank you, Jason, though my strength is nothing compared to some of those heroes on the news.”

He chuckled and shifted her legs apart as he moved up her body. Jason rested comfortably atop her and she threaded on of her hands in his silky hair, scratching her long nails against his scalp.

“Nah, you’re the strongest of them all,” he said, pecking her forehead.

(Y/N) smiled widely. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Jason replied, leaning down to kiss her lips, and a shrill ringtone made them both jump. He gave a flustered laugh and reached down his pocket, pulling out his smartphone. “Sorry, thought I had it on silent.”

She giggled. “It’s quite alright, Jason.”

He grinned at her and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Even if she weren’t next to the phone, she could still hear the conversation, her hearing was exceptional even amongst her species.

Jason! Finally! I’ve been calling you like all day!

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I wasn’t answering.”

“Who is it?” she mouthed.

“Dick,” he replied.

What was that?

“Nothing, I was just—”

OH MY GOD! ARE YOU WITH SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?

“No, Dickhead, I’m not.”

IT’S THE GIRLFRIEND, ISN’T IT, LITTLE-WING!

“Little-wing?” (Y/N) snorted and Jason pinched her hip.

“What do you want, Dick?”

Well, now that I know you’re with your girlfriend, can I talk to her?

“No,” Jason scowled, and she held out her hand with that look and he sighed. “Fine, here she is.”

(Y/N) smiled as she heard Dick squeal on the other end. “Hello? Dick?”

Yes! Hi! That’s me! Little-wing’s older brother!

“I know you are,” she replied. “I’m (Y/N), Jason’s girlfriend.”

See, we knew he had one. He’s always rushing around the manor like he’s late for dinner.

She smirked and cocked a brow, looking straight at Jason. “Oh, he is, is he?”

“What’s he saying?” Jason asked and she quickly brought one of her legs up and pushed against his chest, shoving him back to the other side so he couldn’t grab the phone.

“Tell me, does he ever talk about me?”

Oh, never. See he’s super tight lipped.

“Jason doesn’t talk about me?” (Y/N) pouted. “Jay, darling, I’m hurt.”

He tried shoving her leg out of the way, but she didn’t budge. “(Y/N), gimme the phone.”

I know the best way to remedy that, (Y/N)! You should come over to the manor tonight for dinner and we can absolutely humiliate him for you!

Her lips split evilly. “Tonight, for dinner? And here Jason was making some of his famous beef stir fry for me.” She shrugged. “Oh well, I guess there’s always tomorrow.”

So, you’ll come?

“We’ll be there,” she quipped, winking at a scowling Jason.

Oh my god! GUYS, JASON HAS A GIRLFRIEND AND SHE’S COMING OVER TONIGHT! OH, CRAP ALFRED, WE’RE HAVING A DIN—

Jason yanked the phone from her and hit end call, then leveled her with the darkest glare she’d seen him give—and she loved every second of it, smirking right back. “Why would you do that?” he questioned lowly, and she raised her foot, toeing the collar of his shirt.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling,” she replied innocently.

Jason grunted low in his throat and grabbed her foot, sliding his hand up her leg. He got to her upper thigh and curled his hand underneath her, bending her knee up to lay across the back of the couch. Her other leg, practically on its own accord, shifted outwards, allowing him space to lay between her hips and (Y/N) couldn’t help but inhale sharply when he peered up at her, teal eyes narrowed and searching for something in her expression.

“Now we have to go suffer through dinner with my family, (Y/N),” he murmured, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh where her shorts had ridden up.

“It’s only for a few hours,” she huffed, ignoring the urge to thread her fingers in his hair and tug him closer where she wanted him. Jason groaned against her thigh and she shivered as the vibrations sparked deep beneath her skin. She whined lowly and he shifted to her other thigh, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh. (Y/N) cursed as he sucked a bruise into her skin, laving the sting with his tongue before dragging it closer to her center.

“Jason,” she gasped, feeling his fingers starting to slide under her shorts, and then he was pulling away, from her body and from the loveseat to stand before her. (Y/N) didn’t know what to do as she stared up at the rather smug looking Jason, one leg cocked up over the couch, the other haphazardly resting on the floor.

“Knowing Alfred, he’ll want us there by six, so we should get ready to go,” he stated before sauntering off towards the bathroom.

She lay there for a moment, heart beating wildly in her chest, then the annoyance flashed across her face and she shouted angrily, but more flustered than anything, “You are such a teasing bastard!” All she heard was a bark of laughter.

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yourtamaki · 3 years

Text

all yours

kirishima x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: size kink, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), spitting, one ass smack, one bite from shark boy, creampie, slight breeding kink, slight dumbification

being a hero meant you were constantly in the public eye

there was no escaping it when the missions you were assigned were directly tied to your public approval

more people liking you meant bigger, flashier missions

and if they didn’t, well…

at least there was never a shortage of paperwork to be done

you’ve been doing well though! raising through the hero ranks faster than your agency anticipated

faster than you anticipated

it was great! it was everything you’d worked your whole life for

it…it was exhausting

not only did you have a sudden influx of missions to complete as your agency tried to capitalize on the exponential growth

you had also been instructed to have near daily interviews

smiling for the camera was fine until your cheeks started hurting from the strain

it was no wonder that by the third straight month of the endless pattern of gruelling missions followed by repetitive interviews you were physically and mentally drained

your boyfriend did his best to make sure you were taking care of yourself, cooking you lunches and texting you throughout the day to check up on you though there was only so much a fellow pro hero could do with his own busy schedule to attend to

kirishima knew exactly what you were going through and his heart broke whenever he could catch a glimpse of you before you passed out in bed

so when it all came to a head one day, he was more than ready to catch you

just open the door. you were stood frozen in front of the door of your apartment, keys in hand. that’s all you had to do. twist the knob, open the door and he’d be right there. your eiji. he would take one look at you and know exactly what to do to make you feel better. love and comfort were a few steps away and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

the day had beaten you down more than you thought possible. everytime you blinked you could see the flash of bulbs, hear the shouts of reporters or was that the screams from your rescue today? it was all starting to blend together. you were an open wound, pulsating and bleeding vulnerability. how could you let your boyfriend see you like this? weak and broken and barely holding it together. it wasn’t just embarrassing. it was shameful. eiji had been living this life longer then you had, had risen to heights you could only dream of and he did it with ease. meanwhile, a few months had left you a shell of yourself.

you didn’t know a hero could be this pathetic.

just as you were about to turn and take a walk to clear your head, the door swung open. eiji’s head was tilted to the side, his long crimson hair falling over his shoulder loose from its usual ponytail. you couldn’t bring yourself to look in his eyes, afraid of what you’d find. you let your gaze drift upwards, focusing on the small scar above his eye. what if he was disappointed? red riot deserved a partner as strong as him and you did not fit the bill. not anymore.

“i’m home.” you willed your voice to not shake as you crossed the threshold into your home.

“baby.”

“did you eat yet? i’ve been craving pizza from the place down the street we should put in an order.”

“babe.”

“or did you already cook? you’re right no point in spending money if we don’t have to.”

“y/n.” large hands held fast to your shoulders, spinning you around until you were face to face with eiji and being forced to stare into the eyes of the love of your life. “please. talk to me.”

a beat of silence as you bunched the front of his shirt in your fists, vision blurring from unspilled tears. then, “‘m so tired, eiji.”

he wrapped his arms around you and you told him everything. what your agency had demanded of you, the unending stress, the poisonous thoughts that ate away at you everyday. eiji held you together through it all, clinging so hard you could feel his body shake as you spoke.

“we’re gonna talk to your agency tomorrow. they’re pushing their best hero too hard and we’ll tell them to cut the publicity. the people already love you, you don’t have to put up with this.”

“you’ll come with me?” you sniffed. eiji pulled back enough to cup your cheeks, lifting your head up until your watery eyes met his.

“of course i will.” he said, wiping your tears with his thumb. “we’re in this together, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

you leaned into his touch, covering his hand with yours and marveling at the size difference. it never failed to fluster you how much bigger eiji was then you. your definition of safety started and ended with these hands, with the man they belonged to who had loyalty etched into his bones.

he held you like you were something worth protecting.

“i don’t deserve you.” you said, kissing his rough palm.

“don’t say that. don’t ever say that.” he leaned down until your foreheads pressed together and whispered, “do you know how much you mean to me?”

“i know.”

“let me remind you anyway.” with that he surged forward, closing the ever shortening distance between you as his mouth closed over yours.

every kiss with eiji was full of passion, even the chaste goodbyes you shared before heading to work but this one blew them away. he kissed you like he was trying to stitch together all your broken pieces. he kissed you as though he wouldn’t mind if this moment lasted an eternity. he kissed you and he kissed you and he kissed you.

and with everything you had left to give, you kissed him back.

when you broke apart, you had to bite back a moan at the sight before you. eiji looked sinful, red hair falling into his face, lips swollen and eyes locked on yours, dark and half lidded.

“we don’t… we don’t have to… you just got home you’re tired.” he said.

“eiji.” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck to whisper in his ear. “i need you.”

the world blurred as he lifted you up, legs locking around him on instinct as he carried you to the bedroom. a moment later you were dropped onto the soft mattress, feeling it dip as eiji settled over you. a familiar shyness tinged lust set in as he hovered above you. he was just so big. he was caging you in without even trying, he was that much larger than you. your breath hitched as he bent close to kiss your neck, looking anywhere but at him, something that didn’t escape his notice.

“where’d you go, pretty girl? eyes on me.” his voice left no room for disobedience and you complied, keeping your eyes on him as he asked. “there you are. tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“i like… being under you.”

eiji smirked, sharp teeth on full display. “yeah? what do you like about it? use your words for me, baby.”

you could tell how much he was enjoying making you squirm. he knew, of course, the effect he had on you. this was far from the first time your size difference came up in the bedroom but he loved making you say it nonetheless.

“i like that you’re bigger, eiji. you make me feel so safe.” your voice cracked at the honest.

he kissed the corner of your mouth. “always. i’ll die before i let you get hurt, understand me?”

he waits until you nod before snaking his hands under your shirt, removing it in one move. open mouth kisses trails down your neck to the valley between your tits. as much as you loved the foreplay he usually dished out, you were far too needy right now. you grabbed a fistful of his hair, guiding him lower down.

“baby, please.”

“so impatient.” he teased. he grabbed hold of your pants and panties, tugging them off before settling between your legs, one thrown over each of his broad shoulders.

“oh love you’re soaked. who got you this wet?” you let out a small whine of embarrassment, hoping he’d get the message and let you off the hook. a sharp sting on your inner thigh had you trying to close your legs around his head but his grip was too strong to do so. he bit you. eiji must’ve been as riled up as you were, he was always so mindful of his sharp teeth. “i asked you a question, didn’t i?”

“you! you did ‘s all for you eiji!”

“good girl.” he rewarded you by licking a broad stroke through your folds, ending with a flick on your clit that sent pleasure shooting through you. he pressed two fingers inside you with little struggle, scissoring you open to prep you for his cock. you desperately wanted to rock against his face but with one arm pinning your hips down, you could do nothing but take what he gave you.

you were close — so close and eiji, who knew your body better than you did, could feel it by the fluttering of your walls, the arch in your back. it was under his heavy gaze you came undone, thighs shaking as he rode you through your high. if you thought he looked sinful before, now he was downright pornographic, the evidence of your orgasm glistening on his face. he licked the remnants of your arousal of his fingers and grinned.

he pulled away long enough to remove his clothing while you took the time to unclasp your bra and admire the view that was your boyfriend stripping. he caught your blatant stare and winked as he pulled down his briefs, hard cock springing free.

“see something you like?” he said crawling back over you to kiss you, the taste of you still fresh on his tongue. you could feel his dick pressed against your thigh and you grinded against it, earning a delicious groan that spilled into your mouth. “fuck can you ride me baby please? wanna see you fuck yourself on my cock.”

when you nodded, he wrapped one arm beneath you and rolled, flipping you both over so you were straddling him. gripping his shoulders, you lined yourself up with him, slowly sinking down around his girth. eiji’s cock, like the rest of him, was stupid large and the stretch was always there when he entered you. but you relished the feeling all the more, a sense of pride bursting inside you when he managed to bottom out.

you closed your eyes for a moment until the uncomfortable burn dissipated and you were left feeling full, complete with him buried in you. when you opened up your eyes once more, eiji was looking up at you with the softest expression, one you’re familiar with but that made your face warm nonetheless. he looked at you with nothing but love and awe, the corner of his lips quirked in a small smile.

you held out your hands and eiji laced his fingers with yours, helping you balance as you began to bounce.

“there you go.” eiji grunted. “take what you need, i’m all yours.”

“all mine?” you clenched at the thought and he threw his head back at the feeling.

“all yours this cock belongs to you, pretty girl.”

the need to mark him as yours bubbled to the surface and you leaned in close, so close you were sharing air, panting into each other’s mouths.

“eiji.” you moaned, cut off when he bucked up suddenly. “f-fuck eiji i wanna spit in your mouth.”

he opened up without hesitation, tongue lolling out and waiting to receive you. you let the fluid trickle out, watching with fascination as it mixed with eiji’s. he swallowed and showed you his empty mouth.

“dirty girl, so fucking lewd you drive me crazy.” you were grinding your hips against his now, nearly crying from the friction against your clit.

“‘m gonna cum ‘m gonna cum.” you whined, powering through when your thighs began to shake from exhaustion. eiji placed his hands on your hips, guiding them back and forth.

“cum for me baby cum all over your cock.” his words were your undoing, tipping you over the edge as your orgasm washed over you. though you felt boneless after your high, you continued to rock against him.

“wanna feel you fill me up.” you said. “eiji please fuck me full of your cum.”

eiji knew everything about you but you knew him just as well, knew what words would stoke the fire in him and make him lose himself to the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him. and sure enough, he shifted to anchor his feet to the bed, wrapping his arms around you until your tits were pressed against him. he began to fuck up into you hard and fast, the wet smack so loud it made you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“i got you baby i’m gonna pump you so full of cum you’ll be leaking. that's what you want, huh? wanna walk around with my cum dripping down your leg?”

you could only moan in response, the quick pace turning your brain to mush and eiji seemed to sense it.

“did i fuck you dumb, pretty baby?” a smack landed in your ass and you yelped. “answer me.”

“i want your cum want it so bad, please eiji please.”

“that wasn’t hard. good girls get what they ask for.” he bucked up once, twice, three times, liquid heat spilling deep inside you. you shuddered at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of your, a mixture of both your cum dripping onto eiji.

for a moment you were both quiet, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “‘m gonna get us cleaned up, love.”

“in a minute i just wanna stay like this for a little bit. is that ok?”

“anything you want.” together you lay, eiji tracing shapes on your bare back, an eternal gratefulness for the man beneath you washing away all the negativity of the months prior. you knew as long as eiji was on your side, you would always be okay.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima imagine #bnha x reader #bnha smut #kirishima eijiro imagine #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro smut #mha smut #mha imagine #mha x reader #bnha imagine

782 notes · View notes

inncubus-honey · 2 years

Text

healing kisses

finally a hyunjin fic in this blog! also thank yall again for all the love my bang chan fic <3 i didn't expect it to blow like it did, but im soo glad yall liked it!

Word Count: 695

Hyunjin x gn!reader

"...and so when you do the jump, you have to keep your feet close-oh hello." hyunjins babbling was cut off as y/n entered his hospital room. an iv came from one of his hands and towards the machines next to the bed.

the poor nurse who had to listen to the hallucinating blonde boy for the past 10 minutes took her opportunity to leave, she shoots y/n a thankful smile as she shuts the door behind the couple.

"who are you? are you my doctor? if so then you're a very pretty doctor." y/n took a chair next to hyunjins bed to which said boy gave his signature gummy smile.

doe's eyes disappeared into his cheeks as they moved with the smile. gently he felt a hand hold his, their thumb rubbing against his knuckles.

"no, lovebug. im here to pick you up. how are you feeling?" hyunjins eyes popped open in awe of y/n at their words. soft giggles echoed off the walls of the resting room, hyunjin fuzzy head overloaded on the lovey words from his partner.

"really? you're here for me; are we dating or something? wait, i must be dead if they sent the prettiest angel to me." y/n hid laughs behind their free hand. a pout formed onto the boys plump lips as he heard the laughs from y/n, no matter how hard they tried to hide them.

"a-are you laughing at m-me? do you think i-im u-ugly or something?" his pout got bigger as tears welled up in boba eyes. y/n matched his pout, moving their hand that occupied his onto his chest.

slowly they rubbed his chest like they did his hand, hyunjin turned from a pouty baby to purring cat as a warm feeling flooded through his chest.

"no, lovebug. its just you're so cute that it makes me happy." leaning over from their spot, y/n pressed many little kisses over hyunjins face.

his giggles echoed off the walls again. his much larger hands cupped y/ns face with such a tender touch as smiles spread from one to another. but sadly as soon as they started, y/n pulled away from the ferrets face and back into their seat. hyunjin let out soft whines as he didnt want the kisses to end.

"yes. we've been dating for two and half years." the way hyunjin watched their eyes meet their cheeks as they smiled and how normal it felt to hold their hand. or how warm his head and chest began as he stared into their eyes.

hyunjin realized that he didn't need morphine to feel high. he could just stare at y/n and it would have the same effect; he wanted forever to admire his y/n and their own level of ethereal beauty.

"so, did they send an angel to heal me? w-was it those k-kisses you gave me i-if so can you give me more, miss angel?" he gave a small pull at y/ns arm, trying his best to sit up in the bed. but the pull of pain at his side forced him back down with a groan.

"you gotta be careful, jinnie. you'll rip the stitches, if not." y/n gently pushed hyunjin back down. carefully moving the blanket, they checked on the incision.

"b-but can i have more k-kisses, please?"

"one more for now." y/n gave a peck on hyunjins plump lips. they had to pull away to go find the doctor for the release papers to take the giggly ferret home.

y/n was thankful that hyunjin would not remember any of this when the medicine wore off. this would be their own special memory of hyunjin that she could think about whenever she was feeling down.

"well i wasn't lying! you're an angel!" hyunjin shouted from his spot on the bed. y/n was fixing their bookshelf on the other side.

"stop, jinnie! you know how i feel when you get like this.." they turned their back to him so he wouldn't be able to see their flushed cheeks.

"i regret telling you everything, you little ferret!"

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids imagines #gn reader #stray kids fluff #honey writings

19 notes · View notes

unknownwriting · 3 years

Note

Hiiiii, can I request of Ace survived b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ f̶u̶c̶k̶ A̶k̶a̶i̶n̶u̶ and his s/o was pregnant with his child then after 2 years of time skip (they don't know Ace survived) can please Luffy & Sabo reunited with Ace, to his s/o and child and having family moments 🥺🥺🥺 👉👈

ｓｕｍｍａｒｙ- requested ^^

ｗｏｒｄｃｏｕｎｔ - 2.9 k, i honeslty could write a whole book

ｓｏｎｇｉｎｓｐｏ- i love you - billie eilish

ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ - Portgas D. Ace, Sabo, Monkey D. Luffy

ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ - None :)

ａ/ｎ- my sense of time is fucked. I could’ve swore it was Tuesday...but i still had a lot of fun writing this. I cried half the time but Ace 🥺🥺 so I hope you enjoy

(unedited)

“The weeds!! The weeds Luffy!! Not the flowers!” (Y/n) shouted as she leaned out the kitchen window. Even then Luffy still began to yank out the barely budding roses. For as much as he wanted to do the garden, Luffy sucks at it. (Y/n) eyes trailed over to the small pile of weeds and roses, where Luffy continued to toss the roses in. Let out a heavy sigh, (Y/n) called out to him again, “Luffy! Not the roses!”

“Huh?” Luffy hummed as he looked up and around before finally making eye contact with (Y/n). She scoffed at her absent-minded brother-in-law as she stated again,

“Your weeding the weeds, not the roses.”

“Eh? But they all look the same?” Luffy hummed as he looked back to the pile of weeds and roses then back to the rosebuds in his hands.

“See the little green ball on top of that the stem, those are roses that have yet to bloom. Those need to stay in the ground so they can bloom, what your getting is the other green plants.” (Y/n) explained as she pointed down the weeds that surrounded the roses. Luffy’s eyes followed as he began to finally see the difference between the 2. And with a chuckle, Luffy had gone back to work pulling out only the weeds this time. (Y/n) scoffed once again as she leaned back from the window and turned around on her heel and looked back at her blonde brother-in-law. She was so grateful for Sabo and Luffy. They sat through everything with her and supported her throughout it too. Keeping her safe and healthy when she found out about Ace’s death, being there to help her through her pregnancy even sitting with her through her labor, and even now they still come and visit her regularly, checking up on her and her family. The trio of brothers are the best people she has ever met. Brightening her smile, she shook her head and began to walk past them.

“Ya’know for as much as Luffy wanted to do the garden, you’d think he’s at least how to do it.” (Y/n) sighed as she made her way next to Sabo at the table. She had taken a spot right next to him and picked up the pair of pants she was stitching back together. Sabo continued to shuffle through some paper as he glanced over at (Y/n) and chuckled.

“Well, you pretty much banned him from doing anything else. The garden is the only thing Luffy can do now.” Sabo pointed out, taking the pile of papers in his hands and setting them to the side, then began working on the other pile.

“...It’s his fault for being so reckless. If he’s your brother you should’ve raised him better.” (Y/n) huffed, cutting the string off the pants and tying them up. (Y/n) was currently fixing a pair of Estelle’s pants that were destroyed when he and Luffy were playing. It wouldn’t be a big of a problem if it wasn’t one of Estelle’s good pants. It was one of the best days Estelle had though, so it was easy for (Y/n) not to get too mad.

“Ace was the one who was the closest to him. I lost my memories although that time.” Sabo answered, as his gaze shifted down to the paperwork

“Looks like Imma have to call Ace out on that then-”

“Mama!!” A loud voice had shouted as the door to the small house swung open and a small (h/c) colored child had rushed in. (Y/n) was quick to drop the pants and open her arms to greet home her child.

“Estelle! Welcome back, baby.” (Y/n) smiled brightly as she gave a huge hug to her child. Estelle giggled and happily hugged back. Estelle wasn’t gone for long, only about 3 hours but it was easy to tell that he missed his mom. He definitely takes after his dad, being a very family-orientated person. Standing up from her chair, she pulled away from Estelle yet keeping him on her hip, she smiled, “We’re you nice to Doctor Cherry?”

“Yeah, she even gave me a candy.” Estelle proudly shouted as he stuck out his tongue and showed (Y/n) its blue color.

“Wow, You must’ve been such a good boy. I bet Dcotor Cherry was happy to spend the day with you.” (Y/n) smiled, as she set Estelle back on the floor and looked up at the red-haired lady that stood at the door.

“Of course, Estelle’s one of my best patients.” Cherry smiled as she looked down at Estelle. Estelle giggled loudly as grinned up from his mother's side. Cherry was another person who stood by (Y/n) when she was going through such a hard time, helping (Y/n) nurse back to health and helped a lot with the pregnancy. She was another that was close like family. As Cherry took a step into the house, she had opened her mouth to speak again but Sabo and Luffy were quick to interrupt.

“You’re not even gonna say hi to your uncles. Estelle, you make us so sad.” Sabo teased as he and Luffy walked up to join (Y/n). Quickly turning around to the sound of the voices, Estelle smiled brightly again.

“Uncle Sabo, Uncle Luffy!!” Estelle shouted as he jumped into their arms. The boys were quick to hug back and spoil Estelle in all types of affections. (Y/n) smiled at the view, that's one of the many things that she wants Estelle to learn that no matter what family is always important. With Estelle already being a very family-oriented person, it seemed that (Y/n) didn’t have much of a lesson to teach. Giggling to herself, (Y/n) turned back to Cherry to see what she was gonna say early. Once Cherry had seen that (Y/n) was back on her, she began again,

“Someone was asking around for you early today. I’m not sure who, but he seemed almost desperate.” Cherry explained as she watched (Y/n) face twist into shock and just for a moment, there was a huge flash of hope in her eyes that seemed to cloud her judgment for a moment. It was for a brief moment, but even with that flash of hope Cherry could tell that (Y/n) wants, more like needs, to see who it is.

“Asking for (Y/- Ow!!” Sabo hisses as he quickly pulled his arm towards him and began to rub the red spot that Estelle pinched, “He’s still in his pinching phase? I thought we were over that.”

“With Estelle? Of course not, he still goes around pinching everything and everyone. I’ve been trying to get him to stop but he doesn’t want to. I’m surprised that you thought he grew ou-”

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!! My nipples!!” Luffy cried as he pushed Estelle away from him. With the pain still written over his face, Luffy cupped his nipples and hissed. (Y/n) laughed as she watched Luffy sit there trying to soothe the pain running through him.

“Yeah no, he’s still pinching.” (Y/n) laughed before her, and Sabo, both turned back to Cherry and continued to question her.

“Who’s looking for (Y/n)?” Sabo questioned. It was easy to tell that his overprotectiveness was kicking him. The only response that Sabo got from Cherry was a shrug and then slowly walking out of the house as if to lead the others. Sabo then turned to look at (Y/n) asking the same question to which (Y/n) only ended up shrugging too.

“I’m not sure. Sail with Ace and Whitebeard-san I’ve met a lot of people, so I don’t know.”

Sabo hummed in response as he began to follow Cherry outside. Something inside of (Y/n) made her so anxious, but something has her heart racing, palms sweating, and her legs aching. Something about this guest just had her body aching, as if she couldn’t sit still. In the back of her mind, a small voice continued to echo, but there was no way it could be true. He’s dead, he passed away 2 years ago. Last time (Y/n) you can’t raise the dead either. So with one last shaky sigh, (Y/n) began to make her way out the door and towards Sabo and Cherry. Trying to push back her feelings, it’s like this every time, always getting her hopes up only for them to come crashing down. She tries to keep her cool.

“So, does it look like anyone we know?” (Y/n) questioned, as she took a spot next to Sabo’s side. Sabo let out a small grunt as he squinted his eyes to see the figure. (Y/n) had followed suit. Just at the bottom of the hill stood a man with broad shoulders. He looked around confused as he stumbled around the bottom of the hill. A soft laugh left her lips as she watched him, he looks so out of place.

“I-I-I….I don’t wanna jump to conclusions here, (Y/n), but doesn’t that look like-“

It didn’t take long for the man to make eye contact with the 2 at the top of the hill. He starred for a moment as if he was taking in the view before he smiles brightly and slowly began to make his way up. As if the world has stopped around (Y/n). That smile. That was the same smile that started this whole adventure, that made her happy even on the saddest days, that was the same smile that she fell in love with. It was hard to believe. As if time itself has stopped, (Y/n) stood there speechless. She couldn’t even muster a sound or a reaction. Something like this never happens, maybe one in a million but last time she checked the skeleton on Luffy’s crew was the one. This was impossible, it had to be a prank or something. This couldn’t be happening and just as (Y/n) had open her mouth and rat at the person standing below them a laugh echoed through the field. It was real, this is all real. That laugh was one she couldn’t and wouldn’t forget. That laugh belongs to her later lover,

“Ace.” Breathlessly and barely above a whisper was all she could do. She was scared if she said it any loud she would have started to cry right there. (Y/n) began to inch forwards slowly trying to wake her body up and tell it to move. God, if only she could wake it up faster. Soon enough those baby steps turn into bigger ones then fast ones, then finally she was running. She was running as fast as her feet could carry her down the hill. Tears swiftly fell from her eyes as she made her way to her lover. Maybe dreams do come true. After all these days, weeks, months of wishing, her wish came true. And even now it’s better than what she wished for.

Not being able to stop herself and not even trying to, (Y/n) jumped straight into Ace’s warm embrace for the first time in years. Automatically (Y/n) inhales deeply taking in Ace’s smell of burnt ambers and sunk deeper into his strong and warm embrace. By now she couldn’t help the waterworks from coming. Neither could Ace, the 2 of them held each other close, taking in each other scent and loving embrace. As if this moment latest forever, the 2 of them didn’t let go for as long as they could. However, (Y/n) can only cry so much into his shoulder before taking a deep breath. So barely pulling away and with a red-eyed and snot-filled face, (Y/n) smiled as she tried to speak up the loudest and clearest she could.

“Y-y-y-your… you’re alive!! Ace is alive. Your alive!!” (Y/n) cried as she tried to call out to the others however your attention was all on Ace. She was scared that if she looked away he would disappear, so she kept her around him and locked her eyes with his.

“I’m alive. I’m really alive.” Ace sobbed back keeping his eyes locked with (Y/n)’s. She didn’t even care if his voice has reached them, she doesn’t want it to reach them. All she wants is to be with Ace now. Smiling through her tears, she pulled her hand up to Ace’s cheeks and began to rub her thumb against his freckled cheeks feeling his rough skin against hers. Ace, still through his tears, smiled and hummed as he leads into her hand, enjoying the softness and warmth her hands had provided. This moment should last forever, they both wished. Just as (Y/n) has dropped her hand to his chest and was able to lean in to kiss his lips that she wanted to feel and taste once again, 2 pairs of very loud footsteps came behind them. Before the 2 of them could even react, 2 bodies came crashing down onto them.

“Ace!!” The 2 of them sobbed as all of the 4 bodies fell over in the grass. Both Luffy’s and Sabo’s sobs could be heard for miles, like (Y/n) and Ace, they couldn’t hold back their tears. So all 4 of them laid on the ground and just sobbed, they couldn’t do anything else. Each one of them held onto the other with such an iron grip, it was hard to breathe but nobody wanted to move. The only time they moved was when Ace pulled back and started at Sabo for a while trying to figure out who it was.

“S-s...sabo. Y-you’re alive too?!!” Ace gasped as he could feel more tears falling. Sabo looked up and smile at him, nodding. And Just with that simple nod both of the boys began to cry even harder and the hug got tighter. This whole hug was a mess, they were all crying loudly. People in the village soon came to even check on them but none of them cared. After 2 years each of their dreams had come true and nothing else mattered.

“Welcome home, Ace.”

“Luffy don’t-!” (Y/n) tried to protest all she wanted, but as soon as she had put down the food, Luffy was all over it. And taking after his uncle, Estelle was right there digging into the food with Luffy. Let a heavy sigh past her lips as she walked back into the kitchen to get the rest of the food.

“Oi! Luffy save some for us!!” Ace’s voice rang through the house as a loud thump followed along with Luffy groaning in pain. Like music to her ears, hearing Ace’s voice once again causes (Y/n) so much happiness and relief. Having her black-haired lover back is the best feeling in the world.

After all 4 of them had somehow managed to stop the tears, they didn’t spend a moment from each other. Where ever one went the others always followed because they were all scared that if they left then Ace would disappear. Although, out of the whole reunion, being able to reunite Estelle with his father was the best part. Luckily he’s only 2 so things weren’t awkward and he was able to quickly adapt to Ace. Being again to finally introduce Ace to his son and Estelle to his father was by far the best part. It only made (Y/n) cry even more.

“Hey, Daddy you can’t hit Uncle Luffy. Mama will get mad at you.” Estelle laughed as he waved around the bone. Even the word was foreign to Ace, it still took him a while to get used to even being a dad. But after staring at Estelle for a moment, just taking in the fact that Estelle’s actually his kid. Ace chuckled and smiled.

“Oh, will she now? Last time I check, I think I can handle your mother when she’s angry.” Ace chuckled as he leads back in his chair and crossed his arms. She could cry just looking at him. After all these years he hasn’t changed a bit. Messy black hair, freckled skin, a huge smile that could light up the room. The only thing that had changed, was the giant burn mark on his stomach. It was huge and very upsetting but it’s not like Ace didn’t have scars from before. With one last shaky breath, (Y/n) pushed back any sadness she had and quickly replaced it with joy. There is no way (Y/n) was gonna be sad.

“You better think again fire boy.” (Y/n) had stated as she hit the back of his head while she took a seat next to him at the table. Ace hissed at the pain while Estelle laughed in response. Sabo and Luffy were quick to follow in suit. All their laughter sounded like music to her ear. There really wasn’t anything else she could wish for. Ace was back, she’s having dinner with her family, and she was happy. It was all too perfect, it was almost like this whole thing was a dream. God, (Y/n) was terrified that it was all just a dream. The thought of having them go back to a time where Ace was gone and that-

“Ouch.” (Y/n) hissed as she grabbed her arm. Looking over next to her, she saw Estelle gigging up at her. Estelle and his pinches are gonna be the death of her.

“You so deserve that for early. Good job, Estelle, you’re learning quickly.” Ace laughed out loud as he looked over at his son. Estelle smiled bright and laughed along with him. (Y/n) couldn’t even be mad, but she wasn’t about to let Ace get away with it.

“Oh, you watch it, because last time I checked Estelle was still a mommy’s boy just like his father.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #Portgas D. Ace #sabo #monkey d. luffy #portgas d ace x reader

185 notes · View notes

skellebonez · 3 years

Note

Can you one about Cursed AU with father(kind of overprotective) Macaque and Mk with prompt 79 please?

This is set after they get back because you know... some scars are kind of hard to see under fur. (I may or may not have used one of my headcanons for Mac here just because this is a fill and not a specific scene meant to be in the AU.) The Cursed AU is by @winterpower98 !

Warning: mentioned child neglect, description of bad childhood injury, mentioned life threatening injury (but not to the same character). No graphic description.

How did you get that scar?

Macaque wasn’t entirely surprised he had never noticed the scar before. Sure, he had naturally seen the back of MK’s neck before, especially when he’d have to treat wounds on their now completed journey, but he never made it a point to really look at it in detail. Why would he before now? Now he had a reason, given the nasty gash along the lower back of his neck and upper back he’d gotten from a recent battle with other demons, and it was a lot more noticeable without mussed up fur and loose hair let down from his headband blocking the scar tissue from being seen.

A growl sounded from the back of his throw, low and soft as he tried to not let the other hear it. He attempted to keep his voice level, not let anything show through it just yet. “How did you get that scar?”

“Huh?” MK sounded off in confusion, barely turning around to glance at Macaque before recognition lit in his eyes. “OH! You mean this one?” He raised his hand, finger brushing against the mark. It wasn’t particularly big and it was actually partly hidden by some of the loose hair on the back of his head, but as MK parted the hair a bit Macaque could see it was bigger than he had originally thought. “I, uh, I got that when I was little.”

“How little?” Macaque asked, and there was no hiding the small amount of venom that seeped into his words. He didn’t allow his anger at the memory of how he was told MK’s parents treated him move far enough to affect his work, however, as he meticulously held pressure to the cut he had finally cleaned and applied medicine to. It should be fine, once he applied proper dressing, with no need for stitches if the second round of medicine worked as intended.

"Like... 6ish?" MK answered after a moment of thought, nodding his head slightly as he put his hand down. "Yeah, I think I just turned 6 cause I'm pretty sure it was after my birthday."

"And what happened?" Macaque lifted the pressure gauze just a bit to see if the bleeding had stopped, not enough to remove it from the wound, and when he was happy with the result he grabbed tape and bandages and more gauze to finish dressing it. "If you don't mind answering."

"I don't... really remember," MK said softly, squirming a bit as Macaque accidentally pulled the gauze. "I remember what the doctors told me. I'd been home alone, I heard my dad yelling something when he got home... and then I woke up in the hospital. Apparently I'd fallen down the stairs and hit a lamp and some of it got... stuck. I passed out when I saw the blood and had a panic attack."

At the mention of his father Macaque couldn't help but growl again, unable to hide its volume. He wasn't particularly fond of his parents at the best of times, but it seemed the more he learned about them the more there was to dislike them for than original thought. "At least you were treated." His tone gave away his frustration he felt.

"Yeah," MK agreed, tensing suddenly in confusion as Macaque's hands moved from the back of his neck to his hair. His confusion seemed to disappear as soon as his fingers started moving in a familiar motion, grooming through his hair for dirt and bugs and anything else that might be in there. Macaque was hardly aware he was doing this. "Yeah, I ended up being ok, obviously. But now I've got that scar and a knowledge that I have panic attacks and I make sure to look before I accidentally fall down stairs!”

Macaque did it before he realized what he was doing, and he would never admit it if asked and would deny it until the day he died, but he wrapped his arms around MK and growled again before those growls became something else. Something softer. A purr.

“Listen, Kid, it’s a good thing you’re ok and all,” Macaque said, tail thumping away beside them. “But maybe it’s not a good idea to talk about grievous bodily injury so casually.”

“Didn’t you show me one of the scars on your back and tell me ‘and this is where I was impaled 356 years ago’ when Monkey King almost threw me into a tree yesterday?” MK asked with a chuckle.

“That’s different and you know it,” Macaque defended haughtily, tail thumping harder and purr loudening as MK laughed at him. “I can come back from impalement, you can’t, I needed to demonstrate.”

“Sure you did,” MK acquiesced with a smile, reaching up and patting one of Macaque’s arms around him softly. “Thanks for... you know, patching me up. And listening to me. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it, Kid. Literally.” Macaque removed his arms from MK, scowl evident on his face as he helped the younger to his feet. He handed him back his jacket and scarf and crossed his arms as he watched him put them on with only slight difficulty. “I’ll come find you when it’s time to change the bandage and then you’ll be able to just leave it for another day. You should be fine in a couple days. And one last thing,” Macaque said, closing his eyes with a softer half a scowl now on his face. “Don’t die.”

“No promises, Pops!” MK said before rushing off, and he completely missed the caught off guard and comically wide eyed expression on Macaque’s face.

The Kid called him “Pops”... he needed to talk to Wukong immediately.

END AUTHOR’S NOTE: I may or may not have lost an hour of time looking for this specific set of art just because I wanted to know what MK called Mac...

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #cursed au #prompt fill #six eared macaque #mk #qi xiaotian #demon purr

350 notes · View notes

hornedsimp · 3 years

Note

Ayeee its ya boi, schlatt addict-

So last year I got my foot caught in a bear trap, and I was just thinking about if the reader got hurt during a fight with another mc youtuber (in game ofc) and schlatt finds them really badly hurt, and he has to take care of them. Bc they can't walk and ya know ✨b l o o d✨

So yeah thats my idea, peace ✌

Oh dear god, I hope that everything it’s alright with your leg now!

Thanks for taking the time to request this, it’s so soft and I love it so much!

I hope you like it!

--------------------------------

Jschlatt x Reader (Fluff)

--------------------------------

Warnings: Cursing, mention of alcohool, light level of violence at the beggining.

That's what I got, but if you see anything that you want me to put in the warnings please let me know

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You had gotten into a pretty bad fight with Willbur after Schlatt had announced the festival, you were walking around the city, to make sure everything was fine when you had spotted him at the top of a tree, his eyes once so caring filled with rage.

You knew that wasn't the Willbur you met long ago, and since you were on Schlatt's side now, you went to confront him, it didn't end up well for you.

No one was expecting to fight on the day of the announcement, for that reason you weren't with your netherite armor, only wearing the black suit you liked so much to seem more serious.

It was a pretty suit, yes, but it didn't work well against arrows and a diamond sword, granted, you couldn't even imagine how Willbur got his hands on a diamond sword when he was wearing the dirtiest outfit you've seen in ages.

Nonetheless, the fight dragged through the forest, as both of you were screaming at each other, Willbur trying to make you see how he was the victim of the system, trying to get back to the country he loved so much, while you were trying to explain why the rules were made to keep him away.

When he stopped trying to convince you that he wasn't doing anything bad, and started to attack you with more rage than before, you knew you were right since the beginning, Willbur had gone mad in his exile.

He shouted curses at you, throwing punches in your direction until he could trip you and hold you down on the ground, he got his sword with hands trembling, a dangerous smile on his face as he put the sword at the top of your chest, you tried to move, tears forming in your eyes as you screamed trying to get him to lose his balance so you could escape.

It was to no avail, you could feel the sword slowly making contact with your skin, the pain running through your skin slowly, almost taunting you to do something to stop it.

You bit hard on the inside of your cheeks, tasting your own blood trying to not focus on the pain, it would only get worst and worst, you closed your eyes waiting for the blackness to swallow you whole right after Wilbur pierced through your chest, but the void never came to take you out.

What came instead was another sudden wave of pain, this time concentrating on your leg, as you opened your eyes, you could see the blood running through your chest, but what got your attention, was the sword impelled at your leg, there was blood everywhere, your clothes ripped in many places where Willbur had attacked you.

And thinking about the devil, he was gone, no words or apologies, no shadow lurking behind the trees to see if you would survive, simply gone.

As the adrenaline in your body started to go down, and the pain got bigger, your eyes started to close, they felt too heavy, but you knew deep down you couldn't pass out from the pain in the middle of the forest, so you did the only thing you could think of.

You called Schlatt for help, since your arms weren't too damaged to move, you grasp on the small string of consciousness to open the message board everyone could use as a sort of direct link to each other.

Typing out your coordinates you pressed sent, letting your hands fall limp close to your body, and finally letting yourself crave the dark embrace that awaited for you, telling yourself that it would be fine once schlatt found you, your vision turned dark, and you blacked out.

-------------------------------------------------------

When you woke up again, you were in a large room, in a massive bed, with lots of blankets organized messily around you, there was an enormous window from where you could see Manberg in all of its glory, as you were trying to get a better view by moving, the door of the room opened, revealing schlatt, with a tired expression carrying a small plate with what seemed to be mushroom soup.

"What the fuck you think you're doing woman?" He asked with his loud voice practically running to your side.

"Trying to get up?" You asked still trying to move your body to at least sit on the bed more comfortably.

"Yeah that's the fucking problem dumb bitch, you can't move or else the stitches can get worst." Schlatt argued putting the plate on the bed table at your side.

He pulled the blankets off of you so you could see the white bandages covering your leg, quickly you pulled your shirt a little so you could peek at your chest, there was also white bandages firmly wrapped in your torso, you looked at schlatt, feeling your face get hot as you pieced together the pieces of what probably had happened after you blacked out alone in the forest.

Before you could say anything about the whole situation though, Schlatt let out a sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Don't ever think about that, I asked Nikki to help with the bandages, and she is the one that dresses you up on some spare clothes she had with her."

You could feel yourself relax at that, nodding your head slightly Schlatt approached you, moving his hands so he could support your torso and pull you up, making you sit on the bed, after making sure you were comfortable enough the hybrid handed you the small plate with the soup.

"Nikki thinks you're going to be able to walk in two weeks, but if you have any problem with the wound, it can take three weeks or more, you can stay here while you're healing." Schlatt says before leaving the room.

You blink a few after he leaves, your face still a little hot as you think about how careful he held you to help you move your body, deciding to not give yourself a headache thinking about it, you start to eat the soup, only to be interrupted again by Schallat entering the room.

He was carrying a shit ton of magazines and random books, the hybrid crossed the room to come to the other side of the bed and let all of the magazines down at your side, he sat right beside you and moved the magazines around so you could see all of the titles.

" I also thought... you could get bored, so I got some shit for you to read if you want to." Schlatt said with a proud smile.

You could only smile in return and offer a quiet "thanks" as you went back to eat the soup, after you finished Schlatt quickly took the place and went out to the kitchen as you moved around a little, picking a random magazine you moved the others away so there could be more space for the president in the bed.

You knew he wouldn't leave your side, not until you were completely okay again, he was just looking out for you in his way, standing close and making sure you wouldn't have any problem in your recovery.

Just as you expected, he came back soon after leaving the plate at the sink, he sat once again beside you, putting his head at your shoulder you hummed quietly, moving your hand so you could caress the side of his face.

You had learned long ago that the ram hybrid was pretty touch starved, although he kept the charade of a tough guy that doesn't need anything else other than his whiskey, you've been on his side for what seemed like forever now.

Schlatt took your hand, placing a soft kiss on your wrist before moving his head, headbutting you lightly to gain your attention, you moved your gaze from the current magazine on your lap to his face.

"Don't ever do this again to me alright?" He said in a more serious tone, his fingers tracing the lines of your hand.

"Okay, I'll make sure to not get hurt again to take up your bed." You snorted with a small smile forming on your face.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't give me another heart attack like this one, I thought I lost you when you sent the coordinates and didn't answer when I asked what was happening." He held your hands more firmly, afraid that you would suddenly vanish right in front of his eyes.

Placing a small kiss on his temples you smiled with confidence, headbutting him lightly like how he had done moments ago.

"Don't worry, I promise to do my best to not get stabbed again."

That got Schlatt to laugh as he gave you some more space, squeezing your hand he moved on the bed, sticking his legs out and pushing a blanket over himself.

"You better do your fucking best alright, now, let's talk shit about those magazine people, and how they look so uncomfortable in the covers."

#dream smp #IGDSMP #c!schlatt #c!schlatt x reader #imagine

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draconic-ichor · 3 years

Text

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 23: Desperate Passions

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, oral sex, penetrative sex, nipple play, nipple piercings, scars/stitches, fingering

Summary: Juniper is fully healed and ready to get back to one of their favorite hobbies!

Feedback appreciated. 18+. This is a smut heavy chapter

“What are we having tonight, love?” Heisenberg asked, sitting back in the wooden chair. He had returned from working to find her over the stove, a simmering pot filling the apartment with a delicate fragrance.

“Pilaf.” She answered sweetly.

“Ah…alright.” Heisenberg nodded, her answer not making anything more clear to him.

He cut open a cigar, lighting it and bringing it to his lips as he watched her.

She pulled two deep plates out of the cabinet, looking towards him, “Get anything exciting made today?”

He made a prideful rumble, speaking through the cigar, “Mhm. The Soldat Zwei is almost finished. Give the bastard one, maybe two, good days of work and he should be up.”

“They are the ones with two drills right?”

“Correct. Moved the reactor core to the back as well.”

“When are you starting the….the Pan..pan?” She couldn’t find the words, placing a glass of water and silverware on the table.

“The Panzer?”

“Yea that one! They looked big.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it will be.” He gave a devilish smile, “Gotta wait till I get a bastard built like a shit brick house for that one.”

“Like Sturm?” She scooped food into the deep plates.

“Unfortunately…yes.” He frowned, that creature still brought him nothing but grief.

Juniper placed a plate before him, before taking a seat with her own.

Fuck me…what is this?

Heisenberg gulped looking at the meal. It was a pile of rice with chicken, carrots, mushrooms and herbs mixed in. It smelled normal and appetizing but left much to be desired to the eyes.

Juniper took a bite, looking at him through narrow eyes.

“Love, did you make bread as well?” He asked hopefully.

“No, there’s rice in here.” She pointed her fork at him, “And vegetables. Eat it.”

He made a little grumble, tucking into his food. It tasted good, the rice made with the broth from the chicken and the herbs giving it a homely taste.

…Thank god.

Heisenberg thought, mercifully, as he started eating with more gusto. Juniper loved to cook, and loved seeing him eat what she made even more. But her passion for the craft was almost matched with her desire to strive to make each meal healthy. Even if it meant throwing in things that tasted like death to pack more nutrients into every meal.

Heisenberg didn’t know if it was her trying to curb his lack of anything healthy or some Devine force punishing him for his terrible daily diet for decades. In any case, it was a small price to pay for her happiness.

He finished his plate, even going back for a second. On the way back to his seat he paused, giving Juniper a soft pat on top of her head with his free hand. She beamed up at him.

They spoke more of his upcoming Soldat plans over dinner. Heisenberg explained how the Panzers should be immune to most types of damage, save for heavier explosions. They would be risky to produce and time consuming but a good last line of defense.

“Will all the armor put stress on the core?” Juniper asked.

He nodded, “I’ll have to use the bigger exhaust port like on Sturm but take in the energy production per energy draw to the multiple drills.”

“So they don’t overheat?”

“Precisely. I don’t want them spitting fire like the big boy.” Heisenberg pointed out.

After Juniper cleaned up the mess from dinner, Heisenberg ushered her into the bathroom. She followed him, used to this routine, she pulled her dress off and sat on the sink. Heisenberg leaned on his palms against the counter on either side of her, dipping in to give her a kiss. She deepened the contact, hands finding the sleeves of his button up shirt.

He gave a happy little rumble, pulling away enough to inspect her incision. She sat still, waiting as he looked her over with a critical eye. The infection was completely gone, the tissue a healthy healing pink.

“I can probably remove the stitches, if you’d like.” He concluded.

“Please.” She almost begged, “They itch.”

He stood, chuckling, “Itching is good, means it’s healing.”

He retrieved a sharp pair of scissors, pouring a bit of peroxide over the blades before kneeling before her once more. With careful cuts he snipped through the stitches, pulling them free with deft fingers.

He tossed them away one by one into the trash can. Juniper watched him with big eyes.

“Will it scar?” Juniper asked quietly.

“Afraid so, Darling.” Heisenberg frowned.

Her eyes looked glassy, glancing over the pinkish new tissue.

Heisenberg took her face in his hands, lifting her chin up to meet his gaze. She wilted a bit.

"What's up?" He asked, concern in his gaze.

"Hmm…" She almost didn't answer, looking away, "I don’t want you to think I’m ugly…I have really bad scars…”

“Are you fucking serious.” Heisenberg’s lips were a fine line, “Look at me.”

She met his eyes, him correcting her, “No look at all of me. Look at all the shit my body has been through.”

Her eyes wavered, scanning him over. He was covered in scars, his skin was a patchwork of pearlescent lattice, even his face sporting a few.

“I am a scarred, fucked up old man.” He said plainly, “You are so fucking beautiful. A few scars can’t change that.”

Her eyes watered, cheeks growing rosey.

His face split with a grin, “Have I ever hesitated to bend your ass over every flat surface in this factory?”

“…no.” She mumbled.

“Don’t you even start to think I don’t find you sexy as all hell, ok love?”

“Mmmm.”

“What?”

“You haven’t bent me over anything in months.” Juniper pouted in his hands.

Heisenberg looked at her a moment before throwing back his head and barking out with laughter.

“You were healing!” He bared his teeth playfully, “But you’re all fixed up now, how about I show you how much you drive me fucking wild?”

Juniper smiled, nuzzling into his cupped hands, “Please, master?”

“Oh Honey.” He almost purred, “Keep that up and you’ll be bedridden again.”

They made their way back to the bedroom, Heisenberg catching her up in a messy kiss. While she was distracted he removed the rest of her clothing, backing her up until her calves touched the bed.

He lightly pushed her back, Juniper making a little ‘oof’ as she hit the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows, smiling as Heisenberg fell to his knees before her.

He didn’t dive straight into her heat like she expected, instead pulling her by the ankles closer to the edge.

His eyes were dark and hungry as he dipped his head in to drop rough kisses up the length of her leg. Juniper shivered at the heat of his mouth as he trailed ever closer to the place she wanted him desperately.

His lips lingered on the softness of her inner thigh, sucking a dark blotch there. He pulled free with a wet pop, meeting her gaze. She was already flushed.

“I’m going to have to re-mark my claim on you.” He almost purred the words.

“Make me yours in every way.” She spoke sweetly.

“I plan to.” He promised, kissing upwards.

He dropped a kiss just above her clit, smiling when her breath hitched. She made a little sound of want when he pulled away, thrusting her hips up in an effort to urge him back. Heisenberg growled as his large hands found her legs, pushing her down against the bed.

Juniper whimpered, watching him move higher.

He kissed along her scar, eyes flicking up to meet hers. The new tissue was sensitive under his lips, his beard making her skin prickle.

“Fucking perfect.” He concluded when he covered its length, his hands forcing her thighs more apart, “Every part.”

“…stop.” Juniper’s cheeks reddened further.

“Oh no.” He gave a devilish smile, “No mercy for you my little wifey.”

She gave a little mewl at his tone, her core clenching air.

“I was looking forward to dessert all night.” His face split with a mirthful grin.

“Then come get it!” She bared her teeth a bit playfully

Heisenberg dove into her sex, eating her like a starving man. He was messy and forceful, causing her to melt in seconds. He growled into her flesh, already feeling her tighten under him. He pulled away, scoring his thumb over her clit as he licked slick from his lips, “Already such a damn mess for me.”

“It’s…it’s been a w-while.” She spoke between pants.

“Too long.” He agreed, going back in.

He made sure to pull multiple orgasms from her with only his mouth and hands, stopping every so often to trail kisses up her abdomen. She was breathy and blissed out, completely forgetting her earlier self-consciousness.

He stood, giving her a moment of mercy. Juniper watched him, breasts quaking as she regained her breath. Her skin was already glistening with a light sheen of sweat, stray onyx curls stuck to her forehead. Heisenberg slowly removed each layer of clothing, almost making a show of it under her hungry gaze.

Finally kicking off his boxers he crawled onto the bed. The bed creaked under their combined weight as he loomed over her.

Juniper eager hands found him quickly, squeezing the thick ropes of muscle that made his arms.

“Pretty impressive eh?” He smirked cockily.

Her fingers slid upwards, fanning over his chest. She gave him a little devilish look as she found his only nipple piercing.

His breath hitched a bit as she toyed with it; coming almost unglued entirely when her head quickly dipped in to take the metal into her mouth.

The movement was almost too fast for him to react before the sensation rippled through his body. Juniper was spurred on when she saw how his body shivered in response, deepening the contact.

Heisenberg pushed her away, holding her down against the bed with strong hands. He swallowed, “That’s enough of that.”

Juniper licked her lips, the taste of metal and skin on her tongue, “Seemed to like it.”

He ground his teeth a bit, aware of his hard cock. He caught her lips up with his own before she could continue.

He kept her occupied, grouping down her body as he lined himself up. She gasped into his mouth when she felt the weeping tip bump her folds. He pulled away to brace himself over her.

“Fuck, I missed you.” His voice was low and almost wavering as he pushed into her. Juniper’s back arched, moaning as his cock stretched her out deliciously.

Her core was tight from the months without him.

He started pumping into her almost desperately, lifting her legs to hook around his waist. With the better angle he was able to reach deeper, rubbing against her g-spot with every thrust.

She clawed down his back, crying out every time their hips sloppily met together.

The sex was messy and raw, both needing to feel the release of pent up passions. Heisenberg groaned out breathily, hands finding purchase in the mattress to buck into her harder.

He felt her tense under him. “F-Fuck! Come for me Doll. Come on my cock!” He grunted out, moving a hand to her clit. His thumb scored quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Juniper buckled under him, sobbing out her release. A surge of slick coated his cock as her cunt clamped down on him.

She felt divine, like liquid velvet around him. Heisenberg became a mess of sounds himself, balls slapping into her ass roughly as he chased his own release.

His hips jolted, bottoming out in her. She felt him pulse as her insides were flooded with hot ropes of come.

She felt extremely full, bits of his release oozing out around his cock.

He settled over her, wanting to stay slotted within her walls. Catching her breath she pulled his face closer, peppering his jaw with kisses.

He gave a little rumble of amusement, letting her fawn over him.

They tangled into one another, the darkness filled with the sounds of their heavy breathes and soft moans. A hunger of the flesh deep in their minds. Words weren’t needed. Their touches, tinged with desperation for an act both had feared would be lost to them, was everything in that moment.

Skin to skin, a heartbeat felt under fingertips. The world outside the bed didn’t exist, the nightmares couldn’t reach them.

Heisenberg pressed his body against Juniper’s, his cock never leaving her. In the soft lulls between rounds of sex he held her close, wanting to feel over every inch of her. She thankfully held onto him, losing track of the hours. He nipped into the soft flesh of her throat, huffing out hotly when he heard her mewl.

He felt her tense under him as he rocked into her afresh. Juniper didn’t know how many rounds or orgasms they shared, the night becoming a blur of pleasure and overstimulation.

Eventually exhaustion overtook her and Juniper fell asleep against his chest. Heisenberg stayed fully inserted inside of her, softly tracing her spinal scar. Their bodies were stuck together with sweat, he could feel every breath and heartbeat of hers.

He let his mind wander to work. With the spring thaw here it would make collecting bodies from the grave easier, but also he would have to be much more on top of watching the village for casualties.

Juniper was his favorite distraction but she was a distraction nonetheless. He wouldn’t force her away, no, she gave him more purpose to strive to escape. She made his hunger to explore the world deeper, he wanted to give her a better life than the factory.

And he would give it to her.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #resident evil #heisenberg smut

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

once upon a december

summary: you had no idea who you were, how you got to where you were, or even your real age. all you knew was that you needed to go to auren, and something there would help you find the family that you always secretly craved. little did you know, you’d find family far before you actually got to auren.

warnings: backstory vibes, incorrect stitching and terribly incorrect making of clothing as usual with this one,

word count: 3.7k

part three!

Sam was a man who was rarely unprepared, and it was becoming increasingly obvious to you. He had already anticipated the group’s need for clothes, so he had plenty of fabric and told you that you had free reign over it, and you doubted that you had smiled bigger all year.

You sat on his furniture with your legs crossed as you meticulously embroidered a coat for yourself, smiling gently as you wove the thread. The fire was warm next to you as you worked quietly and diligently, an air of peace settling in the room that wasn’t broken even when the men came busting back in after they checked on the horses.

“I finished your pants,” you mused lightly. You tilted your head towards the short pile of folded clothes and then looked up at Steve and Bucky. “I think I got the measurements right.”

“I’m sure you did perfectly,” Bucky said.

“I can do yours next if you want, Steve.” He looked at you for a second, then you saw him nod his head sharply before turning on his heel and walking right back out of the doors, like he was never there in the first place.

Your mouth dropped open a bit at his blatant rudeness, and how it had been going on the entire time you two were acquainted. “Why doesn't he like me?”

Bucky looked taken aback. “He doesn’t not like you, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings, Bucky. I know he hates me.” He winced.

There was a moment of thick silence as Sam came back into the room, not sensing the awkwardness until he opened his own mouth and then shut it, getting ready to listen to whatever the other knight was about to say. “I’m afraid you remind him—me too, really— of the girl he used to know,” he said softly, the heat of the fire warming your skin. “The three of us used to be close.”

“How close?”

Like he was sifting through memories and thinking of the ones you were allowed to know and not know, he was silent and in his own head for a moment. “Let’s just say that Steve is the strongest person I know, and he’s still broken up about it. And it happened years ago, five-or maybe six-now.”

“They were best friends?”

“Yes,” James, or Bucky, confirmed. “They were close to the point that everyone who knows Steve knows that had the timing been right, he and that girl would have been much more than friends.”

You made a face that signaled that you understood. You looked into the fire for a moment, and then tilted your head in thought. Steve hated you because you looked like his lost love, whatever happened to her. Besides him being standoffish and not really speaking much, he never went out of his way to be rude to you, and that gave you hope at fixing whatever went wrong. Or maybe you couldn’t fix it.

“He doesn’t dislike you,” Bucky confirmed, like he could hear your thoughts churning. “He just doesn’t know how to speak to someone who looks so much like… her.”

“Do we really look the same?” You asked, still staring into the fire, even when you felt Bucky’s stare come onto your face, eyeing your side profile.

“Yes, actually,” He said, and you nodded. “You look eerily similar to her. And even some of the things you do…” he trailed off, shaking his head. His hair bounced softly with the movement, and you briefly wondered how he kept his hair so healthy.

“What… what happened?”

His eyes widened momentarily, almost like he had heard you ask the most obvious question on the planet. “What happened to Steve?” So, everyone on the planet knew what exactly happened to Steve Rogers, then.

That was a question for another day. “What actually happened to her? Alexandra, right?”

“Ah,” He said, looking towards Steve, who you could see through the open door gathering wood for the fire. “I can’t tell you that.”

Your mouth got ahead of your brain, and before you knew it, your tone was nearing towards demanding. “Why not?”

He grimaced and leaned closer. “Because…” he trailed off when he saw Steve walking towards them again. “No one truly knows.”

For the rest of the night as you started on a thick blanket for Sam (dark blue, which he had requested after being so flattered that you even thought to make him one), you thought about the girl. And of course, Steve.

As weird as it was, you felt like Steve wasn’t who he used to be. You didn’t know him before, but behind the hard exterior was fluffy cotton. You knew that he was much softer than what he was showing you, and that he had been hardened up by the years, a sad condition that nearly everyone went through.

But how did no one know if the girl was alive or not? If she had run away or been taken? If she just skipped out and forgot to write a note? It was a mystery, and you absolutely loved mysteries. But you couldn’t even begin to imagine not knowing what happened to a best friend after six years of silence. You understood Steve’s apprehension and anger towards you then, even though looking like someone else wasn’t your fault, and you knew it. But he had a problem with you, and that didn’t make for a good trip at all.

So you were intent on fixing it.

§§

You woke up before everyone else, and you did it on purpose. You were supposed to be heading out within a few hours, and the headstart gave you plenty of time. You had fallen asleep on the couch and woken up with a blanket tossed over you, and you guessed that Bucky did it. You stood up, got your dry shoes on, went out to the horses, and then went to look at the hunting weapons.

You didn’t know how to use any of them. At all.

“Okay, which one am I most likely to get lucky with?” You muttered, and then your eyes rested on a nicely polished bow and arrow. “Okay, attack from afar, sounds like a good plan.”

You had no idea what Steve’s love language was, but you wanted him to know that you weren’t there to haunt his memory. You were sure that he was the type to be glad to see someone had done something for him, though, so you were going to go with that. You were going to kill the day’s game for him.

You hoisted yourself up on the horse that was oddly familiar with you and didn’t make a sound other than a pleased, chortling noise and went on your way, bow and arrows strapped to your back.

When you saw the first rabbit after half an hour, you nearly fell off of your horse. Your breathing hitched and you quietly set up the weapon as best as you could, feeling it slide into place, and then, something in your mind just clicked. Like an itch that you didn’t even know had been scratched. You breathed in, breathed out, pulled back and let it go, only for you to miss by about an inch. The rabbit took off.

You groaned.

For the next three animals you saw, the outcome was the same. You would get irritatingly close, they would run, and you never saw that one again. You were honestly pleased with yourself for getting so close, but you couldn’t give yourself any praise until you got something.

There was a noise from behind you, and then your bow was cocked and you shot right at the squirrel behind you, hitting it right in the center and killing it instantly. You put a hand over your mouth when you realized that you had actually gotten the animal, and you did a little dance as you rushed over to it, taking the arrow out.

“Thank you so much, little buddy. You won’t go to waste.” You grimaced as you put him in the little bag that you brought, closing it up and praying that the smell wouldn’t smack you in the face when you opened it again.

On your way back, you ran into a rabbit. You shot at it, hit it, and then got off of the horse to get it and put it in your bag, wiping off the bloody arrow in the snow. “Thank you, bunny.” You were about thirty minutes away from reaching the house again when you saw something brown move out of the corner of your eye. You stopped the horse and it stomped its foot, but that didn’t phase the deer that was about twenty feet away, just staring at a tree.

You were shocked. The Goddess of the Hunt, whoever she was, was really looking out for you. You had so many chances in the beginning, and now you had an opportunity to go for a deer? It was big enough to last the four of you days, if you were smart with it. You looked at your bag that was tinting red, and you grimaced at it.

Did you have enough as it was? Yes. Had you always been greedy and a little ambitious? Absolutely.

You sighed quietly to yourself, shaking your head at your own antics. You had the bow in your hands, the arrow pulled back, and then you hesitated.

You really didn’t want to have the deer hurting for any longer than it had to. You wanted it to be so fast that it didn’t even feel it, really. You breathed in and out steadily as you tried to think about where the heart of a deer would be at, and then you thought about going for the head. That would almost guarantee a quick death, and you knew where its brain was at. But it was a smaller target.

Come on, you just hit a squirrel, you said to yourself inside of your head, breathing in and out again to focus. You had to get this deer. They were scarce around here, and you knew that it would solidify a friendship between you and Steve.

You didn’t know why you craved it so much, only that you did. And you usually got what you wanted, if you could help it.

You aimed for the head, and it was standing still, not even taking notice of you at all. That was good. You took another steadying breath, cocked it again, and then let it go. It whistled in the air for only a few seconds before plunging right into its head, and you watched it fall to the side, dead instantly.

Your jaw slacked and left your mouth open. You blinked once, twice, three times, and then you shook your head and got off of the horse, who was making noise now at the sight of you getting big game. You walked towards it slowly, as if you were afraid that it was going to come back and get you. “How the hell am I going to get this back?” You muttered to yourself after looking at just how big it was.

You felt weird about picking up an animal that big while it was dead, and you almost gagged at the thought of handling it. But you had no choice. You killed it, so now it was your responsibility to take it back and make use of it, because you weren’t wasting any animal like that.

“Okay, bud, work with me,” you said as you prepared to lift it on top of the horse, knees buckling with the weight of it at your first try. “Fuck.” You muttered. You grunted again as you used all of your strength to put the deer on the horse, laying it across so that it took up all the room sideways. You’d have to walk. “Alright. Now, to the cabin.”

The walk back was silent. The sun was high up in the sky now, and you had no doubt that they had woken up already. They were usually up before you were, gone for a second and then back within a few minutes.

You walked past trees that you had seen before on the way out, and it reassured you of your good sense of direction. You hummed softly to yourself as you started to hear shouting by familiar voices in the distance, their panicking somehow now hitting you like it was hitting them.

Your steps were bouncy as you came out of the tree line, a smile on your face. You saw Bucky whip his head around and stare at you with wide eyes. “W-where were you?”

Your smile dropped. “I went outside.”

“You can’t just leave like that,” he said exasperatedly, rubbing his hand with his face. “You’ve got Steve going feral.”

Despite the news of him being angry, your heart jumped at the thought of him seeing what you had worked hard for. “Where is he?”

“What the hell is on the horse?” He asked softly, stepping forward. His face fell when he finally allowed himself to recognize the large animal. “Did you- did you buy a deer?”

You made a face. “No, I don’t have money.” You grinned when you took the bag and handed it his way. He opened it and looked pleasantly surprised at the contents. “I hunted them.”

“I’m going to go out and find her,” you heard Steve shout from inside, not angry, just telling someone- who you assumed was Sam. You frowned as you listened to him stomping towards the back door, watching him freeze when he saw you. “What the- What happened?”

“I… went outside?”

“You can’t just do that,” Steve grumbled, stepping closer to you. “Not everyone you come across is going to be a good person. Especially not when it’s barely gotten light outside, Y’N. You can’t go out by yourself.”

“You do,” you retaliated.

“Well, I’m a trained knight.” And stronger and taller than the average man in these parts, for sure, you knew, but you weren’t going to validate what he said. “And you’re a woman.”

“Yes, I happen to be that,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. You took a deep breath when you remembered what you had gone out for in the first place, and you gently took the bag from Bucky and took a step towards Steve, who was still infuriated. “I got these for you.”

His look of irritation dropped. “What?” He looked inside of the bag and it was obvious that he recognized the weapon that killed them. “You know how to shoot?”

“I just wanted to clear the air.” You said softly, taking a step back. “I know we didn’t start off too well, and we’re not too hot at the moment, either. I know you like to hunt and have food like this, so I brought you something.”

By now, Sam was standing next to Bucky, wide eyed at the exchange that you meant to be a lot more pleasant than it was going. You weren’t even focused on them, and neither was Steve. It was just the two of you in the cold, trying to understand each other and succeeding every few seconds.

“That was… very kind of you.” Steve said, his usually loud, naturally commanding voice almost as tender as yours. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I got a deer,” you blurted, and his brows scrunched together in confusion. “I don’t know how, but I did.” You saw his eyes travel to the deer, lying dead on the horse. He looked pleasantly shocked. “I hope this can, uh, fix things.”

He tore his eyes away from the deer. “I’m sorry for making you feel like the only way you could get me to like you was for you to bribe me.” You started to frown. “This wasn’t necessary, but it was very kind of you. Thank you, Al-Y/N.”

You pretended like you didn’t hear the way he was about to call you Alexandra, for his sake and yours. You smiled gently at him and reached up to pat him on his shoulder. “It was my privilege and pleasure.” You headed towards Sam’s back door just before you could see the way that they all tensed up and looked at Steve, who got paler by the second, and looked like he had seen a ghost.

§§

You had more fabric in your bag, a stronger pair of scissors, more needles, and more thread as you rode on the back of Bucky’s horse. You figured that Steve still needed his space, regardless of how much he was grateful for your efforts. He had skinned the deer and cut it up earlier, a soft smile on his face the whole time he did it.

Apparently, you were still three weeks away from reaching the other kingdom. You didn’t question it. You had no doubt that picking you up made them a little slower, anyway. That, and the fact, that you got distracted with the simplest things.

Honestly, you couldn’t help it. There were so many things that you hadn’t seen before, and something as similar as a half frozen creek excited you for that reason. White birds flying through the air and landing on the snow that matched their wings made you stop the horse so you wouldn’t disturb them. And of course you wanted to touch the hanging berries that were a bold red. You had seen everything and nothing in the world, and you were checking things off one at a time.

The days were quite boring, really. No one really spoke, and when they did, you let the men have their time. You figured that you had absolutely nothing to contribute when it came to the topic of knighthood or old battles or their favorite times where they used their favorite swords. So, you just looked at the ground and at your cloth and at the sky, the hooves of the horse marking time for you.

It was the nights that made the difference, where you grew closer to them all. It was always cold, and cold meant lonely. So, you started conversation, every night, and it would go on for hours until someone was too tired to still hear mindless or not so mindless chatter.

One night, the fifth night, you sighed and looked up towards the stars, since it had stopped snowing. “You guys are clearly from Auren.” There was no answer. “Why do you three live all the way out here?”

It was a known fact that the two kingdoms were opposite. If you were from Yuran, you never wanted to travel to Auren. If you were from Auren, it was extremely rare that anyone would leave for Yuran for anything but business. Now, for Auren knights to live in Yuran? Something was up.

The silence was thick. You decided to let it cook, assuming that one of them was going to say something, even if it was a lie. Then, you heard a heavy sigh, and then Bucky’s voice. “The three of us were exiled.”

Your heart stopped in your chest for a moment. What could they have done that put them in exile? To exile a Knight was a huge deal, and it took a lot to get through. Knights were fan favorites. “Oh.”

“We’re not criminals,” Sam cleared up quickly, and you could sense his nervousness in the dim light of the stars. “We just… had different opinions than everyone else.”

“So, you’re rebels?” You asked softly.

“No! We just did something that was unauthorized, thinking that we would succeed.”

You should have been terrified. “If you don’t mind me asking…?”

Like everyone was waiting on a specific person to give clearance to admitting their crime, you waited on an answer. It was Steve who delivered it. “We launched a search for the princess.”

You grew up in Yuran. You had the barest of knowledge about Auren, besides the fact that you wanted to go. You knew that just like in Yuran, they had a democracy. The Yuran line was the Pierce family, and the Auren line was the Starks. That’s all that you knew, really.

“Um, who?” There was silence. “I’m sorry, we didn’t really get prime education at the orphanage. And they always told us that Auren wasn’t our business, so I know nothing about it, really.”

“Well, you know about the raid of the castle, right?” When you looked lost, he gave you a look. “The huge one that happened a while back. Five years ago.”

Hadn’t you just said that you knew close to nothing? “Uh…”

“One night, about half a decade ago, the castle was raided. The goal was to kill the entire royal family, and unfortunately, they got a few of them. The King and Queen survived, but the Princess was missing. She was their only child, their adopted one at that, and so the kingdom was in distress. It was pronounced that the Princess was probably dead after weeks of no ransom notes, no boasting, no nothing. And so, the King decreed that he wanted no one to stir things up, because it hurt his heart to be full of hope and then shot down over and over again.”

You could imagine how terrible that felt. The thought of someone’s only child and heir to disappear after an attack was terrifying. Lucas was practically yours, and you couldn’t imagine that happening with you and him. You felt horrible for the monarchs that you never knew.

Bucky was speaking now. “But, Steve, Sam, and I, didn’t take no for an answer. We did it ourselves, nearly got killed, and got into plenty of fights that had mixed results. That’s how I lost my arm, by the way.” He added, and you nodded in the darkness at the bluntness of his statement. “The King caught wind of what we were doing while he was planning her funeral with no body, and he was so angry that he casted us out on the spot. We weren’t even allowed to go to the service.”

You blinked in momentary silence. “Wow.”

A beat of silence that was as painful as a dying heart’s last beat passed between the four of you. “Yeah.” It took a few seconds to craft the right sentence up in your mind, to indirectly tell them that the new information didn’t make them look like any sort of criminals.

“You… I think that what you did was very honorable.” You said quietly, and you felt the tension in the air shift to something lighter, ever so slowly. “If the Princess were to hear that you fought so hard to bring her home, I’m sure that she would be very grateful.”

“I hope so,” Sam said, and you heard him turning over on his side, a clear indicator that he wanted the conversation to be over. “I really hope so.” And so you let it rest.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #royalty au #knight!steve rogers #knight!sam wilson #knight!bucky barnes #my fics #anastasia au #long lost princess!reader #princess!reader #marvel fanfic #marvel au

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lady-o-ren · 3 years

Text

THE HUNGER OF MY HEART

//PROLOGUE// //PART ONE// PART TWO

PART THREE

For easier reading here’s the link for ao3 (X)

Jamie stepped into the Lallybroch stables and whistled melodically through his teeth. A wide-browed grey horse poked his head out from the corner stall, hitching his ears forward as he blew excitedly through his nostrils.

"Cobhar, ciamar a tha thu?" Said Jamie fondly, firmly patting the long dappled neck of the horse and scratching behind his ears. "Di' ye miss me, my wee laddie?"

Nothing was wee about Cobhar. He was a good-tempered, but spirited 14-hand gelding that had been the first foal that Jamie's father let him care for when he was a lad, still mourning his mother and needing distraction.

Cobhar's big head came down and mouthed affectionately at Jamie's curls then cheeks in greeting, as he always had done, then descended down to his knuckles, eager for the sweet treat he could smell hiding in his palm.

"Och, ye miss being spoilt is all then? Didn'a think of me once while I was gone, di' ye?"

Cobhar huffed impatiently and nudged his head against Jamie's chest, nibbling at the buttons, while swishing his dirt-blonde tail side to side.

"A'right, laddie," Jamie chuckled, patting him again. "Here ye go. No need to knock me over." The stallion's soft velvet lips plucked the whole apple from out his opened palm and devoured it in one loud and juicy crunch.

"Fattening auld Cobhar a'ready, Jamie?"

Jamie grinned ear to ear as he looked aside to see his best friend, and now brother-in-law, Ian, amble up beside him. He was tall and whipcord lean and strong, with an honest, good-natured face about him that had captured his sister, Jenny's heart when they were naught but bairns.

"Ye're one to talk, Ian. My sister didn'a get big as a house on her own, di' she?"

Face a rich blush, Ian laughed and bashfully scratched his nose, crooked from when Jamie broke it years before, having found him and Jenny in the most compromising of ways.

"Still a wee shite, Fraser. And still redder than a roosters arse," said Ian, as he playfully smacked the back of Jamie's head.

As had everyone else in the family since he arrived back home. His uncle's, aunties and brutally by his beloved godfather, Murtagh, for being away from Lallybroch for so long. But the real blackening had come from Jenny, a feat for a pregnant woman who had once been no bigger than his thumb. Thank Christ, he had a skull made of solid stone (though as predicted she had embraced soon after and kissed him more than what was decent for a sister to).

Rubbing the multitude of throbbing black and blue bumps on his head (but after having given Ian a hard punch to his shoulder), Jamie spotted what looked to be an envelope under his brother-in-law's arm.

"Plan on feeling the bills to the white sow, Ian?"

Ian looked at him quizzically before making an "O" with his mouth and pulled the envelope out.

"It came yesterday, before you di'," said Ian, handing it over to Jamie, who curiously flipped it over.

It was a letter actually. He grinned, almost laughing, as it was addressed to James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser and had been tied thoughtfully with twine and a sprig of greenery embedded (accidentally?) in its bow that he brushed a blunt forefinger to.

It was from Claire.

Jamie glanced up to see Ian smirking at him and felt his ears blush hot.

"Ye're damn lucky I saw that before yer sister di'. She'd be holding it up to the light and steaming the seams open."

"She'd do no such thing," Jamie retorted, with a glint of humor in his eyes. "Yer wife would tear it open wi' her teeth and wave it in my face."

"That she would," Ian agreed with a chest shaking chuckle. "But our lass is a bloodhound and will find out sooner than not about the puir lass that ye've set yer heart upon."

The last was said almost in question. A hope that maybe Jamie had found a way to balm his wearied heart, knowing that his travels were not just a simple bout of wanderlust and the outlandish reason why. He had the look of a man now awakened, as if he'd been reborn. Something Ian himself had experienced the day Janet Fraser gave him his first kiss at the tender age of six and had never recovered from.

Nor had his nose.

Jamie met Ian's hazel eyed gaze.

"Her name's Claire," he beamed, not bothering to hide the emotion in his voice that rivaled the reverence of a prayer to the creator above. "I met her in London a week ago. Spent every second I could wi' her."

And leaving the woman of his dreams had been like having his heart cleaved in two.

"Then you'll have to write to me," Claire had said, beneath her gates woven green with ivy, having clasped her fingers to his, while her other hand held his arm as if to draw him back to her marvelous world.

"Letters, ye mean?" He gulped, having felt himself sway to her power.

She nodded. "I prefer it. I can't stand the ringing and pinging of a telephone. Will you, Jamie?" Her voice had sounded unsure as if it were indeed possible he could ever refuse her.

"Who do I address it to?" He had smiled, while grazing a tentative thumb to the back of her palm. "The funny house no one can see at the end of nowhere street?"

"You're a smart one." She pulled her hand away to tap his nose but had let her caress linger innocently, cluelessly, down his ginger stubbled cheek as he shivered with desire, wanting to kiss the base of her thumb, count her freckles with his mouth. "Address it to this empty lot and your letter will find me. Just don't be forever."

Jamie had pressed his hand over hers, not knowing if he could ever let her go, feeling his breath stitch tight.

"Then until I see ye again, Sassenach."

She glowed at the name he'd given her the day they'd met. Had told him before it suited her better than even her given one.

Jamie hadn't agreed with that at all and wanted to tell her what Claire was in the Ghàidhlig.

One day he would.

Perhaps strung together with the phrase stirring in his heart.

Tha gaol agam ort

But apparently a day had been far too long for her.

"I think she's the one," Jamie continued on, in almost startling disbelief as he grinned like the lovesick fool he was. "The one that's been calling for me all these years."

"Christ, man! She's real?!" Ian gripped his shoulder, matching his excitement. "Should we be expecting yer Claire for hogmanay with a wee one of yer own?"

Before Jamie could stutter a heart racing answer to that query, the two were interrupted by Jenny hollering for them.

“D’ye two want yer dinner, or shall I feed it to the dogs!?”

Said dogs, Luke and Elphin, Mars and auld Bran, howled in answer while Jamie groaned at his sister's impeccable timing.

Ian slapped his back though and gave his dearest friend and bràthair an encouraging smile and waggle of his dark brows. "Read the damn letter, man. I'll take care of yer sister. Just remember when yer wean's born to name him after me, aye?"

After watching Ian depart with a wink, Jamie threw a long leg over Cobhar's stall door (shushing the nosey beast with a promise of sugar cubes) and settled himself low in the hay.

After pocketing the bit of green to his breast pocket with a delicate hand, he carefully untied the twine and opened Claire's letter. The sweet fragrance of elderflowers and chamomile kissed the page where a simple request was written that had Jamie hopping over the stall door and running towards Lallybroch, with his pack of dogs yapping at his heels.

My Dear Jamie,

At the end of the week I'll be in Edinburgh.

Join me?

"Are ye ever going to tell me what's in this thing, Sassenach?"

Up and down the winding streets of Edinburgh, past the many sloping buildings and cafes and bitty book shops stacked beside one another, Jamie had been carrying a heavy and ornate wooden chest for Claire as she walked ahead of him, looking for the shop to deliver it to.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and her young apprentice, Elias, beside him, who'd taken quite a shine to the older Scotsman. He too had been tasked with carrying a package. It was strapped to his back, a long leather cylinder that could've held anything from mundane documents to a treasure map. Jamie wasn't sure at all.

"It's not for me to say. Besides it would only worry your dreams."

"That doesna make me feel any better," Jamie murmured, staring warily at what he held in his arms which amused Claire greatly enough to bite her posey lush lips from laughing.

"Then pretend it's a cake box."

Elias snorted, catching Jamie's attention.

"Ye ken what's in this thing don't ye, mo charaid?"

"Aye - I mean yes. But -" Elias flicked his round eyes to his mistress's straight back then cupped his hand to his round cheek. "I'll tell you later. It's downright awful and I nearly lost my -"

"You know I can hear you both? I'm not that old."

"And how old is that?" Jamie asked half teasing, half with genuine curiosity, while Elias pinked, snorting loudly once more.

Claire stopped in her tracks and spun on her heels, cutting a look at the younger lad who quickly cowered behind the much taller man.

"I'm old enough to remember Queen Victoria but not the Bonnie Prince. Is that enough for you?" She replied flatly, crossing her arms.

Jamie went a bit bug-eyed, mentally counting the decades since the little Queen's reign. Then his wide mouth twitched.

"And ye say ye're no' a witch?"

Claire rolled her eyes and continued walking but a smile had peeked on her lips that encouraged Jamie to tease her more.

"Ye ken," he began, walking beside her now and shifting the weight of the chest as he did so. "There are auld highland tales that say curls wild as yers are the mark of a Ban-druidh, and that the crows favor them to make their nests."

She tugged at her dark locks and watched as they bounced back on release with utter disdain written on her face.

"They're more of a tumbleweed curse if you ask me," she frowned, making Jamie quickly regret his words.

"I didna mean it that way, Sassenach. Truly. Yer curls are lovely. They're like the ripples in a burn when the rain and leaves fall upon it. Luminous as the sky rich in twilight. And yer eyes, Christ, they're. . ."

Jamie's voice trailed off when he realized they'd stopped walking and had the wide-eyed attention of both Elias and Claire.

As well as everyone else on the street alongside them.

How loudly had he been blabbering?

But then a smile of pure delight broke across Claire's face, reflecting brightly in her eyes, as she tucked an errant curl behind her ear, only for another far more impetuous to take its place.

"How has no one snatched up a charmer like you, Jamie?"

One had. A very oblivious one.

Jamie sheepishly shrugged and found unparalleled interest in the engravings of the wooden box he carried as his face blazed the very color of his beating heart. He looked very much like a schoolboy.

Unnoticed by them though was dear Elias, whose sea-grey eyes darted between them both, grinning sweet as pie.

Walking down another street, Claire finally announced they had arrived, and the men, sore footed and muscle strained, sighed in relief.

The shop exterior was hard wood and painted coal black while the door was a dark and flaking green. And written in gold on the long framed window beside the door, Jamie read to himself

THE WITHERED BONE

Potions // Trinkets // Antiques

The Finest Biscuits This Side of the Black Realm

"Biscuits?" Jamie murmured, knotting his brow. "What kind of shop is this? Like yers, Sassenach?"

"Not necessarily," she said, hand hesitant on the brass doorknob. "For one it's in plain sight. But if you want to call anyone a witch the three who own this place would fit the bill. I think they even have a cauldron."

"They do. I saw it with - uh, nevermind," Elias choked at the last, blushing beet red.

Claire arched her brow. "Now Elias -"

"I know, ma'am," he drawled, fiddling with the strap over his chest. "Stay away from Ms. Annalise and keep to your side."

"And Jamie -"

He looked at her smiling wryly. "Ms. Annalise?"

"Shut up," she said, playfully swatting his arm. "You stay at the front of the shop. There's nothing there that can bite your nose off."

Claire then ushered them both through the door.

Inside, it was a cluttered jumble of anything and everything. An elaborate display of lost treasures from Africa to France and most prominently the Jacobite resistance in all its doomed glory. There was an array of vintage costume jewelry, stacked stop tables against the walls and racks of overflowing clothing a group of young girls were pawing through, where one in particular, all flaxen hair and big doe eyes, was swaying to the melancholy chords of a record that crackled softly in the background.

What makes you think love will end?

When you know that my whole life depends

On you

It was a tune Jamie remembered his parents dancing to. His mother had been wrapped in his father's arms as he nuzzled her cheek, softly mouthing the words against her skin. The young girl hummed it too as she gazed dreamily at a dress in her hands.

Overhead hung a simple iron chandelier that seemed to have been ripped straight from a castle's dungeon, dripping hot candle wax to a metal bowl placed on the hardwood floors. One burning drop fell down Jamie's neck as he walked beneath them, that had him cursing underbreath as he scrunched his shoulders and knocked his knee into a table, rattling the knickknacks.

"Ye break it ye buy it, laddie," came a voice from the front of the shop. "I'll take cash and the blood of yer first born."

"Oh, Geilie," said Claire and crossed over to the counter, leaning over the glass display of dirks and sgian dhu (with a cookie jar atop) to kiss a rather wicked to the bone looking redhead's cheek. "You are terrible."

"It wasn'a as if I lied," Geilie snickered, turning her attention first to young Elias who flinched under her unnerving gaze then to Jamie, blatantly raking over his physique before Claire stepped into her view.

"Who's the clumsy stag ye've brought wi' ye, Claire?"

"A friend who I very much like as he is. No twitching your nose or feeding him your biscuits." She then mumbled to Jamie at her shoulder. "Hansel and Gretel, remember?"

"Ye're never any fun," she pouted, then pointed her chin. "Have ye a name, stag?"

"Jamie," he replied simply, not at all trusting the unsettling woman before him with more than that.

"Weel then, Jamie, ye can leave that in the corner there and you," she looked at Elias with a devilish grin as she propped her chin on her hand and drummed her fingers to her cheek. "Louise will be waiting downstairs fer ye, Annalise too. But ye kent that aye?"

While the young lad experienced a sudden shortness of breath, Jamie set the delivery down and rather dumbly asked, "What's downstairs?"

Geilie's eyes shimmered like the feral beast whose blood she probably bathed in, chilling Jamie down to his bones.

"Why? Are ye needin' an ill-wish like the wee lasses over there." She gestured over to the girls taking their leave. "Mebbe something far more entertaining and lethal like a summoning? Those require a blood sacrifice, ken. Nothing so tender as yer sweet lass here wi' her trade of bits and bobs.

She wasn't kidding.

Jamie glanced at the doorway that led downstairs, carved with cabbalistic symbols. A faint whiff of bitter herbs wafted through a pigeon blood red curtain that shadowed it, mingling with a coppery tang he could taste on his tongue, tainting the air. It churned his wame with sick.

"Or are ye wantin' - Oh!" She quickly shot a strange and startled look over to Claire.

"Leave him be, Geilie," Claire chided, unaware of the questions in her sometimes friend's eyes as she threw all her attention on Jamie.

"We'll only be a minute," she assured him with a hand running down his arm, sending a shock of steadying warmth through him that he knew came from someplace bewitching within her. "And don't worry about Geilie, she won't touch a hair on your head when she knows I can shrivel hers like a prune."

Jamie smiled at his own Ban-druidh. Must've whispered it too, to deserve the pinch she gave him before leaving with Elias downstairs to the witch's grisly lair.

"I ken what yer after, mo bhalaich," came Geilie's voice, softly speaking to him as if he were a friend. "I can see it festering in ye like hemlock, yer love fer the Sassenach."

Jamie nervously glanced over to the doorway. "I dinna ken what yer on about, woman."

"Dinna bother hidin' it, no' like she can see it anyhow. She hasn't the heart fer it, ye see. Hers was taken by her old master, the wee frog, who lived in that house of hers before she di'. She hasn'a a clue where it is, doesn'a even ken it's missin', and wi'out it she canna love ye back."

"Why - Why should I believe you?" Jamie asked haltingly, for his throat was being strangled by his heart, ripped from beneath his ribs.

"Why would I lie, ye puir wee fool? Save yerself, getaway, or that love ye carry will swallow ye whole, heart and soul and breath."

Only when she touched the tender spot on his chest did Jamie realize he was bent over the counter a hair's breadth away from the witch, close enough to see the harsh and earnest truth pooling in her eyes.

Then she pushed him away.

"All done," said Claire, coming through the curtain, and cast her gaze between the two in front of her.

"What have you two been doing?" She waved a finger at them both.

"Oh, a little talking is all. Nothing more," grinned Geilie, face a mask of perfect innocence.

Claire hummed, believing otherwise and tried to make light of whatever she saw troubling Jamie's face. "You should know whatever Geilie told you, it's probably only half as bad or twice as worst,"

"Och, I'm sure of it, Sassenach. Shall we go?" Jamie said hurriedly, not meeting her eye. Trying to forget what the witch had said.

She slowly nodded, her face lined with concern, but tucked her slender arm through his and gave Geilie a half-hearted goodbye. Immediately, Jamie felt the blood in his veins flow to his heart now beating in its proper place and air return to his lungs.

But somewhere deep inside himself, Jamie could feel the beginnings of a rotting ache bloom and take root. He was already too far gone.

"You didn't eat the biscuits did you."

He managed a weak chuckle and swallowed. "No lass." But then he swiveled his head. "Where's the wee lad?"

In five seconds flat, Claire had Elias by his arm like a child, his face a burning fever red and eyes bowed to the ground with Ms. Annalise leaning at the doorway, a beguiling smile on her face.

No time is wasted that makes two people friends

THANK YOU to everyone who reads and comments on this fic. You have no idea how much I appreciate it!!

!!MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Now Author Notes

*First off sorry for all the messy mistakes and eye gouging writing

*Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou/ @mo-nighean-rouge for help with the line tweaking "Perhaps strung together with the phrase stirring in his heart." Although hers was actually better "Perhaps preceded by a phrase stirring in his heart" but preceded sounded too smart and too good for my dummy words.

*The descriptions of Cobhar are from the book cause I don't know anything about horses.

*The song is Never My Love

*I may come back and fiddle with this chapter but I really wanted to get this done before Christmas.

*Next chapter will be the last

#jamie x claire #Outlander #outlander fic #outlander fanfiction

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