#leaning towards scar-crossed lovers at this point but i keep going back and forth

[somanyfuckedupiftruebooks]

Help me name my next fic

Frantically trying to finish one more fic for jonmartin week and I suck at titles.

[darbydoo22]

A Song From The Heart

a/n: So happy I got to participate in the @grishaversebigbang this year! I had so much fun writing this fic! Chapters will be posted every other day until they are all up.

Corporalki: @darbydoo22

Materialki: @phy-be (x) @cat-terpillar (x) @streckenweise-okay (x) (all art contains spoilers for later chapters)

Summary: Ivan and Fedyor get assigned to guard the royal family of Ravka, which means a lot of time at the little palace. Fedyor is excited, because it means the possibility of mentoring a young grisha, but Ivan isn’t sold on the idea. Instead of mentoring one of the higher year grisha, they end up adopting a young Nina Zenik instead.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33620707

or 

Chapter 1/12 under the cut:

Fedyor didn’t know what to expect when he had been called into General Kirigan’s tent. He had been assisting with some of the crossings of the fold, and knew Ivan had been doing the same. They had seen each other a handful of times in the past few months, but to Fedyor, it felt like he hadn’t seen his lover in years. Saints he missed Ivan, he thought as he made his way to the general’s tent.

As he got to the General’s tent, Fedyor could almost hear Ivan’s familiar heartbeat, with how much Fedyor was thinking about him. But when Fedyor ducked inside the tent, he was met with the sight of Ivan, standing next to the General.

Fedyor wanted to run to Ivan, to hold him tightly in his arms and know for certain that his lover was safe, but the General had called them here for a reason. It certainly wasn’t just for a reunion.

“Now that you’re both here, why don’t we get started.” the General said. It wasn’t so much a question as it was an order.

He motioned for both of them to sit, so Fedyor did. He was sitting close enough to Ivan that their hands were brushing under the table, but he didn’t dare reach out. It was not the time or the place for that.

Fedyor could practically feel Ivan echoing his longing, but all Fedyor could do was turn his attention to the General. General Kirigan explained that there was some new threat to Ravka, or more specifically, to the Ravkan royal family.

“I need both of you back at the little palace for the foreseeable future. A threat to the royal family is a threat to all of Ravka, and we cannot stand for it. I need my two best heartrenders there” General Kirigan told them.

Fedyor nodded, and mumbled a ‘yes General’. He heard Ivan do the same.

“Good. I trust the two of you won’t be too.... distracted, to do your duty to this country and to our people?” The General asked, looking back and forth between them. Fedyor cringed at the reminder that General Kirigan knew about them. It was part of the reason they hadn’t spent much time together on missions lately.

“Nothing is more important to us than our county and our people” Ivan told the General. His voice was steady and even, sounding nothing but sincere. Fedyor had to stop himself from smiling though, because Ivan’s heartbeat had skipped a beat, in the telltale sign of a lie. Fedyor loved knowing that, for all his posturing about how important Ravka and the grisha were to him, Fedyor was more important to Ivan.

“Alright, you’re both dismissed. I expect the two of you to remain at the little palace until you receive instructions otherwise, understood?” The general asked. Again, they both mumbled a polite ‘understood’ before standing up and leaving the General’s tent.

The second they were both outside, Fedyor wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Ivan and kissing him. Fedyor didn’t care that they were just outside the General’s tent, in the middle of the military encampment. Nothing mattered to him in that moment besides the feeling of Ivan’s lips moving against his.

It felt like coming home. Like everything Fedyor had ever wanted. Words could not describe how much he had missed this, how much he had missed Ivan. Ever since the General had found out they were together, he had been sending them on separate missions. But they were both here now, and that was all Fedyor cared about.

“I missed you'' Fedyor mumbled when he finally pulled away from the kiss.

“I missed you too'' Ivan answered. Ivan pulled away from their embrace, but he continued to hold Fedyor’s hand as he led Fedyor through the maze of tents.

By some small miracle, or probably Ivan’s doing, they were sharing a tent. It was a small, standard tent for the first army, but Fedyor didn’t care. They would only be spending the night before making their way to the little palace.

Fedyor did smile when Ivan led him into the tent. Rather than the two small bedrolls most of the first army were stuck with, there was a large, comfortable bed in the middle of their tent. It took up most of the room, but Fedyor didn’t mind.

He finally, begrudgingly, let go of Ivan’s hand and began to remove his kefta. Fedyor was struggling with the buttons, probably because he refused to take his eyes off of Ivan as he stripped down to his undergarments.

Fedyor had managed to undo two of the clasps on his kefta before he gave up, unable to tear his eyes away from Ivan.

Ivan hadn’t changed much since the last time they had been alone together. Fedyor noticed one new scar on his chest, another on his arm. But he was looking at Fedyor with the same soft expression that was only ever reserved for him.

“Do you need help?” Ivan asked him. His tone wasn’t harsh or rude by any means, but Ivan never was with Fedyor. Fedyor nodded and mumbled a ‘please’ before moving closer to Ivan.

Fedyor let Ivan remove his Kefta, moving in sync with him as he continued to undress Fedyor. It wasn’t sexual, but felt intimate nonetheless. Once they were both down to their underclothes, Fedyor let Ivan lead him towards the bed.

He revelled in the softness of the sheets briefly, before reaching over hand wrapping an arm around Ivan’s shoulder. Saints, Fedyor had missed spending time with Ivan. He’d missed the casual, not rushed intimacy they could have. Fedyor felt Ivan shift a bit in his embrace and let him move until Ivan was on his back, Fedyor resting half on top of him.

“So... we’re going back to the little palace for a while '' Ivan started, wrapping an arm around Fedyor’s waist and pulling him impossibly closer. Fedyor smiled up at Ivan in response.

“Yes. It looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together” Fedyor said, making Ivan laugh.

“Time together where we will be working, love. We are supposed to protect the royal family” Ivan reminded him. Fedyor wanted to roll his eyes, but settled for pouting at Ivan instead.

“They won’t need our protection the entire time” Fedyor countered, and Ivan sighed.

“What do you plan on doing with all that time off, then? Finally going to learn Kerch? Will you read those books that keep piling up in our room? Or maybe you’ll mentor one of the new grisha?” Ivan asked. Fedyor knew he was teasing, but....

“Could we mentor one of the new grisha?” Fedyor asked. It was something Ivan knew he had wanted to do for a while now.

Mentoring a younger grisha wasn’t required, but a lot of the grisha who spent long periods of time at the little palace ended up doing it at some point. It seemed like the perfect time for them, but Ivan didn’t look so sure about it.

“You know I’m not.... good with people. I’m much worse with kids” Ivan said.

Fedyor knew that Ivan wasn’t, as he said, good with people. It wasn’t that Ivan disliked people, he was just ....guarded.

After growing up in Fjerda, surrounded by people who had turned on him and tried to kill him for being Grisha, then coming to the little palace and not being trusted because he was Fjerdan.... well, Fedyor understood why Ivan was guarded. Understood why he put up walls almost as high as those of the little palace.

“We can talk about it more on the way there” Ivan told him. It wasn’t a yes, but it also wasn’t a no. Fedyor smiled, and leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Ivan’s lips.

“Thank you” Fedyor mumbled letting himself snuggle closer to Ivan as he fell asleep.

[dreams-of-the-arcana]

A soft Kipos fic 🥰🥰🥰

Pairing: Tikos x Kipling Bronne ( @asras3rdeye’s OC)

Over the Seas

“... hey.”

“No.”

“But-“

“No.”

“It’s just, I don’t want to keep you if you-“

“Bee.”

“-Captainy things to do?”

A low rumbling chuckle shook the entwined pair.

“Captainy things?” Tikos’ voice was still heavy with sleep as he teased the gardener currently wrapped up in his arms.

Kipling blushed and buried her face in his chest further. It seemed like an important worry up until the words were out of her mouth. Suddenly the past five minutes she’d fretted over it seemed silly.

In the Captain’s cabin of the Charybdis’ Decent, the sun was just starting to filter through the intricate stained glass window at the back of the room. It was just enough light to throw weak colorful rays onto the pair in bed. Tikos stretched out leisurely with Kipling cuddled on his right side using his shoulder for a pillow. He’d managed to kick the blankets off himself during the night and seemed to have never made it back into any clothes. With her leg thrown over his own, Kip was fully aware and avoiding thinking about it too much.

It wasn’t close to the first time they’d been together but somehow it always felt so intense that it may well be.

“Don’t worry so much, Bee. I did the best Captainy thing I could,” he assured her. “I hired people who can run a ship without needing me constantly.”

Her face only felt hotter and he pulled her into a hug on top of him.

“I’m just...”

“We can turn around if you’re too nervous?” His tone was light but she knew he was being serious. If at any point she changed her mind they’d be right back to Vesuvia. But she wouldn’t, she was determined.

“No!... well, I am nervous but I still want to go.”

“You jus’ let me know. They can... be a lot to handle.”

Staying on course, the Charybdis’ Decent continued to draw closer to Nevivon. Where Kipling would be introduced to Tikos’ parents for the first time. Which was enough to be worried about already but adding on the inherit nerves with sailing for so long.

“Hey.”

Kipling looked to meet Tikos’ eye, he hadn’t put his patch back on either. He trusted her.

“Come here,” he purred and crooked a finger at her.

Kip leaned down closer on Tikos’ chest and he gently caught her lips with his own. It was a slow, soft, and sleepy kiss with no sense of urgency or motive. He took his time exploiting every trick he knew she liked before pulling away to lean his forehead against hers.

“They’re going to love you. Know how I know?”

She had an idea but stayed silent.

“Because I love you.”

Her cheeks flamed with a blush but she couldn’t keep the happy smile off her face at those words. They enjoyed a moment of just being overjoyed. Then he ran a hand up her bare thigh that currently straddled him and Kip opened her eyes to his usual cheeky grin.

“Besides, I know the best stress relief, aye?”

“... aye.”

Only a few hours later, Nevivon was in full view sparkling in the sunlight.

“LAND! NEVIVON IN SIGHT!”

The shout from a crew member drew a smile from Tikos. It’d been some time since he’d been to visit. It seemed like whenever he had a free moment he was likely to be found in Vesuvia. Not that the crew teased him incessantly about it but, well, what else is family for?

“Ah! Smell that beautiful sea air!” Tikos took in a deep breath aboard the deck as he manned the wheel. Kipling rolled her eyes at him playfully. She sat nearby working on finishing up the bracelets she was making for his parents. They were beautiful and full of seashells the pair had collected on adventures.

“I have been since we set sail.”

He grinned at his companion.

“Aye but it’s so much better when land is in sight. Makes me never want to leave.”

“As much as I love looking at the ocean and your ship, I would really like to see a plant again soon.”

“Of course you do, Honeybee. And so you shall.”

They enjoyed the short back-and-forth as the ship came into dock.

Finally, it was time to disembark. Surprisingly to Tikos, they managed to get their feet on the dock before two loud commanding voices rang out.

“Zori!!”

“Tizos!!”

Tikos held Kipling’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“μητέρα! татко!”* He called out.

A thin woman with long black curls streaked with grey pushed her way past the crew and spotted them.

“το μωρό μου!”*

Behind her came a large man with short white hair and kind brown eyes.

“Γεια σου!”*

The woman rushed towards them and pulled Tikos down for a hug while rapidly firing off in their native language. Then her eyes gravitated towards Kipling and her smile grew even bigger as she pulled her in for a hug as well.

“Ey, μητέρα, in Vesuvian please.” Tikos said to his Mother as she tried to speak to Kip.

“Oh yes! Vesuvian! My darling girl, welcome, welcome! We are so happy to meet you! And to see our boy! Oh Tizos! It’s been so long! Everyone is wanting to see you and your beautiful woman! Yes! We made a big feast!”

“Ayy, ay, љубов моја*. Let her breathe! Come now, she’s not going to disappear.”

Tikos cut in as his Mother shot his Father a cross look. He could sense the argument and decided to spare Kipling for now. The two of them could argue for days some times.

“Let me introduce you. μητέρα, татко, this is Kipling Bronne.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you!” Kip spoke up, quietly thankful that Tikos gave her an opening. In only a minute she understood where he got his love of talking.

“Aye, όμορφο κορίτσι*, we’re looking forward to getting to know you. I’m Thalia and this is my husband Adrijan but you may just call us Lia and Adri.”

Finally releasing Kipling, Lia turned her attention back to Tikos and launched into her usual barrage of questions. Why are you so skinny, why have you been away so long, who’s cutting your hair, etc. Adri took the opportunity to shake Kipling’s hand and place a kiss on her cheek in greeting.

“Don’t mind Lia, she’s very excitable.”

Kip smiled back at him and nodded.

“I think I know someone like that as well,” she said and glanced over at Tikos who had dissolved into his native tongue and was speaking just as fast as Lia back and forth. Adri laughed and gestured up the dock for them.

Kip and Adri chatted as they led the small group back up into Nevivon to their small house. Lia and Tikos seemed to never even break in their bickering for air.

The day was just as much a whirlwind as the beginning and Kipling found herself completely immersed in the Katsaros-Yakinthos family. ‘Relatives’ of all kinds popped in throughout the day to see them and bring gifts while Lia and Adri were eager to hear all about Kip and her life. The gardener worried about seeming boring next to all the excitement but the two hung on her every word with fascination and smiles. Especially when Kip told them she was a gardener as they admitted they couldn’t keep a plant alive no matter how hard they tried. Kip offered to give them some advice but soon she had a whole crowd of lifelong seafarers stopping to listen as they passed by.

In no time at all to her, Kipling found herself out of breath sitting by a bonfire on a beach while Tikos continued dancing with a myriad of people to lively music. She watched him as he moved so easily with a genuine smile that seemed so natural on his face. While he’d offered to sit with her she’d waved him off, it was much better to admire him from her vantage point. It was as if the years just melted off of him and he looked his age for once. For all his laid back attitude and easy smiles she realized he was still carrying so many scars inside and out. While she sat she pulled the bracelets back out to continue on them. They weren’t quite finished yet and she hadn’t really had a moment to focus on them.

“Do you mind?”

A voice broke her out of her thoughts and Kip looked up to see Lia gesturing to the seat next to her.

“No! Not at all.”

“Wonderful,” Lia smiled and sat down with a content sigh. “Ah what a day it has been!”

Kip nodded in agreement, keeping her hands moving but glancing up occasionally.

“It warms this Mother’s heart to see her only child so happy,” she spoke slowly for once and with great purpose.

“If... if you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you have any more? I was surprised when Tikos told me he was an only child.”

“No child, ask me whatever you wish. It is a simple answer. Adri and I were great enemies for many years. Too proud to give up our feud over the sea. When we finally realized our love we thought it was too late for any children at all. Zotikos was a gift. From the sky, the sea, whoever. A most wonderful gift.”

Lia looked over and smiled with Kip.

“He is very taken with you.”

That brought the heat rushing back up to Kip’s cheeks and she shyly looked back at her hands.

“I am happy. I feared he would be too stubborn like Adri and I,” she laughed. “He’s never brought someone home so we know you are special.”

“Never?” Somehow the knowledge that she was the only person he’d brought home to meet his parents made everything seem so much more... intimate.

“No. He has never even mentioned another before. Now you might say he could just keep things from his old Mother but no, he would tell me if he met someone.”

Kip looked back at her pirate dancing without a care in the world. She wondered if he’d been lonely all this time. Then she turned back to Lia and held out the completed bracelets for her and Adri.

“For you both, I wanted to give them to you earlier but… you know…,” she gestured broadly while trying to find the right words.

Lia laughed and nodded, not needing anymore explanation. She held a wrist out so Kipling could put the bracelet on her.

“I love it, όμορφο κορίτσι.” Lia assured her and gave her a fond kiss on the cheek.

Despite the nerves, the long voyage, and the overwhelming day Kipling realized that she’d grown to understand her lover much deeper. Maybe that made it all worth it. She liked to think it did.

Sitting there by the fire while surrounded by joy and laughter. Opening up new sides of one Zotikos Orion Katsaros-Yakinthos, mystery pirate who had always seemed so carefree. A warmth started to spread in her heart that blossomed when a single brown eye found hers.

—-

Combination of Greek and Macedonian words

μητέρα - Mother

татко - Father

το μωρό μου - My baby

Γεια σου - A welcome

љубов моја - My love

όμορφο κορίτσι - Beautiful girl

[slasherholic]

synopsis: Michael’s stalking is interrupted when someone tries to hit on him. You have to break the news to him: it’s because he’s stupid sexy.

Oblivious | Michael Myers x Reader

He stands on the curb at the edge of the park and watches her like a hawk from the shade of a gnarled oak. The girl sits on a swing and her pen moves back and forth across her page and the breeze tousles her hair into loose strands and he can see her shivering.

His breaths come slowly. He barely moves. The urge to pounce seethes in every fiber of his muscles and his body is wound with all the tension of a loaded pistol. 

Soon. Her back is turned towards him; she wouldn’t see him coming. Soon. 

But not yet.

A man with a dog walks past on the sidewalk. A woman in tight clothing runs down the street. Two boys throw a ball on the grass. The others do not see him. Some glance in his direction—and they notice him, but they do not see him. They cannot see him. Because he does not wear the mask. 

If he strikes, they will see. They will see on his bare face the mask and in his empty fists the knife and they will know him as he truly is. 

He will wait.

He had followed her from the house on foot. He had lurked just out of view as she stood in her room and gathered up her books and her bag and all the while her head was like a swivel. She was looking for him. Expecting him. An eagerness swelled in his chest and his fingers twitched and sought the familiar weight of deadly steel. She had been well-within striking distance. One lunge and he could have had her by the throat. His body pulsed with excitement. But his mind was clear. Focused. 

It was not time yet. The girl had not seen him then—but she felt him. 

He had filled his lungs with strong breaths and resigned himself to patience. He would watch her. Follow. Wait. And when she no longer saw him lurking in every shadow, when she no longer steeled for his approach at every creak of the house around her, when she no longer felt his hands on her body in every gust of wind, when she thought he could not reach her, when he was the furthest thing from her mind, when she was safe—

Then. Then he would strike.

He watched the girl as she zipped up her bag and flew down the stairs and turned the doorknob and slipped out the door. He followed her down the street. He kept his distance and matched her pace. The girl walked for a block and then thought herself safe from him. She stared down at the sidewalk beneath her feet as she went and did not look around. 

She turned off into a park. He watched her sit down and take out her books and begin to write.

She has not moved since. And neither has he.

The park is empty when the girl stands up from the swing. She gathers her books into her arms. She cuts back across the grass. He watches. The running woman in tight clothes passes him on the street again. Closer this time. But he does not turn his head to study her; his focus on his prey is steadfast.

The prey starts down the sidewalk again and now she is coming closer to him. Closer to the shade of the oak. Closer. She is looking at the ground. Closer. He will strike fast. He will clamp his hand down over her mouth. And trap her against the tree. And watch her eyes grow wide. And let her squirm. And let her struggle. And let her—

“Hey.”

...An Interruption. 

His head turns slowly. 

It is the woman in tight clothes. She leans against a park bench. He stares at her. She looks at him. She smiles. 

“I know it’s super out of the blue, but do you live around here?”

He breathes. She is not talking to him. He waits for her to look away. 

...But she does not look away. She smiles more. Laughs.

“Sorry if I’m being too forward.”

She steps away from the bench. He feels her eyes sweeping his body. She watches him. She watches him like he watches the girl.

“I swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

...She is not talking to another. Her words are meant for him. 

She sees the Shape. She knows.

~

“...On the cover of a magazine, maybe?”

Comes the flirtatious voice from off to your left, followed by some nervous giggling. It pulls you from your thoughts and you glance up from the sidewalk. A jogger in spandex tights stands in the shade and coils the end of her ponytail around her finger.

Your mouth falls agape and you nearly drop your bag. Because then, you notice who she’s talking to.

A tall figure lurks in the shade of a thick tree trunk. It’s Michael. He stands perfectly still and melds with the shadows like a panther. The winding sidewalk would have taken you right past him; an ambush. 

Your heart races. Twenty more seconds and he’d have had you.

But now, his cover is blown—and if you’re overhearing this tragically one-sided conversation correctly he’s about to be asked out.

Although his hands are not around the woman’s throat just yet you can see the quiet bloodlust brewing in Michael’s eyes. The woman is offering herself up to him on a silver platter.

Please don’t do something stupid. You beg him, as if he can read your thoughts. Please don’t do something stupid.

You gather the pieces of your shattered composure and abandon the sidewalk, beelining across the grass. Michael’s eyes flit to you as you approach. He studies you callously. Then turns his head and stares again at the woman in front of him. You are no longer his priority.

“Anyway, I just thought I’d try my luck. Would you wanna grab a coffee with me some—?”

“Excuse me,” You interrupt. The jogger’s voice trails off. She glances over her shoulder at you. Her lips press finely together and she glares like you just called her some foul name.

Without thought, you do something that you know could very well get you into deep shit later. You do it anyway, because you need to get Michael away from here. Away from these witnesses. Out of this public place.

You brush intimately up against Michael’s side and intertwine your fingers through his. You grip his calloused hand with the eagerness of a star-crossed lover. And you try your damndest to look normal for the both of you, because you know that Michael won’t.

“He’s taken.”

Michael doesn’t even look at you as you touch him. His fingers twitch impatiently. He starts to squeeze your hand. He squeezes until his knuckles turn white. It takes all your willpower to keep the grimace off your face—Michael is telling you where he’d rather be putting his fingers right now. 

The woman pouts at you.

“Alright. Have a good one, then.” She says, in a too-sweet tone, before turning on her heel and jogging away down the sidewalk. Michael’s stare lingers after her.

“Please,” You whisper up at him. “Let’s just go.”

You take a step back and try to pull him away from the tree. Michael doesn’t budge. He anchors the two of you firmly in place and studies the retreating jogger, and just like that you know the woman’s fate is sealed. You try not to think about it. You just need to get him home.

“Michael.”

He ignores you. Doesn’t move a muscle. Hardly even breathes.

“She doesn’t know. I promise.”

You hear him exhale, long and steady. Still he ignores you. You doubt he’s even listening. You abandon tact and jump straight to the point.

“Look. Listen. She wasn’t threatening you. She was just flirting. Do you even know what that means?”

A beat passes. Michael looks down at you and his stare is cold. It always is. But it is not totally impassive; a glimmer of inquisitiveness flashes in his eyes. Something you said has caught his attention.

“It...well, it means you’re hot.”

Now, Michael’s stare is blank. No hint of understanding flickers on his face. A poor choice of words on your part—he’s not following. 

You force out an exhale and try to reiterate. This is going to be hard. 

“I mean, you’re attractive. Like, your face. And your body. Really attractive. In a way that makes people want to have sex with you. And… ask you out for coffee.”

Michael blinks. You can almost see the gears turning in his head. You aren’t sure if you’ve gotten through to him; either way, you’re grateful that his curiosity has kept him from committing a murder in broad daylight.

You shoulder your bag and unzip it with the hand that isn’t currently being crushed in Michael’s grip. He watches you closely as you take out your hand mirror and hold it up for him to see.

“Just... look. I know you don’t care. But please. Look at yourself and try to understand what I’m telling you.”

Michael’s harsh gaze lingers on your face as you speak. Then, his eyes flitting down to the mirror, he turns his scrutinizing glare on his own reflection. 

He doesn’t blink as he studies himself. You wonder what he sees. 

You wonder if he notices the way his unbrushed hair falls in gentle waves around his face. You wonder if he notices the symmetry in his features, in the graceful curve of his jaw, in the slight pout of his rosy lips. Most of all, you wonder what Michael sees in his own eyes. You wonder if he recognizes his piercing gaze for what it is—the leer of a ruthless predator. Captivating. Mesmerizing. Hard to look at; harder still to look away from.

Or if he just sees eyes. Just a face. As unremarkable to him as all the rest.

~

He looks at the mirror. The smudge on the glass is more interesting to him than the reflection. But still he looks. The face in the mirror is his own. It is different now than it had been; the hair is dark. The eye that no longer sees is scarred and white. 

His curiosity in these things is momentary. His interest fades as abruptly as it was sparked. He does not understand the girl’s meaning. And he no longer cares.

~

Michael studies himself for hardly five seconds. When he looks away from the mirror his grip eases off your hand. The jogger is now a blurry figure in the distance, and as Michael starts down the winding sidewalk after her you know that there is nothing on heaven or earth you can do to make him see the meaning behind your words.

Just as a tiger could never comprehend that is renowned for its beauty,

Michael will never understand that he is, in fact, stupidly gorgeous.

[xmalereader]

The Mandalorian X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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@deceasedxx

Requested: hi hi!! i saw that requests were open so,, how about the mandalorian x a handsome and chaotic male reader where the reader is a (really freaking good) pilot? i don't really have any ideas plot wise but i absolutely adore baby yoda so perhaps something involving the adorable space baby UwU. and maybe some nsfw if you're cool with that? thank you in advance!!

Warnings: Slight NSFW, flirting, baby yoda, chaos, arguing, space dads, husbands, language, jealousy.

-

-

“WOOHOO!!”

“For the love of kriff y/n, calm down!!”

The razor crest was in full speed as they were trying to escape the small fleet of guild hunters. The pilot was gripping the controllers and pressing random buttons at a quick speed. The Mandalorian was gripping his chair as his partner controlled the razor crest, the child that sat next to him was suddenly giggling and holding his small arms up, enjoying the sudden “ride”.

“Hold on!!” The pilot shouts, pulling the controllers back as the razor crest does a sharp 360, he quickly adjusts the weapons and target the three at the same time. “Bye bye.” He says as he shot down all three ships. “Yes!!” He fist bumps the air in victory. “Did you see that?! I saved us!”

Din had a hand over his heart as he breaths in panic. “You are never allowed to pilot the crest again.” His pilot only pouts with crossed arms before turning to see the small green bean kicking his legs around with joy and happiness. “At least the little one enjoyed it.” He removed himself from the pilots seat and allowed Din to take control now as y/n cooed at the child.

“Another day another credit.”

Here in the razor crest stood the legendary bounty hunter, accompanied by his one and only husband; y/n. The child was also with them since they have been raising him together as a proper family.

Din met y/n during a bounty hunt, he was a chaotic little bastard but that didn’t stop Din from liking him. He was one of the best pilots since he used to work for the resistance and had shot down many people before, at first Din didn’t like the fact of Y/n being an ex-resistant but somehow the other was able to seduce Din into liking him. The two would flirt with each other everyday, tossing lines back and forth or bad puns that y/n would randomly create.

They’ve been working together for years and during those years they started dating. The two really enjoyed each other’s companies and sometimes Din needed the chaotic male around to cheer him up. It was four years ago when the two got married, y/n had to learn the Mandalorian culture and how they worked things out when it came to marriage. So, in the end y/n received a baskar ring that fit him perfectly but instead of wearing it on his finger he decided to wear it as a necklace, keeping it safer.

It was also the day that Din revealed his face to y/n, the Mandalorian culture allowed him to reveal their face to their future spouse and only to them, no one else unless they decide to quit the bounty hunting life and settle down without any trouble. But that didn’t stop Din from continuing his bounty hunts which y/n gladly joined.

Now with the with married they became stronger and with the child in their care they became a family.

——

“How’s my little green bean doing, eh?” Y/n carried the child around the razor crest. He was organizing the kids bed, getting him ready for his nap. It usually took Din ten minutes to put the kid to sleep but with y/n the child would fall asleep instantly ( which Din was jealous of ).

The child cooed, his ears lowering down slowly as he watched his guardian hum, fixing up the small bed with some extra blankets.

“There we go, it’s all done and made let’s just hope that your comfortable enough to sleep.” The other bends down to pick up the kid, who clings onto him in an instant. This causes y/n to giggle, “Time for your nap, you need your energy.” He whispered, gently stroking his large ears which caused the child to coo in delight as he slowly began to doze off, it only took a few seconds before the kid was out cold.

Y/n smiles and closed the door. “So that’s your secret?” He gasps in surprise, turning around to see Din leaning against the wall with crossed arms. “It’s easy, stroking his ears is kind of like having someone play with your hair until you fall asleep.” He grins, walking over to his own husband he placed both hands on either side of the baskar helmet and slowly lifts it up. Back then Din would stop him from removing his helmet but since they are married it wasn’t much of a problem anymore.

Once the helmet was removed and placed down. The other couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Din, “See? Handsome as ever.” He moved his hand to brush back Din’s semi long hair, leaning in to place a kiss on the corner of his lips. “Aren’t you the better looking one?” Din flirts out with a smirk. Y/n chuckled, “Nah, your the better looking one.” He bites his lip, his fingers tapping against the beskar chest plate. “I’m gonna wash up, don’t wake up the kid.” He warns out before pecking him on the lips and pulling away from the Mandalorian.

Din frowns. “Your just gonna leave me like this?” He reaches out to grab his husbands wrist and pulls him back, the other squeaks in surprise as he’s pushed against the razor crest wall, Din presses up against him. The two were chest to chest as y/n whines, “let me wash up first.” He suddenly has his arms wrapped around Dins neck. “In order to wash up you have to be dirty and from the looks of it, you aren’t dirty at all.” He whispered to him as the two press their foreheads together. Y/n bites his lip and smirks evilly, grinding his hips up against him as his arms tighten around his shoulders. “You gonna get me dirty?” He says in a teasing tone which only riled up the Mandalorian. “Kriff.” He pulls y/n towards their own bed, causing the other to giggle in delight as he’s forced down in the bed.

Y/n bites his lip seductively and spreads his legs open, wrapping them around Din’s waist as he watched the mandalorian remove his own baskar armor. “Any day now.”

“Shut up.” Din says through gritted teeth as he works fast. The two laugh together, y/n lies his head back and kicks off his shoes. “I remember when we first had sex, it was right after our ceremony you were pretty impatient.”

“Well when your husband looks that good on your wedding night than you wouldn’t done the same thing.” He was bare in front of Y/n, smirking at him he leans down to capture his lips into a deep kiss, causing the other to moan deeply. “to many layers.” He finally says, getting the other to sit up and undress as well. The two spent the night in each other’s embrace, the razor crest was filled with moans and groans. They were glad that they had sound proof walls inside the kids room or else they would get busted and probably scar the kid to death.

Din was enjoying the sounds that his husband was making, leaning close to his ear as he lets out breathy moans, feelin the other thrust down against him. His hips moving up and down. Gripping his arms and tightening his legs around Din’s waist. “Din—“ he leans his head back only to feel a pair of lips against his neck, giggling softly he leads his hand down to cup his husbands cheek. “Your stubble is tickling me.”

“Would you rather it have it tickling your neck or between your legs?”

Y/n blushes at the comment before biting his lip. “Either works for me.” He gasps out as he felt him hit his sentisve spot. “Found it.” Din grins down at him, he fixes his postion and sat up with Y/n’s legs on either side of his hips. “Relax...” he reaches out to stroke his husbands member, Y/n gasps between whines and whimpered as his legs shook. “Just move—!”

It didnt take Din long enough for him to thrust his hips forward, hitting his partners senstive spot over and over again. Only to get loud moans in return, he gripped the bed sheets with his hands and would bite into the pillow as the two fucked like animals. “I’m close—!” Y/n shouts out as Din slowly nods and grips his hips, pulling him in deeper before giving one last hard thrust and releasing his load.

The two were a dirty mess and panting heavily, the room was warm for them and it smelled of sex. “that was better than this morning.” Said Y/n, earning a scoff and an eye roll from Din. “Shut up you enjoy it all the time.” He replied back and lied down next ot his lover, pulling him close by the waist and planting a kiss on his neck and shoulder. The two remained in bed together for the rest of the flight to their new destination.

—

“Sorgan? Seriously?”

“Got any better places to go?”

The razor crest had landed in the deep Forest of Sorgan, it was a nice and peaceful planet and pretty big than any other planet. “You two stay here while I go get some lodging and I mean it Y/n, stay.” He hands the child ot his partner. The child and pilot watched the mandalorian leave the cockpit with them behind. “You hear that? Did he say to follow him?” Said Y/n, smirking down at the child. Din should know y/n well enough to know that he was going out follow him either way.

Y/n and the kid stood next to Din as the ramp opens. He glanced at the two and sighs deeply. “What the hell, lets go.” This earns Y/n a victory high five from the small child. The three of them made their way around the planet, finding a place to stop by and eat and meet a so-called new friend that Din had suddenly made, he watched the two wrestle themselves to the ground. Y/n could only lean against one of the huts as he cleans his goggles, he watched as the two point their blasters at each other only to have the kid interrupt them with his own slurping. “You done?”

Din sighs and lets his head drop and says, “You want to some soup?” Y/n rolls his eyes and picks up the child and heads back inside to properly eat his own food this time without anyone running away.

—

“I don’t like her.”

“Who? Cara?”

“No, her.”

Din sees him gestured towards the door way, where Omera had walked out. “She’s just being nice, no need to be jealous.” He moves to sit down by the window, pulling the tray of food towards himself as he removes his helmet. “I’m not jealous.” He mumbled out in a childish way which only the mandalorian found adorable in some odd weird way. “Just eat, we came to help and then after that will leave to a different planet.”

“You planned to stay longer.” Y/n sits acrosss from him and grabs his loaf of bread and stuffs it into his mouth, holding back his pouts. “It’ll go by fast, you won’t even notice.” He addds, Eating his own food as he watched his own husband. “I know what you are thinking.” The pilot continued to stuff his face with food, avoiding himself from speaking to Din. “You think she’s going to do something that’ll tick you off.” He leans back in his seat and looks out the window to see their own kid playing with the other children. He noticed how Omera was easily bonding with the kid, “She’s good with kids and is kind too.”

Y/n closed his eyes, his nostrils flare in anger but he tries his best to hide it from Din, grabbing his cup of water and swallowing it all down in one go. “But she’s nothing like you.” The pilot nearly chokes on his water, clearing his throat as he swallows down everything. “W-what?’ He chokes out.

Din chuckled at his reaction. “I married you because I love you not because of your looks or anything, your personality is a big chaotic but I sometimes enjoy it and your very good with the kid, he seems to like you more than me when I saved him in the end.” He sets down his own cup. “We made an oath to always stick together and to love each other forever, I mean you stil wear your ring right?”

Y/n looks down at his lap shyly as he slips his fingers under his collar shirt, pulling out a silver band that held his ring. Din only smiles, leaning close he uses his thumb and index finger to lift up his head by the chin. Y/n avoids his his brown eyes, “Look at me.” He hears Din say, sighing in defeat he makes eye contact only to see Din smile and learn forward to kiss him passionalty. “I love you.” He breaths out.

Y/n slowly smiles, “I love you too.” He says back as the two chuckle happily.

[kokaizhu]

Hello ^^ May I request a scenario where Sanemi and his s/o (gender neutral) meet a dog on their mission and the dog starts to follow Sanemi wherever he goes, which makes their s/o giggly. Also, can it be a with gentle!s/o. Thank you so much ^^

Obtained New Companion.

A/N:

I hope this is up to your expectations and turned out well! It was fun to do, especially with dog in it, also apologies if Sanemi seems/is OOC! >w< but other than that, thank you for requesting and enjoy!💕 ^^

_____________

"Sanemi-kun~!" The familiar voice of his lover called as they came up behind the white-haired male.

The man turned with his arms crossed and a slight scowl upon his scarred features. "Took ya long enough! Gather anything useful?" He grunted, leaning in close.

They shook their head. "No, unfortunatly... Not a single idea nor lead towards the whereabouts of the demon. Seems li- Oh, a dog!" They pointed out, seeing a dog happily prancing it's way towards the couple.

Sanemi gritted his teeth at his lover being easily distracted from their mission by a simple stray. "So what? Focus on our task at hand,(Y/n)!" He growled as the dog came and sat at their feet, tongue lolling out and panting.

"Aha, sorry Sanemi-kun," his lover scratched the back of their head bashfully. "But look! It's cute!"

Sanemi looked at them unamused and bent to shoo off the dog that just continued to sit there and tilted its head to the side.

"Go on somewhere, mutt."

The dog responded by standing with a happy yip as it pranced back and forth, lowering its front with another yip.

(Y/n) giggled at the antics, bringing a hand up to cover their mouth. "Be nice, Sanemi.. He means no harm"

"Tch... Whatever, we got a job to do! It better stay."

Sanemi's brow twitched as he just marched off to continue on with his mission, find the damn demon and behead it. He doesn't have time for the cute furballs shenanigans... Wait cute? No, no, he did not think that at all! Back to it now!

(Y/n) chuckled, giving the fluffy dog a gentle pat on the head before jogging to catch up with their partner. Not noticing the dog happily galloping behind them with its lolling tongue.

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

"Sanemi-kun, take it easy alright?" (Y/n) huffed as they jumped back to dodge another attack once again from a demon. "You're hurt enough as is ."

"Sorry but, no can do, (Y/n). The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can be on our..... WAY!" Sanemi grinned wickedly as he slashed the demon down and the being disintegrated. He turned back to his lover who smiled with slightly furrowed brows as he sheathed his sword.

"Geez, are you gonna be alright?" (Y/n) sheathed their blade, walking up to them to examine the fresh wound on his shoulder carefully. Bringing out their pack to treat the wound before Sanemi grabbed at their wrist.

"It can wait until we get to the place... So no worries since now we can- *BARK BARK*! Urgh!" Sanemi growled as the dog from before interrupted him as it emerged from bushes. Making its way towards the pillars feet as it pranced playfully around the man.

*BARK BARK *!

"Seems he likes you very much, Sanemi-kun~" (Y/n) giggled at the playful puppers and lovers face.

With a dejected sigh, Sanemi looked down at the dog with a newly found frown on his features. Keeping up his tough front as the dog looked up at him, tilting its head cutely at him as his lover continued to giggle at the circumstances by his side. Tightly shutting his eyes and the shake of his head, he turned and walked away. "We're going to the rest stop, let's go (Y/n)!"

"But Sanemi-kun," snickering, they watched as the dog followed close behind him. Which Sanemi didn't seem to notice as he continued to walk away further and further "Seems we have a new companion now." (Y/n) sighed with a giggle, shaking their head.

Bonus!:

Once reaching the compound, Sanemi turned to grab for his lover.... Only to met with an empty space. His heart dropped with panic, frantically glancing around until-

*BARK*!

Slowly, looking down, he's met with the same dog from before..... Again.

It sat there with its sparkling dark eyes staring up at him and he staring back intensely.

"Y-You..." His lips pursed. He... He doesn't know what to say anymore as they continued to stare at each other. Many thoughts racing through his head, wondering where's his lover and why this dog continues to follow him religiously despite his demands.

·

·

·

Releasing an audible sigh(probably for the millionth time), he plopped onto the ground criss-crossed, head rest in hand that he propped up onto his leg and narrowed his eyes at the pup that moved its way onto his lap. Propping its front paws on his chest, it licked his scarred face.

"Alright, you win." Sanemi grumbled tiredly with a small smile, bring his hand up to scratch at the dogs head.

*BARK BARK*!

[jonogueirawrites]

Save me from myself

Chapter 14 

AO3.

Summary:

Lillian hates rain. She hates it because it brings thunders with it. The loud noise always brings the worst in her, and the only thing she has left is to look for safety.

TW: smut, lemon.

James.

The steam leaked under the bathroom door, filling the dark room with questions and confusion. The curtain half drawn hiding the threatening clouds that hid the starry night.

The hot water slid down her skin and dripped onto the white floor, running down the drain, taking with it her thoughts and leaving her mind a complete and absolute blank.

Her trembling fingers ran over her hair and face, forcing her to come back to the present. Her thoughts had wandered and wondered, come and gone, but always in an endless circle. His lips on her skin and his body close to hers. His voice sure and unafraid… His promise filled with honesty and hope.

There was no mistaking the sincerity in his eager eyes. He would stay with her no matter what came against them. Death and life. Order and consequence. Soldier and civilian. The white wolf and the flower. Man and woman. Bucky and Lillian. One.

Her eyes closed when her lungs filled with the shower steam. Her body started shaking because the heat of the box was long gone, so she took her hand from the closed valve and reached for her towel. Giving her body a quick dry, she stepped out of the place and stood in front of the mirror.

Cleaning the foggy mirror with her left hand, she studied her tired face with a long deep sigh. Cold water dripped from her hair on her warm skin, making her aware of her surroundings. The leave-in she kept on the bathroom reminded her that she was somewhere safe. Home.

Her fingers dug into the cream and combed her hair. Even if she didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but remember his fingers on it. The hairdryer stopped the cold droplets, and she was almost ready to bed.

Throwing the towel on the bedroom floor, she allowed the night wind to caress her body.  An old and oversized t-shirt would have to be enough, she didn’t want anything against her skin, and so a comfy pair of boyshorts finished her looks. Wanting to end the long day, she dragged her feet to her bed, where she fell with low noise, throwing the covers over her.

The small space in the open curtain allowed the place to be lit with the moon’s shy light. Her rhythmic breathing was the only sound reverberating the walls, but the heavy clouds that neared the compound silently wanted to remind her that not all was finished. The night was still young.

The first thunder shook her body awake. Her hands clasped the cover when she bolted upright on the bed. Wide-eyed, she stared at the starless sky and bit her lower lip. Cursing, she threw the fabric over her head and hid from the world in the comfortable and familiar dark. Unfortunately, that familiarity brought with it old ghosts, old demons.

Bruised knuckles and face. Hair caked with blood. Smoke rising from a gun. Her head high when she put it away under her clothes, the heat of the barrel burning her skin. Too many faces. Too many sins.

She could swear the thunder shook the windows; the cold raindrops that followed it hit the glass in search of her. To lash out, to remind, to punish her for her mistakes. Another thunder, and her body was thrown out of bed. She covered her ears with both hands and swung back and forth.

The lightings crossing the sky sending devilish shadows on the walls. The dark figures mocking her for being weak. Yelling at her to end it all. Cursing her soul to hell.

Curling down on the floor, she saw light coming from outside, and she crawled towards safety. Her fingers opened the door, and she knew exactly how she could be saved.

-----

Bucky turned the shower off and carelessly dried his body and hair. Without looking at the mirror, he left the bathroom and sat on his bed. His fingers ran over his face and stopped at his lips. With a wistful sigh, he lay on his bed after putting on his grey t-shirt.

A sudden knock on his door caught his attention, and he lazily stood up, taking his time to tuck his hair behind his ear.

His hand curled around the knob, and the knocking began once again, this time louder and more urgent. His heart raced, and he could feel the adrenaline kicking in. When he opened the door, Lilly’s eyes stared at him wide-eyed, and terror greeted him from deep inside them.

He pulled the door open for her to enter, her figure taking his breath with her. Instead of heading to the chair or the bed, she crouched on the darkest corner and hugged her knees. It was funny how things had changed.

“I’m here.” He walked to her after pushing the door close. Shrouding them in half-darkness. “I’m not going anywhere.” He pulled her onto his lap and tucked her hair behind her ear. His hand never left her waist.

Bucky watched the way she looked at him. Her eyes traveling over his features. How she raised her trembling hand to caress his cheek. The way she curled on his lap when a thunder made its presence known.

“James, I…” Her fragile voice made him feel furious. The anger inside him flared.

Why did his name on her lips make him feel like that? Why did it make him want to fight the world? He would give her all and everything. No questions asked, no time wasted.

He would fight and win. He would kill and die.

She only needed to ask.

But why? Why and how she had so much power over him?

Fuck!

Things would be easier if she didn’t make him feel vulnerable. Comfortable and in charge of himself again.

Needed. Wanted.

In love.

His eyes never left her quivering lips. Teasing, imploring, saying his name.

“Please,” her fingers found his nape, her nails digging into his skin. Closing her eyes, a single thick tear rolled down her face. A simple request left her mouth, one that changed it all, “please, James.” She pulled him closer and whispered on his lips. “Kiss me.”

The world had stopped or was it just his heart? Had everything always been that perfect, or was it her lips on his that changed it all?

Bucky had been through a lot, but nothing compared to the heady sensations he was feeling. Her teeth grazed his lip, only to have her tongue slide over it. Her fingers pushed his head back just enough for a whimper to escape her mouth and make him lose complete control. He was at her mercy and he didn’t want it any other way.

“James.” There it was again. His name on her lips, his will on her hands. Her mouth found his again. The kiss was urgent, demanding, but most of all, it was merciful; bliss.

The one thing he wanted most was in his arms. His hidden desire became true, she gave him water when he had wandered the desert for years. She gave him food when he had starved for decades. She gave him breath when he was dead for centuries.

His hands lifted her to accommodate her better on his lap. Her legs were bare, and his hands traveled on her body, his flesh fingers could feel every bump on her excited skin.

There, with her legs on both sides of him, kneeling on the floor so she could tower him and push him against the cold wall, she was once again the powerful woman he admired so much. The goddess who came to be with him.

His fingers dug her waist and brought her down, closer to him. His lips trailed down her jaw, desperate wishing to hear her moaning again, moaning because of him. Her whimpers only urged him on, but it was only when his teeth met her neck that he heard her sweet unrestrained plea.

She tilted his chin up, cupping his face and claiming his mouth once again. His hands traveled down her waist, his mind cursing the fabric of her t-shirt. As soon as his metal hand brushed her skin, he noticed the way her body reacted, trembling under his touch. His hands rested under her thighs, bringing her body ever so close, when there was no more space left in between them, his arms embraced her. One hand pulling her head down harder to his lips, the other on the small of her back, keeping her in place.

Her hands made their way down, her fingers splayed across his chest, pushing him just enough to find the hem of his t-shirt and take it off, throwing it over her head. One of her hands stopped on his chest, the fingers of the other traced the scars on his shoulder and caressed them.

Her eyes met his, but instead of repulsion, he only saw him. Him the man, not the soldier. The lover, not the murderer.

His hand held her elbow. His thumb lightly ran up her skin until it found her wrist. His lips found her pulse point. His eyes observed her watching his every move. With the tip of his index finger, he caressed her palm until he held her hand and placed it again against his scars, cradling it there. She bit her lip, and all he wanted was to kiss her again and get lost in her touch, but she leaned forward, taking her hand from his chest and caressing his lower lip with her thumb.

He felt his head hit the wall behind him when her mouth touched his neck, and her teeth nibbled his earlobe. His fingers tightened the grasp around her hand when he heard her whisper his name in his ear. A sinful moan escaped him when she raked her nails down his stomach, reaching for his sweatpants.

“Are you sure about this?” His voice was strained when he got a hold of her hands, stopping her from going further a path he didn’t know he could stop. He didn’t want to stop. His eyes remained closed; he didn’t want to see her face the moment she would reject him.

“Look at me.” His head bumped the wall again, he refused to let her see his soul being crushed. Not again, not by her. “James…” Fuck! Why did she have to say his name? Didn’t she know what she did to him? All those trigger words just got replaced by one. One he eagerly waited to hear. His head tilted up, and his eyes bore into hers. “I trust you.” It was all he needed to hear.

He pulled her close once again. Standing up, he felt her legs hooking around his waist, her hands splayed across his back and her mouth against his.

They fell on the bed, and Bucky got rid of her t-shirt, finally allowing himself to feel her, taste her… pleasure her.

His tongue made circles around her nipples, and he couldn’t help but indulge in them. His knee between her thighs gave him perfect space to slowly circle her clit. He felt her shiver and heard her moaning. He trailed her body up with kisses until he reached her mouth, claiming it with fervor.

Her body reacted to his touch. Her nails on his scalp eliciting moans from his mouth, sending goosebumps all over his body. Making him whisper her name like a mantra.

Lillian’s breath hitched, and he watched her tilt her head back and close her eyes. His heart beat faster. All he wanted was to burn that image in his head, turn that scene a forever moment. Love her every second of the day.

Her chest rose and fell. Her lips parted, and he took advantage to kiss her. His fingers always moving, not letting her think. Suddenly her arms circled his neck, her forehead touched his. Her moaning escaping her mouth and her body trembling under his.

He watched her. So beautiful, so powerful, and his.

Between kissing her all over and caressing her body, he gave her time to catch her breath. To fully come down from her high.

She still had her eyes closed when she smiled. His nose brushed hers when she looked at him. She tucked his hair behind his ear and just stood there, observing his face, tracing his features.

Tilting her head up, she kissed him. Her hand pushed his body over until he was on his back. She straddled him, her eyes watching his chest rise and fall, her fingers brushing his skin.

“You’re perfect.” Her smile open and honest. He parted his lips to reply, but she shushed him with a light kiss. “Perfect,” she whispered on his lips.

Leaving open mouth kisses on her way down, she teased him with her tongue, licking under the hem of his sweatpants. After what felt like an eternity, his body was bare for her to admire. And she did so, eating him with her eyes.

His gaze never left her body when she stood to get rid of her boyshorts. He swallowed hard when she crawled on the bed and sat on his thighs. Her nails leaving light rosy marks on his skin. His chest, his stomach, and his thighs displaying her power over him.

Her smile made him crave her lips on his, but she was quicker and pushed him down, back on the bed. Sitting on his lap, she forced him to watch her slowly sinking onto him.

Bucky tasted blood when he bit his moan shut. His fingers grabbed her waist, and as much as he tried to control himself, he knew there would be bruises on her heated skin came morning.

His back arched when she was fully sited. His thumbs made circles around her hip.

They looked at each other and not even the thunders outside their little bubble, their little private moment interrupted their connection.

They were one.

He was hers, and she was his.

And it wasn’t just a thought. A mere wish whispered into the darkness. They were together for real this time.

No one would take them apart.

Bucky’s flesh hand traced her legs, feeling her trembling under his touch. She leaned on his chest and started to move. His metal hand landed on her waist and helped her set a delicious pace.

They had all the time in the world, and he let her enjoy herself. He watched her body react to him and listened to the sounds coming from her. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her wrist. He felt her around him and unable to control himself, sat up on the bed, and embraced her. His flesh fingers between them and his metal ones holding her in place.

Lost in time and in themselves, they didn’t notice when the rain stopped. His focus solely on her and hers on him.

He wanted to hear more from her. Whispering, saying, screaming his name. Telling him to pleasure her, but from her mouth, he only heard gasps and moans, and that was better than any words.

Hands roughly grabbing his shoulders, trying to keep balance. Her face buried on his neck. Her mouth sucking on his skin.

She kissed him. Desperately, deeply and then gently.

Her lips telling him how much she wanted him, needed him… trusted him.

“James,” her voice silk in his ears, “promise me.” Her breath on his face, her eyes looking at him.

“I’m yours, Lilly.” He pulled her close. His hands on her waist, keeping the heated pace of their lovemaking.

“And I, yours.” She rested her forehead on his, and they got lost in their climax.

When her breathing became shallow in his arms, and her body grew relaxed, he carefully laid her on the bed. Her head rested on his flesh arm while his metal fingers drew patterns on her skin.

She turned to face him and planted a small kiss on his nose. Giggling when he looked at her surprised, she sat on the bed with her back to him.

“Lilly?” His chest was suddenly heavy. Had he done something wrong? Had he misinterpreted everything?

Turning her head over her shoulder, she reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers, pulling him out of bed and leading him to the bathroom.

After a quick shower and lots of kisses, they returned to bed, where Bucky pulled her to sleep with her head on his chest and his fingers running over her head. Right before falling asleep himself, he saw her tangle her leg on his and place her hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer to her.

I hope you liked.

Likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

Next chapter

[hellowkatey]

The Come Up (Bucky x Reader)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18701557/chapters/44353861

Friends to lovers trope cause I’m a sucker for a slow burn. All further chapters will be posted to AO3 (link at bottom), but the first chapter is posted in its entirety below the break.

Summary: Newly accepted as an official Avenger, you move into the infamous compound, anxious to be a part of a team for the first time. You quickly find acceptance among the group, but your loner habits are taking a bit longer to acclimate. Your first mission comes around, and you finally meet the infamous Bucky Barnes, immediately clicking and falling into a natural friendship. When ~feelings~ arise, you must figure out how to figure out if these new emotions need to be suppressed or let out in the open.

Warnings: none

Tags: friend to lover, pre IW/EG, reader x bucky

Rating: PG13 for language and suggestive content

When you look in the mirror, you don’t see “hero”.

It doesn’t matter that the suit Tony designed for you makes you look the part. No amount of lightweight bulletproof super fabric and Avengers emblems will change that you are still you underneath— hardened, scarred, and internally broken.

“It looks great.” You whirl around to see Natasha leaning against the door frame of your bedroom. She looks ready for bed with her hair tucked into a loose bun, a pair of flannel pajama pants and a gray tank top.

“Thanks,” you say shyly, glancing back at yourself in the mirror. For as wrong as it feels, it fits like a damn glove. He asked if you had a preference on design. You just said to keep it simple, and he really nailed it.

It looks like normal clothing. The pants are black, high waisted and fitted down your legs like skinny jeans but soft and stretchy and thicker than they seem. He explained it’s because they are meant to block bullets. A new material they got from Wakanda. The top is a dark gray v-neck and a similar material. It’s long sleeve and has the Avengers emblem on the breast and on the back of the neck in black.

Your favorite part is the jacket. It looks like black denim, feels like denim, and moves like denim. According to Tony it’s better. Adjusts to the weather to be cooling or heating. Tough and durable against sharp objects and bullets. Above all, it is practically the same outfit you have worn when you have gone out to do some ass kicking. Tony even let you keep your favorite combat boots.

“I want you to feel like you can be yourself here.” He said when he gave you a box containing this suit. The way he looked at you meant he read your file. They all have the same look when they learn the truth.

“Did you ever feel guilty being here?” You ask, turning to look at Natasha as you slide the jacket off and pull out your own bedtime clothes. She smiles softly, longing in her eyes.

“I still do sometimes. It’s hard moving past the things I’ve done. There will always be red in my ledger no matter how many times I kick bad guys in the face.”

You chuckle at the thought of Nat literally smashing some perp in the jaw. You’re sure she isn’t exaggerating either. “What helped?”

“The people. I let them in, and now they’re my family. I just keep reminding myself that they know about my past and still love me.”

“Easy as that?”

“Easy at that. Have a good night, [y/n].”

You say goodnight and close your bedroom door with her departure. Now alone you change out of the fancy suit and into an oversized t-shirt that hits halfway down your thighs and shorts just in case you run into someone in the hallway at 2am or there’s an attack in the middle of the night. Precautions you never had to deal with working alone.

You set an alarm for 7am for your morning workout and fall asleep almost immediately, the weight of another exhausting day pulling you into darkness.

The chains of the punching bag clatter and twist as you land multiple hard hits on the side. Sweat is dripping off your body as you land a final fatal blow and the punching bag strap gives away, falling to the ground with a loud thud that echos through the training room. You shake out your hands and kick it to the side with two others you have demolished this morning.

“Looks like the punching bag destroyer isn’t me for once.” Steve Rogers laughs, walking into the room with two other men that you recognize as San Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Sam smiles widely at you and then looks at your small pile of fatalities with wide eyes.

“Super soldier?”

“Sam—“

“Oh are we not allowed to ask?” He rolls his eyes at Steve but then looks at you a little concerned he crossed a line. You give him a reassuring smile.

“Not exactly a super solider by design, but I have some similarities. Strength, agility, enhanced senses, and faster healing would be the overlap.” Steve nods at your list, confirming your assumption.

“Anything else? Laser vision maybe? Man, I have been so disappointed in the lack of laser vision in this--”

“Sam,” Steve groans, and you let out a genuine laugh. You’re internally giddy at how well this conversation is going, even if it’s just a little banter between the naturally outgoing Falcon and Steve Rogers. You glance at Bucky who is standing by quietly, per usual. You know he’s paying attention because his eyes are going back and forth between you and Sam, but his expression is neutral. The resting stoicism of Bucky Barnes.

“Oh come on,” Sam whines. Steve gives him another look and this time he seems like he will cease.

“We’re not here to barrade [y/n]. We are here to deliver a mission.”

He holds out a file folder. It’s thick, and stamped with the SHIELD logo. Must be a few years old.

“How’s your Portuguese?”

“Fairly decent.” You reply in Portuguese, opening the folder to find a stack of case files with a black and white photograph paper clipped to the first page.

“Perfect. While we hate to just throw you into the field so quick, you’re the only other fluent Portuguese in house at the moment.”

“Other?”

“You will be joining Bucky in Brazil on this mission.”

You look up from the case to look at Bucky. Your eyes meet and the corner of his mouth turns up the smallest amount. A friendly smile. You guess it’s better than nothing.

Excitement courses through you. Your first mission! You didn’t expect to be so excited for something you’ve been doing for years, yet you can’t help but feel a little more confident after your talk with Natasha. You’re working towards a better future.

“When do we leave?”

“Saturday.” Steve says, indicating you have about two days to prepare. “Better start reading.” 

The three men then turn and leave you with a stack of classified files and three broken punching bags. 

November 18, 2004

Agent Log Transcript

“Shield agent Riley Gonzalez reporting in. It is November 18 in São Paulo, Brazil. Investigation of the numerous mystery attacks in the area has come up with no concrete evidence... locals have little insight, or do not seem affected by the disturbances. I have seen nothing down here that would indicate possible extraterrestrial activity. Next check in is November 24th unless new information is uncovered.” 

Transcript End. 

November 20th, 2004

Agent Log Transcript

“Shield Agent Riley Gonzalez, reporting in. Uhhh, so, I don’t know what to say. I, uh, I found something weird, don’t know if it connects, but--”

[yelling in background, incoherent voices]

“Shit!” 

Transcript End. 

You’re sitting in one of the large armchairs in the study, curled up in a blanket and sifting through the case files. You leave in the morning, and you just want to go over them once more to make sure you didn’t miss anything. 

When SHIELD was active, seven agents went missing in different parts of South America at different times. After SHIELD was disassembled, no more agents were sent down, but intelligence on so-called “extra-terrestrial attacks” continued to be gathered. After the attacks of 2012, the weird occurances suddenly didn’t seem so outlandish. Fury restarted the investigation and with the help of Tony’s advanced software, managed to find a pattern in the documented attacks. That is why Bucky and you are going to Brazil-- to try and witness and predict the next attack so they can figure out what they are and how to stop them. 

The overhead light flickers on in the study. You blink a few times, your eyes adjusting to the flood of brightness. You hadn’t noticed how dark it had become in there. 

Through your squinting you see Bucky stride into the room, his quiet confidence radiating off of him. “Reading in the dark?” he asks, a small smile appearing on his lips. You’re a little caught off guard to see him engaging you in conversation. The most you’ve ever spoken to him before this moment is when you were introduced, and that entire moment consisted of him him walking past the kitchen while Steve, Nat, Bruce, Sam, Tony, Wanda, Vision, and Rhodey were making their own acquaintances and Steve pointed to his fleeting figure saying “That’s Bucky.” and Tony adding “He doesn’t say much.” 

“It wasn’t dark when I started reading.” You push together the papers into a neat pile and tuck them back into the folder. Bucky sits down on the couch across from you, his eyebrows knit together despite his general friendly demeanor. “Something wrong?” 

“Nothing wrong, just thinking about this mission.” 

“Are you nervous?”

He scoffs, and you roll your eyes. 

“Are you one of those guys that chalks everything up to having seen worse?” 

He cocks his head, pressing his lips together into a curious expression. 

“I have lived through the second world war, being frozen, and an alien invasion or two. I’d say that’s seeing some shitty things and missions like these don’t really make me that nervous.” 

“You never know. Seven other agents were probably thinking the same thing, and they were never seen again.”

He picks at a thread on the sleeve of his green henley, glancing up at you to make eye contact every so often. 

“What, do you want me to be nervous?” 

“It would be comforting to not be the only one.” 

He chuckles softly. “[y/n], it’s gonna be fine. First mission jitters go away pretty quick.” 

"When do we take off?" you shift the subject, feeling a little embarrassed at your comment about him "seeing worse". The man was a brainwashed assassin, who do you think you are to make statements like that? Even your shitty past can't compare to the baggage he must carry around with him.

"7am. You a morning person?"

"Usually yes."

"Then you're in charge of waking me up if I oversleep. Steve is gettin' real tired of mothering me."

"He would never tire of that." Bucky grins at that, nostalgia a glint in his eye.

"True." he mutters, standing and giving you a polite nod. "I'll see you in the morning."

You tell him goodnight and starts to head to the door before stopping and turning around halfway. He reaches over and flicks on a lamp that is sitting on a side table near you and then heads to the door, flipping off the much too bright overhead light. The lamp is the perfect amount of dim light for you to see, but not hurting your eyes. You shoot an appreciative smile at his back as he shuts the door to the study behind him.

Your head is whirling. Casual conversation with Bucky beyond the little squad of him, Steve, and Sam, is not something that you have seen often. He's nice, you observe, and quite laid back. Maybe this mission won't be as awkward as you fear it to be.

The sun is not yet up when you rise. The sound of birds chirping outside eases you into consciousness before your alarm can go off. Flipping over you press the screen of your tablet to see you have another half an hour before you planned to be awake. You're wide awake now, though, so you sit up and pull your legs into a crossed position and begin your morning meditation a little early.

You've been meditating for years. It's the only way you have found that truly helps you stay relaxed and control your powers, which is a difficult feat on its own. Being here has taken a toll on you lately, so you've practically tucked away your powers completely. When you were on your own, you used them constantly, figuring to make the best of a bad situation. Now, living with so many others, it feels wrong, like you're constantly being watched.

There's a knock at the door, and your eyes snap open. You get up and open the door to find Steve Rogers standing there.

"Did I wake you?"

"No, I was up."

"Good. Can we talk?" He looks past you, indicating he must want you to invite him in. You step back, unblocking the doorway from him. He comes in and sits at an armchair you have in the corner of your room. You sit back on your bed cross-legged and watch as he twiddles his thumbs a little before finally looking at you.

"No one knows what you can do," he says, his voice careful. "I'm sure that was obvious after Sam's outburst the other day."

Did they inject Captain America with mind reading powers too?

"Why not?"

"[y/n], you're powerful. You may be one of the most powerful people we have ever had under this roof. I know and Tony knows, but since we did not know the true nature of your powers, we did not want to make assumptions and try to explain something we don't understand."

"So you're saying if I want people to know who I am, it's up to me to talk about that."

A part of you is relieved. The stories of you usually cause people to fear you, and that is not something you like. Another part of you is filled with anxiety that the bullet is still sitting in the chamber and you will be the one to bite it.

"Basically yes. I just wanted to talk to you about this since you are going on a mission and that might be a good topic to bring up... ya know, for partner trust."

"Understood, Cap."

"Uh, yeah. Good."

There's a moment of silence.

"I see what Bucky says about you being a mother now." you chuckle.

"He said what?" Steve raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smile on his lips. The strange tension in the room breaks and you are relieved.

"Just that you have to wake him up for school."

"It was his words not mine, then." Steve laughs and stands up. "Good luck, [y/n]. Watch out for my pal too."

"Definitely."

Steve leaves. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, a testament to the new conversation that has been added to your list of things to do on this mission. At least you have something to talk about on the plane now, you suppose.

Sometimes you wish you could fly. Or were just strong and skilled like Natasha. Or had something, anything other than the mess of powers that you have. It would be easier that way. Fewer people would leave out of fear or misunderstanding. Maybe you would have real friends.

Maybe that's why you accepted the Avenger's offer. You have been racking your brain endlessly for the past few weeks trying to figure out why you wanted to be here so bad. Being solo was so much simpler, so much fewer rules. Yet, when Tony Stark showed up at your crummy apartment door, you decided on the spot that you were in. For someone that tends to overthink everything, you sure made that decision fast.

There is a community of other people here that have rough backstories, misunderstood abilities, the weight of the world on their shoulders. A part of you just needed some sort of connection.

You place the last of your packed clothes into your duffel bag and zip it up. Wheels up in an hour and a half. You slip on a pair of black leggings and a green short sleeve roll sleeve top. Topping the outfit off with your usual combat boots and tying your hair up in a bun, you look in the mirror, satisfied, and throw the bag over your shoulder.

Bucky's room is nearly on the other side of the complex. He's next to Steve's room, unsurprisingly. You walk over and stand outside his door, your hand hovering in the air as you debate whether to knock or not.

Was he joking yesterday about needing to be woken up?

Fuck, you really should have confirmed that.

You drop your hand and press your ear to the door, listening for any sort of movement. Silence.

"Screw it," you mutter to yourself, and you knock.

It's quiet at first, but a few moments later you hear rustling and the sound of someone groaning.

The door opens suddenly and you jump back in surprise. There stands Bucky, hair disheveled and matted on the side, eyes droopy and sleep fresh on his breath. Shirtless... very shirtless and wearing only a pair of thin cotton pajama pants hanging low on his hips. Your eyes snap back up to his face, your face red that you totally just let your eyes wander down his entire body.

"'m up" he slurs, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Uh huh," you nod, noticing some parallel straight lines practically carved into his forehead... someone fell asleep with his metal arm on his head. You restrain yourself from making any jokes and step back again to put some distance between the two of you. "Wheels up in an hour."

further updates can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18701557/chapters/44353861

[thethespacecoyote]

"are you bleeding?" and/or "you should see the other guy"

sorry this took so long anon but i had fun with this! a bit of a fighting club sort of send up  with omegaverse

Jack had been hearing rumors about the alpha fighting ring deep within Helios for awhile now, but had largely dismissed them as that—just rumors.

But then he’d caught Rhys’ little musclebound friend running his mouth off about it one day when he’d snuck up on the pair’s conversation, and even with instinctive lip-lock Vaughn got whenever the intimidating alpha came around, he still caught enough verification to get his interest piqued. The beta hadn’t been very forthcoming with any more info, quickly excusing himself from Jack’s presence—thankfully, however, Rhys could be coaxed far more easily, and by the time they started heading home themselves, Jack had the location and time of the fighting ring squeezed out of his lover.  

Jack thought it might be a lark to tussle with the wannabe tough-guys a place like this would inevitably draw for a bit. Figured it’d be a bit of a show, for the CEO of Hyperion himself to roll up and take on a couple challengers. Rhys seemed a little reluctant, annoyed he’d let Jack wring the information out of him, but when the alpha teasingly offered to buy him ice cream afterwards for being such a good sport, it buttered him up enough to convince him to tag along.

The fighting ring sat hidden in a grimier part of Helios, far away from the remodeled splendor of the Hub, as well as the bulk of the apartment blocks and offices. The hallways he and Rhys followed grew dimmer and grimier the farther they walked, with only the occasional cleaning roomba attempting to tidy up the musty floors. They even found streaks of graffiti on the walls, both remnants from the Lost Legion occupation and fresher, more juvenile messages criss-crossed over the stained steel.

Rhys followed close behind him, occasionally grasping at Jack’s arm and swearing at the random, metallic noises echoing through the halls.

“Jack…this is creepy,” Rhys grumbled as he pressed himself close to the CEO’s side. “That ice cream better be amazing.”

“Hush, kiddo, I told you already I’m gonna make it up to you,” Jack reassured as the rounded a corner, both quickly detecting loud, rhythmic sounds from further down the dingy hallway. Rhys grumbled in soft discontent, but didn’t dig his heels in nor insist they turn around and head home, continuing to follow Jack towards the source of the noise.

It didn’t take too long to find. Two more corners and a creaky, half-broken automatic door later and he and Rhys were greeted by the sight of a large, already raucous looking crowd. Their nostrils both flared at once, quickly picking up on the heavy, musky odor of alphas that smelled soaked into everything. The crowd clustered in some vague semblance of a line outside what must have been an old office at one point, by jammed open glass doors and the busted ID placard sparking besides it. Jack felt Rhys press closer to his side, an affronted hiss building under his breath as he eyed the gathered alphas suspiciously.

“If any of them touch me, you’re going to have to kill them,” Rhys muttered as he followed along Jack, the pair walking right up to the double doors past the line. Jack’s presence, predictably, didn’t go unnoticed, as heads turned and eyes widened all along the group of alphas as they passed.

“Holy shit—“

“—it’s him—“

“—he’s really here!—“

Jack’s ego puffed bigger and bigger at the chorus of whispers as he strode right up to the two, beefy alphas in unbuttoned dress shirts that passed for security. They let him in without question, and as Jack passed on through the entrance to the ring he could hear them gossiping in low voices, like awestruck teenagers.

Shock and excitement rippled through the crowd as soon as Jack entered the huge, dingy room proper, all gathered quickly bursting into raucous, unhinged cheering when the CEO roared and threw his metaphorical hat into the ring, swaggering about as the organizers scrambled to find him an acceptable challenger.

Scars of old motivational posters on the walls and abandoned, half-broken cubicle walls—some of which had even been ripped off the carpet and shoved away from the crowd—confirmed Jack’s earlier hunch regarding the room’s origin. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember which department used to occupy this area of Helios, but the idea that an old button-down cubicle farm had been infested with such a dingy, violent spectacle got him a little giddy.

Soon enough Jack was ushered away from Rhys and into the ring, where he stripped himself of his more restricting garments, draping his jacket, vest, and undershirt on the battered metal barrier separating the arena from the audience.

Jack felt deep in his element. Roaring crowds, all eyes watching him, voices chanting his name in between calls for blood. His heart raced, leaping against his sternum and itching for the fight. He jumped about the perimeter of the ring, occasionally slapping high-fives or bumping knuckles with the spectators as he waited for his opponent to step into the fray.

Jack had left Rhys with his gun, not fully trusting the hoards of sweaty, hormone-flush alphas, even with his presence warding most of them away from messing with his mate. He could see Rhys awkwardly fidgeting the handle of the gun sticking out of the chest holster, his expression alternating between a disapproving frown and the undeniable excitement brimming just below the surface. After another pre-victory lap, Jack finally bounded over to where Rhys had come to lean up against the railing, fingers drumming up against the dented metal.

“How about a kiss for good luck, sugar?” Jack leaned up and over the barrier, cheeky grin splashed across his face. Rhys rolled his eyes, but smiled and planted a kiss right on his alpha’s lips anyway.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

A voice suddenly crackled over the transformed office’s old loudspeaker, static hissing on each consonant as it announced Jack’s presence—little redundant, the alpha thought, but whatever—as well as the name and title of his challenger. Jack’s eyebrows raised up in interest as one alpha parted off from the crowd clustering up against the barrier, vaulting up and over the boundary and landing with a resounding thump in the ring.

He looked like nothing special when compared to the rest of the masses, generically muscles in the arms and chest, with his hexagon-patterned jacket slung all casual over his shoulder, like he fancied himself some kind of old-fashioned street tough. The only thing distinct about him was the angled, freshly shaved cut of his facial hair that spiked up along his jawline that didn’t add much to the intimidation factor, in Jack’s opinion.

The CEO grinned wildly and he sized the other man up proper, hands on his hips as he swaggered forward. He sniffed the air, trying to get a decent read on the alpha, but the hundreds of odors clustered around the ring smothered his senses. The guy had to be a little bit scared though, right? Staring down Handsome Jack, of all people? He figured a little pants-pissing would be in order.

Maybe he needed to turn it up a notch.

“Well well well, this is it?” Jack boasted, more to the crowd than his challenger. “This is the son of a taint who decided to challenge Handsome Jack himself? Gotta say, I admire your balls, kiddo. It’ll be fun to rip ‘em off your carcass.” The crowd roared its approval as Jack cracked his knuckles, smile wide and brutal as he circled his opponent. To his slight surprise, the other alpha didn’t look all that phased as the corner of his mouth quirked up in a confident smirk.

“You going to keep that mask on the entire fight, old man?” His adversary growled, tossing the coat off his shoulder and onto the railing behind him. “Probably makes it a little hard to see properly…sure those eyes aren’t painted on?”

Old? Now that was something that got Jack’s blood simmering. Rhys could get away with something like that, poking fun at his age, since he knew the omega didn’t mean it. But this little prick? Oh, now he was going down.

“You think this is a handicap or something, buddy?” Jack laughed away his anger, pointing at the mask. “Trust me, keeping this on won’t screw with my eyesight at all—in any case, even the blind could see you’re a blowhard little bitch.”

Delighted howls vibrated through the crowd, and Jack could see his opponent’s cheeks redden slightly. He quickly hid part of his face—including that awful beard—behind a pair of clenched knuckles, lips tight and apparently unwilling to talk any more shit.

Fine by Jack, honestly. The point here, really, was to speak with their fists.

The flickering, green-white lights above cast a grimy sheen on the already sweating skin of both Jack and his foe. The air was warm, humid from the hundred panting, spit flecked mouths gathered around the ring, fanatically thirsty for blood. A primeval fervor thrummed through the air like a constant deep bass, shaking through Jack’s muscles and squeezing adrenaline through his veins. His nostrils flared, the scent of alpha hormones the strongest here in the ring, the heart of the violence —the cacophony of senses driving him mad and pumping him up to fight, to draw blood.

Jack rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows before he fell into a ready stance, fists clenched and guarded in front of his body. He shifted his weight steadily from foot to foot, rocking back and forth in place as he waited for the buzzer to sound.

Briefly, Jack caught where Rhys was standing  out of the corner of his eye. He turned to wink and sent a short, reassuring finger-gun straight at his mate’s engrossed pout, a split second before the raspy buzzer rang out across the arena.

His opponent’s sudden rush of speed nearly caught Jack off guard—fortunately, he quickly sidestepped the rushing alpha, giving him a wide berth as he skidded to a halt right in front of the metal barrier. Jack again danced out of reach when the alpha surged after him with two wide, swinging blows, the momentum leaving him wide open for Jack to charge in and sink a fist right into his opponent’s abdomen.

It didn’t wind him quite the way Jack wanted, but the punch distracted his opponent enough for Jack to catch a glancing blow against his cheek before the other alpha’s fist socked into Jack’s shoulder, driving the older alpha away.  

His arm trembled slightly from the blow, pain ringing down to his elbow. Jack shook out his hand, leaping back to put some space between the two of them. A moment’s recovery was all Jack needed, and as his adversary lunged after him he sprung ready to meet the oncoming assault.

Jack could tell already that the guy had been hoping to overwhelm him with pure brute strength straight off the bat, but the older man’s unexpected speed and agility had cut that strategy off at the head. Not that Jack had ever thought he could possibly lose this fight, but now he felt even more confident than he had beforehand. One-hundred percent assured he could wipe the floor with this guy as soon as he either tired him out or frustrated him into making a key mistake.

Jack laughed as he continued dodging and deflecting the guy’s punches, feet dancing on the floor of the ring. He nimbly hopped on the clean patches in between fresh and old blood alike. Jack felt alive, far more fleet and forceful than any other alpha his age could claim to be. And when he landed and clawing punch against his younger opponent, it only served to inflate his throbbing ego further. Blood surged through his veins like fire, and he couldn’t help but laugh triumphantly when his knuckles connected once against with his adversary’s chin with an audible crack of teeth.

“Give up yet, kiddo?” Jack gave the other alpha a scant moment to recover from the blow—though really, it was more so he could have a chance to properly taunt his foe. That was part the fun, anyway, make the guy really feel the shame of his oncoming loss.

Unfortunately, the guy remained annoyingly tacit, merely panting a couple of times and wiping blood away from his lips as he shot an angry glare in Jack’s direction. The CEO smiled, holding out his arms in a mocking shrug, trivializing his enemy’s intensity.

“What, don’t wanna pipe up? Come on! Are you an alpha, or just a kicked puppy?” The crowd’s laughter echoed triumphantly in his ears, though he thought he heard a couple errant voices calling for his ass to be kicked. He narrowed his eyes and glanced about, making a mental note to do a little purging of the audience after the fight. Just to remind those dissidents just exactly who he was, if they’d been dumb enough to forget.

But that would have to wait ’til after—his opponent was charging again, emboldened by a second wind as he knocked a flurry of punches about. Jack’s forearms rang with the blows as he tried to block them, one even catching the clip of his mask as he just barely dodged his head. Flecks of red flew through the air, his adversary’s knuckles sliced open by the edge of his clasp, but he didn’t seem to care as he continued pummeling Jack’s guard.

Distracted by his adversary’s sudden resurged strength as he was, Jack failed to notice the large puddle of fresh blood—presumably from one of tonight’s previous fights—until his sneakers were already sliding through it.

He managed to catch himself before he slipped and fell completely, but it gave his foe an opportunity to strike him off guard. Jack grunted as a hand lunged forward grabbed the front of his sweater, yanking the collar sharply against his neck as it pulled him forward, right into a cruising fist.

Bright colors burst in Jack’s vision as something in his face snapped. He suddenly felt weightless, as if his soul had been knocked right out of his body by the blow and try as he might, he couldn’t claw his way back in time before his sight went completely black, and he fainted dead away on the ring’s stained floor.

The sounds of the world around Jack rushed in long before his sight returned. Along with the pain—the pain was bad enough to nearly knock him out again, but then he caught a whiff of Rhys’ scent through the blood and sweat of the ring and his eyes flew open, suddenly concerned for his mate’s welfare.

“Rhys—ow—“ Jack swore at the sudden lancing pain in his head, his vision blurring all dizzy as he swayed. He fell back, only to be caught by a warm hand that then carefully laid him back against the floor.

“Shhh shh shh, easy.” His omega’s soothing voice, the one he used when Jack had had a long day or a nightmare, rolled over him, easing the throbbing pain just a tad. After a moment’s recovery, he tried opening his eyes again, keeping them to slits just so he could see Rhys’ face above his own.

Jack had already sensed his mate’s worry through his bond, so the concern in his eyes and pouting lips surprised him little. Yet with his fuzzy, fractured mind, it was hard to put two and two together as to why Rhys was so upset. Jack squinted in thought.

He…he remembered the fight, the fact that he was winning up until the point where he slipped and…

Pain, blood, then nothing. Jack hissed at the sting of the memory, as well as the throbbing in his head and face. He tried to relax in Rhy’s hold as he pried his eyes open wider, taking in his mate’s face further. As soon as the fuzziness started to dissipate towards the periphery of his vision, he noted something glistening and red near Rhys’ port.

“You’re…you’re bleeding.” Despite the fact that he was in no position to fight any longer, Jack felt a surge of rage at the cut on his omega’s temple. Rhys touched his fingers to the blood leaking from the cut, before snorting and waving his hand dismissively.

“That’s nothing. You should see the other guy.”

“Other guy?”

Jack raised his head as best as he could without risking further pain. From across the dingy ring, he could see two other alphas dragging Jack’s former opponent by the arms. With his blurry vision he couldn’t tell if the guy was still moving or not, but the copious amount of blood staining down his shirt told him all he really needed to know.

“Holy crap…”

Rhys smirked proudly at the awe in Jack’s voice.

“Did you think I was just going to let you forfeit because you got knocked out cold?” The omega’s cybernetic fingers, stained and tacky with drying blood, stroked Jack’s hair back off of his forehead. “You dragged me all the way here. There was no way you were losing. Not on my watch.”

A dumb smile spread across Jack’s lips as he looked up at his mate with a dreamy, glassy-eyed glance.

“Baby….if I didn’t have a concussion right now…this would make me super horny.”

Rhys answered him with the typical, resigned sigh Jack had long gotten used to, but the omega’s thrill and pride from his victory shone through nonetheless as he leaned down and brushed his lips against Jack’s uninjured cheek.

“Save it for after we get you home and patched up, handsome.”

[grimlegate]

Issues of Letting Go

Blood slowly dribbled between his fingers, gripping his side tightly as he tried to stem the flow, back pressed to the splintering boards behind him as he waved others to move ahead of him. He watched his two little sisters running back and forth, even Felicia and Jakob having joined the effort to heal everyone still had trouble keeping up with the steady flow of people into the healing tent. Kamui ground his teeth, grunting as he smothered a cough, not wanting to rip the gash in his side any further. He refused help until everyone else had been sought to, a sort of self-inflicted punishment on himself. Feeling as though if he had been a better tactician, that these injuries wouldn't be so plentiful.

He slipped further down the side of the building, bringing his hand away to stare at the blood that was slipping down his palms, filling the divots left by scars and the folds of his clenched fists. He watched the viscous liquid, eyes following each drop off his hand until a hand enclosed around his wrist, his gaze drawn up into angry grey eyes. He would have been excited to see his lover's face if it were any other situation, but the look on his face quickly chased away any feeling of happiness. Niles glared at the blood coating the man's hand before his eyes flitted to the slash in Kamui's side, letting out a growl. "Why haven't you gone to the healers?" He demanded, the Prince shaking his head.

"The others need treatment more than I do right now."

"Like hell! Your side is gaping open, and you think you're okay?!" The Trickster growled, reaching for the staff attached to his back. Kamui's eyes narrowed, and he snatched his hand away from him.

"Why haven't you been helping them in the tent? They need all the help they can get in there!"

"Because Elise saw you skulking off earlier and sent me after you! She knows you do this, and it's destructive! Now, come here and let me heal you, dammit."

"I already told you, no! There are other people who need to be attended to!" Kamui argued back, and Niles' remaining eye twitched. His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth before sneering at the Prince, an expression that left Kamui feeling skittish.

"Fine," He hissed out, strapping the staff back into place. "You want to be such a stubborn brat about it? Then bleed out on the grass, see if I care!" He growled, turning around on his heel to stalk off, finding his temper running too hot, and though the damage was already done with what he had said, he didn't want to make it worse.

His lover took care of that however.

Kamui had hot tears in his eyes, partially from the pain in his side and the pain of Niles' flippant dismissal, unwilling to see things how he saw it, and he clenched his fists at his sides, the blood that hadn't managed to dry yet pooling down his knuckles. Both were so head-strong, this was usually how arguments went, most of them being resolved silently when one or the other would return, usually the Prince sitting beside him, hands in his lap as he tried to figure out how to approach the situation. At least, until Niles wrapped an arm around him and they muttered out apologies where they were needed.

But this hurt worst of all, when he refused to understand the burden that the other took on by leading their patchwork army, leading them into battle and berating himself for every soldier, every one of his friends, who ended up hurt because of a mistake, a miscalculation, on his part. The comment of bleeding out dug the finally sharp knife further into his chest and he called to the man's back,

"Fine! I don't need you anyway!" He yelled, tears trickling down his face and cutting through the dust that clung to his cheeks. He watched Niles' back as he flinched, not managing to see the hurt that cut clean through the features for a split second, Kamui having turned to hobble off in the direction of his treehouse. Niles watched him go, the Prince's words echoing as his head as he scowled darkly, trying to squash down the panic fluttering in his chest. He took no joy in Kamui's tears as he did with others, finding that they just pierced through his chest like a carefully aimed arrow. He wanted to go after the other man, pull him into his arms and heal him and try and talk about it—but he was not a talking sort, and his pride held him like a beast on a chain.

So, instead of to his lover, he stalked away, shoulders hunched with tension, the others being able to read the signs of an irritated archer, and steered clear of his path, lest they bring down his wrath upon them.

Niles had lost count of how many arrows he had ruined. Most of them were buried into the group of targets he had hauled together, what wasn't sticking out from the straw men was splintered at the base of them, the man having split many an arrow in his ferocity. His shoulders had begun to ache from the effort, grunting as he pulled the bow once more, only stopping after slipping and dragging the bowstring along his arm. He cursed, knowing the bruises that those strings would leave before heaving a great sigh.

"Ah! Niles!" The man flinched as he heard his obnoxious counterparts voice, turning to watch the blond Sorcerer saunter over, lips quirked in that smile that made him want to punch the other's teeth out, especially in his foul mood. The man looked to the targets, seemingly not able to take a hint. "Slaying the demons of the mind, are we? What a ferocious look!" He cried, placing a hand on his hip as he stood, Niles taking to ripping the arrows that were still usable out of the dummies and placing them back into his quiver. He ignored the other as he began to pick up the splinters, hoping the other would take the hint and leave.

But, he's Odin. That was about as likely as Anankos dropping from the sky where they stood and falling before Kamui's judgement.

The thought of the man brought a terse frown to his lips, trying to focus on not poking himself with a splinter. Odin shrugged, walking over to one of the dummies and leaning against it.

"Ferocious, indeed! Perhaps you should man the frontline! Lord Xander and yourself would terrify our opponents as surely as if Death was riding in on his hellish steed!" He mused, turning to look at the archer. "Or mayhap we should send Lady Camilla—her visage is as intimidating as her Wyvern's! Especially after seeing our Lord Kamui in tears!" Odin mused, and Niles froze in his cleaning, his blood turning to ice as he slowly turned to the other, meeting the mirthful eyes.

"Odin…"

"Yes, oh, partner of mine?"

"She knows, doesn't she?"

"…Mayhap."

Niles cursed, gathering up the rest of the splintered wood before turning to the Sorcerer, pointing a finger at him as his face grew dark.

"I was never here."

"Never where?" Odin asked, and Niles let a small smile play at his lips before taking off to the forest surrounding the Castle, figuring that would be the best place to hide out until the eldest sister's wrath had subsided and wasn't seeing red anymore.

After all, Niles quite liked all his blood on the inside of his body. Along with his organs.

The night had long since crossed the sky, the sun kissing the golden horizon good night before passing the duty of watching the world to the moon, when Leo found him and convinced him that Camilla was no longer tearing the Castle apart in her rage to find the man who hurt her 'precious Kamui.' His Lord led the way back, and Niles was at least thankful for them quelling her sure to be murderous reaction to him, as well as not having to listen to his lord lecture him about what he did. Apparently, if only for now, Leo was willing to live and let live, knowing that this was their issue, and he didn't need to fight his older brother's battles for him.

When they parted at the entrance to the camp, Niles fell along the familiar path, stopping just short of his destination when he realized exactly where he was heading.

The Treehouse.

Niles looked up at the place he had slowly begun to call his home, where each night he would allow Kamui to wrap himself around him, despite how the closeness, the intimacy felt like it drug him backwards through a bushel of thorns. He wore his armor to bed, something that Kamui had fought him about but relented, understanding that years on the run left you doing strange things to preserve your life. And he lamented in it all, each morning watching the man awaken rested and well, brushing the lightest of kisses against his forehead in a silent greeting, a half-and-half chance of the other pulling away from the warmth, or sticking around to cuddle.

It drove him crazy, each hidden weapon on his person and his armor digging into him while Kamui clung, and he wondered if the other was doing it on purpose, but after so long of doing so, he could not imagine Kamui doing such a cruel thing. And he looked too peaceful to disturb, so he left him be.

He looked up to the open window, finding the candle light flinging its golden light across the ceiling before disappearing into black, and Niles flinched as Kamui came to the window, a similar reaction spreading across the Prince as he saw the man, eyes averting as he shut the panes with a little more force than was strictly necessary. Niles winced, grinding his teeth as he looked to the ground.

Right… I need a place to sleep.

He grumbled to himself, narrowing his eyes at the cobblestone path before turning towards the barracks, knowing it was either that or a tree somewhere, and he wasn't too fond of waking with bird shit stuck to some part of him.

He entered silently and quickly, picking a cot close to an exit for a quick escape and pulled off his bow and quiver, setting them aside, but within arm's reach. It felt unnatural, as he sank into the cot. He had become accustomed to the pliant squish of Kamui's bed, the amount of space the two had, and how warm it remained in the room, thanks to one particularly vigilant butler—another person who he would have to remain wary of if he didn't wish to lose anything precious to him.

He groaned internally as he thought of the fact he missed the Prince, despite the discomfort he experienced when they slept together. He turned onto his side, huffing sharply to decompress after the day. His sleep was fitful at best, waking up to try and find his missing ex-lover before sinking back into the cot, reminding himself of his current situation, and making him reflect on the fact that he truly did miss what he had.

He was staring up, nearly blinded by the sun that bounced off the bleached locks, blood speckled in the strands. Pain was wracking his body, and he looked down to see the blurred mess of blood and… Other things, split from hip to hip. His mind screamed for him to reach out to Kamui, his mind urging, knowing, that the man could save him somehow. But, all he did was stare, a blank face filled with nothing but porcelain skin, the crimson eyes blurred in a messy tangle as he lost consciousness. Then came the retreat, the man crying out in nothing more than a tiny whisper, trying to call the man back to him.

Don't just leave me here! Help me!

He pleaded, but nothing would escape his lips, but the man turned around, looking at Niles, a feral, sinister grin spreading over his features.

"I don't need you."

Kamui said, the lips barely moving in a whisper, but the words echoed in his mind, and he cried out as he was left alone once more, body tipping into a never-ending spiral down towards unconsciousness.

Niles gasped as he started awake, looking down at his stomach, pressing and prodding for the phantom wound and breathing out a deep sigh when he found none. Hot tears had begun to sting his eyes, and he rubbed them away, staring tiredly out the window. The moon was still high in the sky, and he pulled his cloak tight around him, flipping onto his other side.

He had abandoned him. He had felt the rising panic in his throat as the man was leaving, leaving like everything else had in his life, and the feeling of helplessness left him choking on his own breath. He remembered the grin, the sharp fangs peeking at the corners when the lips closed, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Sleep never came, and after nearly an hour of tossing in his cot, he drug himself up, forcing himself awake and out of the barracks, bow and quiver strapped to his back.

Some of the others were up and about patrolling, but most had been slumbering like he, and with the most recent of the nightmares that had plagued his sleep, he resolved to apologize to Kamui, his pride having been eaten away by his fears. He plodded to the Treehouse, knowing he had to do it now, lest he chicken out later in the day. He thought of how to approach the situation, how to word his apology, knowing he had to apologize for his cruel words towards the man he loved.

He ascended the ladder with the speed of a man climbing to his gallows, lingering far too long at the door, debating if he should come back later or not, but the decision was taken out of his hands as the door opened abruptly, leaving a dark-eyed and disheveled Kamui in front of him.

The Princeling looked up at him, and all his careful planning went right out the window, both staring for a long moment until Kamui broke the reverie, coughing softly. "Is… Is everything alright? I heard you come up but you never knocked." He asked, and Niles looked at him, pausing before nodding his head.

"Yeah, everything's okay, just… Can we… Can we talk?" He asked quietly, and Kamui looked conflicted for a moment, but he knew sleep was far gone now, having gotten little more sleep than the man in front of him. He nodded, stepping back from the door as he allowed the other in. Niles stood awkwardly, wanting to move to the bed, but he knew that such a luxury was probably not for him anymore. At least, not until Kamui sat on the bed and motioned the thief over.

Niles crossed the room, sitting a respectable distance away, staring at his lap for a long moment. He could feel Kamui's eyes on him, and he almost got up and left, finding this all to be too much for him, always having had an issue with apologies. But he knew this needed to be fixed, so he lifted his head, meeting the Prince's eyes.

"Kamui… I'm sorry for the awful things I said." He said bluntly, and Kamui stared at him for a long moment, face impassive before the façade broke, and tears began to bloom in his eyes.

"I-I-I thought you ha-ated m-me." He sobbed, and Niles sighed, eyes going soft as he moved his arm, Kamui racing to the spot that it opened at the man's side. "I-I'm so-orry for be-ing so st-ubborn." He hiccupped, and Niles let his fingers trace along the man's back.

"Shush, it's alright… I don't hate you." He murmured, splaying his fingers over the thin fabric he wore to bed. "What I said was overly cruel, and I overstepped my bounds, Milord." He told him, bringing his other hand to wipe away the stray tears. "Come on, you know I only like your tears when we're in bed proper." He said, hoping to lighten the mood with a joke, thankful that it worked, watching Kamui smother down the tears in favor of flushing.

"Y-You're awful…"

"But you picked me."

"I know." Kamui replied, letting a shaky smile cross his face. "I got a good lecture from the others about what I was doing… So, no more."

"Good," Niles said, tugging the man close, letting his head lightly drop against the other's. "If you kept it up I was going to see to you personally, then give you some real punishment." He teased, causing a small laugh to bubble up, a noise that caught the archers heart in his chest.

"Oh nooo~! Nothing but that!" He cried, and Niles smirked, reaching up and pinching his nose.

"You're such a brat, you know that?" He mocked, and Kamui giggled, the noise ending smothered by a yawn. The Prince took that moment to look at Niles, frowning as he saw the circles darker than usual under his eyes.

"Poor sleep?" He asked, and Niles nodded.

"I don't know how I've come to miss being tangled up with you, but it seems like it has come to pass." He bemoaned dramatically, even pressing a hand to his forehead, leaving Kamui to roll his eyes. He gripped Niles' sleeve, trying to drag him to bed, but paused.

"Niles? Why don't you take off your armor?" The thief frowned, about to repeat his previous spiel about it, before a pointed look silenced him. "You might sleep better without it. Please? Just one night? We're safer here than anywhere else." He promised, and Niles frowned, trying to stay strong against his lover's pleading gaze before sighing, standing and pulling all his little weapons out of wherever he could store them, surprising Kamui at the amount, pulling off his armor as well, placing it all beside the bed. He looked at the man, Kamui giggling as he looked at the stiff man, reaching for his hand and pulling him in to bed.

Before Niles could settle, Kamui snatched up his eyepatch, as he often did, pressing it onto the end table. The man tried to protest, but Kamui placed a soft hand to his face, leaning and kissing the scarred skin.

"I love you." He said bluntly, and the heavy blush across his face was not missed by the thief, Niles taking endless joy in the other's embarrassment, leaning forward and claiming the Prince's lips.

"And I you." He whispered back, allowing Kamui to shuffle into his chest, feeling the arm settle over his side, and found surprise when the hidden blades no longer dug into his sides. The man's warmth settled at his front, and the weight of the arm felt nice, Niles moving to throw an arm around Kamui as well, feeling their legs tangle together, and for the first time, he felt truly comfortable laying with the man he loved.

His eye drifted shut, and he breathed in sync with the man, finding sleep claimed him easily, gripping him in arms enfolding, not too unlike the lovers themselves.