#the morning falls nonetheless (fanfic)

[minecraftrelatedrandomness]

preview excerpt from the fic!

While the seagulls are nominally diurnal birds, they have accompanied their human companion for many months regardless of time of day and have adapted to his inconsistent sleep schedule. The flock chatters and squawks, making their pleasure known as they devour the contents of the containers. Of course, they know not to consume the entire stock of dumplings as it would anger the stall's owner, but this time, they can't help but indulge for just a little while.

The clicking of boots on the stone-brick path would normally not alert them, having been around humans so often, but this time, it just feels… ominous. More ominous than usual for a night on the Faction Isles, especially since it is between midnight and daybreak, when everyone would usually either be fast asleep or sailing on other islands battling monster infestations as though they were pest exterminators and not pirates. The gulls turn to listen in as the footsteps round the corner onto their stretch of the path, as they tend to do, and while they have never heard those voices before, they immediately know what they had to do:

[emkayewrites]

Another Behind The Scenes of Luke and Nicola rehearsing THAT sex scene taken from my Lukola fanfic. In my universe, this was just practice for them ;)

(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')

15th October 2022 – Buckinghamshire (UK)

Luke leaned over until he was on top, supporting his body weight with arms that enclosed her from either side.  She observed that he was not quite his usual alert self and his tousled hair and sleepy eyes evidenced this.  He was clearly sleep-deprived, a common issue afflicting most of the actors and crew at this stage of the production. 

Luke lowered himself so that his lips were right next to hers; the strong minty smell of toothpaste overpowered her senses.

He probably didn’t even get his morning coffee.  She thought to herself.

He delicately ran a hand across her forehead and over her hair.  It was a tender albeit unscripted moment.

“Can I follow that with a closed mouth kiss?” He asked, a small smile spreading across his face.

Another action that was not scripted.

“It feels right.” She smiled back.

He pressed his lips to hers and she felt her mouth tingle in response.  It was likely the most chaste kiss she had ever experienced but there was something about it that excited her nonetheless.  It was exactly how she imagined Penelope and Colin would be; shy but hungry, wanting more and more of one another but still somewhat hesitant.

As Luke pulled back, his face above her again, their eyes briefly met before he looked down as he manoeuvred himself above her into position.  The position.  She found herself instinctively placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Wait.” She breathed. “Don’t break eye contact.”

He nodded in response.  They both started to move together in the slow, rhythmic motions of coitus, their eyes never leaving the others.  She had been right about the eye contact.  There was something about it that added to the intensity of the moment.  She wondered where his mind was right now as they made these sensual movements together. 

The modesty cushion that was placed in the gap between their pelvic regions pressed into her, and she felt a light pressure down there. 

She felt the cushion shift and then she felt the distinct motions of the cushion not only pushing down on her but also rubbing against her.  She was pretty sure that was not supposed to happen.  She let out an audible gasp of surprise.  Despite it being off-script, Luke responded with a mischievous smile and quickened his pace above her.  She thought that he was clearly reading this as Penelope showing enthusiasm and passion.  The friction between her and the cushion increased and she was beginning to realise that it was not entirely soft, it in fact had pretty hard edges.  She found her heart racing at the sensations that were starting to happen between her legs and pressed a hand into his chest, as if pushing him away.

“Oh, oh!” She exclaimed breathlessly. “That’s touching, that’s touching!”

He was quick to respond, a look of concern crossing his face.

“Wait, what?” He pulled back, sitting up and appraising the neutral-toned, heart-shaped cushion that had been between them. 

“Nothing could be touching - the cushion remained in place.”  Lizzy stood up from the armchair she was seated in and walked towards to them.

They were on set in the room where this scene would be filmed in front of the crew and the cameras.  They were rehearsing with just Lizzy, trying to finalise their choreography using the real space where the action would occur.  Nicola and Luke were situated on a large check-patterned chaise longue that they had been told would likely be used in the actual filming.

“It might have looked in place, but it felt like it was going up and down the place, if you catch my drift.”  Nicola explained, using her elbows to support herself into an upright position.

Luke’s eyes widened as he took in her meaning. “You mean…?”

“Yeah.” She smirked.  She marvelled at how comfortable she was with admitting something like this.  The instinct to feel embarrassed or awkward about anything relating to their intimacy scenes had long left them both. 

“Wow, you’re welcome.” He joked.

She could not help but to cackle in laughter at the remark. 

“Oh, drat.” Lizzy was appraising the cushion with a frown. “I think this needs to be glued or strapped down to stop that happening.”

Nicola pictured herself, all but butt-naked, with the modesty cushion glued to her nether regions as she paraded herself through a set filled with, amongst others, the director, the cinematographer, and the grip.  She could tell from the amusement spreading across Luke’s face that the same image had crossed his mind.

“I knew I was going to look a little ridiculous, but I think we’ve reached the peak here.”

“Hmm, I think it needs to be fastened to both of you to prevent rubbing on either end really.” Lizzy had barely registered Nicola’s comment, instead she was turning the cushion this way and that, her mind already in problem-solving mode.

“I stand corrected.” Nicola quipped, the visual of her and Luke attached to one another’s nether regions through a cushion taking over her thoughts.

“Great, we’ll be a really sexy pair of conjoined twins.” Luke remarked, making Nicola snigger.

“Hmm, I think we’ll need to take this over to Wardrobe and see how we can attach this to the modesty garments.” Lizzy continued. “Why don’t we break for an hour and that will give me time to whip something up with this?”

This was not what Nicola had wanted to hear.  They had only started their rehearsal twenty minutes prior to this.  It was not setting a good precedent for the rest of the day.  As enticing as it was to be given regular breaks, those breaks also served to elongate what was already going to be a very long day.  She could sense Luke was feeling the same way from the face he pulled.

“Well, I guess we could rehearse other parts of the scene while we’re in here.” He suggested.

Lizzy’s expression quickly changed into one they rarely saw. 

“I really wouldn’t recommend that.” Lizzy stated sternly. “This is a safe space to work out boundaries and consent and my presence helps to ensure that from a professional but also legal standpoint.”

“I think we can handle it. I feel like we’ve got the consent and boundaries well laid out.” Nicola added in support of Luke.  “Honestly, it almost felt like you weren’t even in the room now.”

Lizzy blinked at her with the same unchanging look on her face.  “As much as I’m glad you’re so comfortable in my presence that I may as well be furniture in the room now – I am still in the room, and that part is important.”

Nicola was not sure she was entirely convinced but understood that this seemed a non-negotiable.

“Fair enough.  I won’t protest to work more when I could be taking breaks.” Nicola shrugged.

“Good.  I’ll see you guys at eleven o’clock.  Why don’t you grab a cuppa and go for a walk - it’s lovely out there!” The smile returned to Lizzy’s face; she seemed content that her point had been made.  She disappeared from the room, cushion tucked under her arm, leaving them to collect themselves.

“You’re thinking it, right?” Luke fixed Nicola with a knowing look.

“That it’s a stupid rule and we are going to take any opportunity to practice that we can?” Nicola asked.

“Yeah!” He enthused.

“Yeah, I was thinking it but I’m surprised Mr. Never Even Jaywalks is.” She teased. “Are you sure your conscious will allow it?”

“Why do it when there’s a zebra crossing or traffic light on every street? Why even take that risk?”  His voice was tinged with an annoyance that served to amuse her further.

“You’re right, there should be special prisons for those people.” Her tone was mocking, and he rolled his eyes at her.

“Alright, well we’ll start with breaking a set rule or two, and we’ll work our way up to the ol’ jaywalk.” Nicola reassured him. 

“Rehearsing extra hours is not really a rule break.” He replied dismissively, almost as if to reassure himself.

“This is going to break your brain, isn’t it?” She snickered. 

“I’m not gonna be given a hard time for following rules, thanks.” He intonated, raising his hands in the air in a back off gesture. “But some rules are made to be broken.”

As soon as the words left his lip, she could tell he regretted them.

“Did ya just hear your voice out loud and realise how lame you sounded?” She asked.

“I really can’t pull that statement off, can I?” He sighed. 

She laughed and wrapped an arm around his neck.  “Well, at least you’re self-aware about it.”

He pulled an arm around her waist in return.  These were actions they hardly thought about.  There was an instinct that kicked in that made them reach for each other, physically or emotionally. It was something that had developed gradually and was now a feature of their relationship. 

“We’ll have to rehearse those scenes in one of our trailers when Lizzy’s not around then.” He suggested. "Could head there now?”

"I've never known anyone so keen to break the rules!" 

"It's not a rule if it's stupid." Luke continued to insist as they left the room, arm in arm.

She burst into laughter at his words.  She had already been having fun but she sensed things were only going to get more entertaining.

[woooshhsworld]

It's quite clear to Andrew neither one of you will ever be truly okay without the other.

Of course, it's always been an afterthought; something left unsaid on both ends till those odd hours of the morning. He still remembers it, sneaking into your bed, or you finding your way into his-- holding onto your body as if huddling for warmth, and murmured words spoken before eventually falling asleep.

The years draw on like days, and eventually, you two wander further past any boundaries and lines crossed between siblings. With you though, he thinks it's the easier than breathing.

Still in the shared bedroom, the place you and him started off in; twin beds on either side of the small-ish room, he finds solstice in your arms. He keeps himself buried inside your warm, slick walls, letting his mind reel at how the sensation makes his cock ache. Yet, it always manages to satisfy the constant desire he feels in your presence.

Promising not to move, he believes you, resting his hands onto the skin of your hips to ground himself. Still being true to your word, small sounds of pleasure leave him and sense of contentment enters his now-empty mind. Unable to resist, he tightens the hold he has onto your body, relishing in any closeness and intimacy he's able to grasp on.

The slumber itself is otherworldly, something dreamless from his exhausted state, but so warm and comforting; it's difficult to focus on anything but that. The man struggles with nightmares, being vulnerable and facing memories he'd rather forget-- tonight though, he avoids its grasp and instead clings onto whatever you'll give.

GENRE: smut? cookwarming. I'm not sure what else to put.

NOTE: this is my first ever fanfic I posted on the internet and it's for some sister fucker. NONETHELESS, you're his sibling in this <3

OTHER NOTE: I wanted to capture a more domestic setting between Andrew and reader because even though their relationship is taboo and unhealthy with codependency, they still have a genuine care towards one another.

FINAL NOTE: I was thinking about writing more stuff in this light, like small snippets like this or full on fics. I'm not sure tho. ANYWAYS, Enjoy!!

[taesanluv3r]

when your eyes meet mine

lee riwoo x reader

requested by this anon 💭 idol!riwoo x fan!reader <3 this is the most delulu fanfic ever LMAO lowercase intended, pls excuse any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors. enjoyy :3

wc: 1,970

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ring ring ring!

yn ln groans, an arm reaching out from under her covers to grab her phone that sat over on her bedside table. she winces when she's greeted by the bright light, moving her fingers to swipe at the screen, lowering the brightness and shutting off her morning alarm in record speed.

it's 7 am.

on any regular day, the girl wouldn't even dream of getting up this early- in fact, to her, anyone who gets up before 9 after completing highschool must be a total loser! or...maybe...someone who's got their life together...but that's besides the point. the point is that today was very different from any other day. today was the day! the day yn ln was going to meet the six silly boys she dreamed of every night as she went to bed and thought of every second she stood awake. maybe she loved them so much, or maybe it was because she had taken it upon herself to decorate the walls of her room with the large posters of them she had gotten from the one too many albums she spent all her paychecks on. nonetheless, at least to her, this was a big day- a huge day, even. i mean it's finally happening, a smile on her sleepy face as she's met with the countdown notification.

'yn x boynextdoor! D-DAY!'

it all started about two weeks ago. the girl was going through what had to be the worst few days of her whole entire life. she was laid off at work for two days straight, her salad wasn't crunchy at lunch, she totally forgot to hang her laundry out to dry, and on top of that she got a coffee stain on her brand new white shirt. it was bad, terrible even! all she could do was give up for a moment, calling in sick at work and laying in bed all day just re-watching 'what?door!' for the hundredth time, munching on a tub of neapolitan ice cream and giggling over whatever dad joke her bias, riwoo, said. things were starting to feel alright again. the same way it always did when she was watching those six boys on the screen laugh and yell at each other over silly games. oh how she'd give anything to meet them...

just as the thought crossed her mind, a gift from whoever watched her from above fell into the palm of her hands- well, not literally, but you get what i mean. yn furrowed her eyebrows as a text from her best-friend in the whole world appeared on her phone.

bestie<3

YYNNNNNN!!! big news!!!!!!! yk how i won that ticket for the bnd fansign in two weeks?

the girl rolls her eyes, of course she knew, that's all her friend could boast about for the past few weeks! you see, this fellow onedoor that was texting her, she's one of those fans that seemed to always have their way with luck and winning fan-signs.

mhm, i'm aware...what abt it tho?

yn awaits a response, moving her finger over to the trackpad on her laptop to pause the video that was playing in the background.

bestie<3

well...what if i told u i hv to be somewhere tht day n i need someone (you) to fill in my spot at the fansign? hehe :D

and that's it. that's exactly the sequence of events that lead the chronic fangirl to this moment right now. at seven o' clock in the morning, getting up to prepare herself for the six boys that await her later that day.

"oh fuck...what do i even wear?!"

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as it turns out, time moves a lot faster when you're anxious and excited. in record time, yn ln had found herself in a space full of fans just like her. the girl's heart beat out of her chest, body shaken and tears threatening to fall out of her eyes as she stood in the crowd. after contemplating her outfit choices for hours that morning, the girl decided to wear a nice pair of baggy cargo-pants and the baby blue jersey from the boy group's collaboration with the brand sandsound. she had her hair and make-up the way it normally was, the way she knew would look good. her hands wrap softly around her diy picket, a pretty heart-shaped one with none other that lee riwoo's face on the center of it- his face once again seen hanging on a pretty photocard holder on the strap of her bag. she was nervous, a sort of adrenaline rush coursing through her body when the people around her began to cheer, the silhouette of the six boys she loved so much emerging to the front of them.

"who's there? the boynextdoor! hello, we are boynextdoor"

the boys began their introductions, warming up to the crowd for about half an hour before they were supposed to start the fan-signing event. yn couldn't believe her eyes, she can't believe these people were real! she didn't want to be biased, but she truly could not focus on anyone else anymore, her gaze lingering over to the one boy who had her heart wrapped around his finger- he didn't even know it. lee riwoo looked even more handsome in real life, his aura screaming charisma as he spoke sweetly into his microphone. his hair a shade of brown that was almost ginger, a distinct mole below his eye that moved up a bit whenever he smiled, his smile that allowed for his little fangs to peak through. it sent the girl's heart flying! even more so, when his eyes turned a bit to meet with her own. maybe she was hallucinating in the moment, he could be staring at anyone! but she swore that for a second his gaze stuck onto her, a warm and fuzzy feeling engulfing the whole of her shaken body and a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"okay, everyone joining the fan-signing event! please make a line over here in accordance to your given queue number. thank you" the staff called out through a microphone, waving his arm around to direct everyone over to one side of the venue. the members of the boy-group began to take their seats over on the long black table, another set of staff members preparing the albums, markers and post-it notes for the event.

once again, yn couldn't breathe. it felt as though all her dreams were finally becoming a reality. she didn't know what to do now, a sudden panic taking control of her brain as she stood in her spot in the line. 'what do i even say to them...?' - 'oh god i didn't think this far' - 'what if my mind completely goes blank?' - 'oh riwoo looks so good today' - 'what if throw up? or...or what if i...'

"NEXT!" the staff called out, gently tapping the girl on her back and signaling for her to move forward for her turn. 'oh i'm so fucked...'

honestly, it didn't go as badly as she thought it would. first on the table was jaehyun. he was so sweet, reassuring her that it was okay to be nervous and thanking her for her kind words. next was leehan who shot her his signature smile, giggling sheepishly at the compliments and praises the girl nervously told him. sungho and woonhak followed, listening intently to her every word as she slowly vocalized them. only two more members left! great! it wasn't so bad after all! or at least it wasn't so bad until she was face-to-face with the love of her whole life himself.

lee sanghyeok.

"hi....um...yn! yn, right?" the pretty boy said, searching for her name on the sticky note that was stuck onto the album. "uh- yeah...um...hi!...uh oh my god- sorry, i'm so..." she couldn't seem to speak, her whole mind going blank and malfunctioning as the boy in front of her smiled softly. "nervous?" he asked, a slight giggle escaping his lips as he did so. yn nods, "i'm sorry, you're just so handsome! and really cool and talented and i really love your dancing and your voice and even your dad jokes- even when they're not that funny sometimes and i really like your hair and uh- sorry, sorry i should stop now" the girl yapped on and on, suddenly going from not being able to speak to only speaking way too much. unbeknownst to her however, riwoo didn't find it annoying at all- in fact, it sparked some sort of a flame in the pit of his stomach. maybe it was the way she smiled at him, maybe it was the way she complimented him, maybe it was the way her hands shook as she spoke to him the way he noticed it didn't really for the other members. whatever it was, something about her peaked his interest.

"can...i...hold...your...hand...?" her question shakes him out of his thoughts. it appears the idol boy had zoned out, completely distracted by this girl in front of him. "huh? oh! uh...i-" he stutters, a sudden shyness taking over his complexion. the girl mentally slaps herself, "oh, i'm sorry...i you don't have to if you don't want to i mean it's obviously your choice i'm just- oh!" she stops talking when his hands slip over to grab her own, the feeling is warm, an electrifying sensation she's never felt before. and neither has he, the world around them going in slow-motion for a second as they paused into the moment. no words were exchanged, but the way their eyes pierced into one another's was enough to make sense of the situation.

"move along, please" the staff that stood behind the boys interrupted the moment, tilting his head to side as if to tell yn to hurry up. riwoo's eyes soften and he looks at her with some sort of look that read of disappointment, she furrows her eyebrows when he let's go of her hand to quickly jot something down on the page of the album that laid opened in front of him. "it was nice to meet you, yn" the boy said, a smile on his face. she returned the gesture, "nice to meet you too, riwoo- i love you!" she said finally, in a rush as the staff guided her over to the final member.

"hi!" she says, grinning from ear to ear as she sat down in front of taesan. they share sweet conversation, the boy thanking her for all her compliments. he looks down at the opened page for a moment and laughs, though she doesn't really know why, shooting him a perplexed expression. he shakes his head, looking up at her after signing her album. "looks like riwoo hyung has a crush on you or something..." the girl's eyes go wide, "what?!" is all she manages to muster out before the staff move to rush her out of the line. the last sight she saw was a cheeky smirk from han taesan and a lingering stare from the brown-haired riwoo beside him who waved.

the statement ran through her head for the next hour as she waits to retrieve the signed album from the pick-up booth. 'what could that menace possibly mean?' - 'he could be lying...right?' - 'he's probably just teasing me'

all her queries however were to be answered as she got the signed album in her hands, hastily flipping through the pages to find the message she didn't even know she was looking for. and there it was, right by a picture of his face in the photo-book, signed by the boy of her dreams himself...

'yn, it was nice to meet you :)...let's meet again some time? text me? (xxx-xxx-xxxx) love, riwoo'

huh...maybe he does have a crush on her or something...

the end.

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ahhh idk how i feel abt this fic 😭😭 but i hope u guys enjoyed it nonetheless :3 tysm again to the anon tht sent this request!! feel free to send some more over in my asks<3 reblogs n feedback r greatly appreciated, tysm for reading! love, kona.

[al1en-invasi0n]

Hello, Hello!

This is the first fanfic I have ever ever written!! Isn't that cool?

Just so you know, this is a fanfic about tickling, so if you dislike that then please don't interact!

Lers: Grunkle Stan, Mabel

Lee: Dipper

"Give it back!!"

That was the first thing Grunkle Stan heard that morning. Judging by the screechy girlish nature of the voice...it was probably Dipper. it was just a little too girly to be Mabel. It was too early for this. Only thirty minutes past noon, we're they trying to take away his beauty sleep or something? It was probably some pointless argument that could be settled with less than a paragraph anyway...may as well check on them. He knew how big stupid fights could get between siblings.

"Oh c'mon..."

He groaned, sitting up and cracking his back before dragging himself downstairs. There he saw the sight of the problem: the journal. Mabel was holding it above her head, running around while trying her darn hardest to convince him into taking a break.

"Oh come on Dipper! Just for one day! Take a break, you'll be fine!"

"I can't take a break! We don't know everything that's out there! Give it back!"

Right before he tried to snatch it, she pulled away, running up to Grunkle Stan. Her and Dipper ran circles around him, who was barely processing what was happening in his sleepy un-caffeinated state, groaned and grabbed Dipper by the back of his jacket.

"Look kiddo, shooting star here is right. You keep your nose stuffed in that book 24/7, you'll give yourself bad eye sight like me."

Dipper fought against his grip, trying to tug himself away while shooting Mabel a half hearted glare.

"But I still have things to be doing! Grunkle Stan you don't get it! I need the journal back!"

Stan groaned and thought for a moment or two. How was he supposed to work this out between the two? Especially when he wasn't entirely awake, nonetheless. He knew a few tactics that tired Dipper out, but judging by the chaos he was woken up to, no, he had to go big or go home.

"Mabel, hide the journal somewhere and meet me in the living room with your brother."

"What?! But Grunkle Stan!-"

"No buts! You wake me up over something stupid? You'll learn not to."

Without letting Dipper really process those words, Mabel already running off to hide the book, Stan brought Dipper to the living room by the arm. He sat down and gripped both his shoulders, making eye contact and speaking in a serious yet concerned and somewhat soft tone.

"Look kid, you're too young to be worried about this whole...cryptid thing. I understand you have a nack for it, but take a break why don't ya?"

Dipper avoided eye contact for a few moments before nodding, giving a soft sigh and looking up at him again. He felt bad for causing his Grunkle stress, but he just had to find out what was going on with Gravity Falls.

"I'm almost a teenager though, and I know I can handle it! Please, I have so many things that I'm close to solving, I can't just...take a break now!"

"He can't even take a shower!"

Mabel chimed in, skipping from the doorway over to the two and looking at Grunkle Stan. He decided that enough was enough, it was time to make him relax, even if it was by forcing him into exhaustion.

He suddenly took two of Dippers wrists in one hand, taking off his hat since he'd probably squirm so much it fell off anyway. He then gave him a serious look, though it quickly turned into more of a mischievous smirk than anything as he raised his other hand, wiggling his fingers at him.

"You've been so busy with that book that I've practically forgotten what your laugh sounds like...Mabel sweetie? Get his ribs."

"WHAT-?!"

he went bright red in the face and nervously squeaked, leaning away from the hand that Stan was slowly moving towards his belly. He bit his lip, but it failed to cover the nervous yet giddy smile slowly forming.

"Oooh, gladly!"

His sister joining in too? That just wasn't fair! He'd probably be dead by the end of this. He leaned forward and away from her hands, only to yelp as he bumped his stomach against Stan's hand. He gave a soft burst of giggles and jerked back, only to find his ribs being spidered across by Mabel's fingers.

"MAahahahabehel!!"

He protested, trying to move away from her only to find his Grunkle's hand was still there waiting for him to do just that. He felt like a fly in a spiders web, and the idea of getting that journal back today wasn't looking good either...

Eventually both hands had closed in on him. One was scribbling all over his belly and occasionally jumping to his side to catch him off guard, while two more hands were running up and down his ribs and digging into the spaces in between. He let out multiple loud and embarrassingly girly shrieks, laughing his head off and trying to tug both arms down to no avail.

"WAHAahahahait- Gruhuhunkle Stahahan!! Thihis isn't fahahair!"

"Yeah well life ain't fair kiddo. You're taking a nap."

"I'm nohot evehen tihihirehed!!"

"You will be after this!"

Mabel suddenly shot back, moving her hands to his back and wiggling her fingers against his spine. One went up and down it rapidly while the other focused on where it met the neck, making him scrunch his shoulders up and snort a few times from laughing so hard.

"NONONOHONOnOHOHhohohooo!!- not theheRE!! Snrk- MAHABAHAL!!"

He squealed out, kicking his legs since his arms were still trapped, a wide smile stuck across his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel his face burning bright red from the embarrassment of the situation, but it actually did feel kind of nice to relax like this for once...

He quickly regretted ever starting to enjoy it as he felt his shirt get lifted up, followed by Grunkle Stan picking him up and snickering down at him. He took a deep inhale before pressing his lips to his stomach, blowing a long raspberry against the skin. He flinched slightly at the shriek that Dipper produced, but managed to tune it out after a few seconds.

"GHAAAAHhhahaha!!- hic- NAHAHAH!! GRUAHAHANKAHAL-!!"

He shrieked out, pushing at his shoulders and head now that his arms were free while trying to squirm out of his lap. The bit of facial hair mixed with the raspberrys were driving him up the wall within seconds, and it didn't help that Mabel decided to start scratching at the hollows behind his knees.

He let out loud, high pitched cackles, repeatedly snorting and hiccuping whenever he attempted to take a break. Tiny tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his face scrunched up with how hard he was laughing. He started to get really wheezy, his brain shutting off for the most part due to being tickled senseless.

He kept laughing for maybe another minute or so, and despite really wanting to work on that journal yet again, he had his limits. He patted the back of Stans head, barely managing to speak through his own laughter.

"I'LL REHEST!! Ihihi'll rehehehehest pleEAHAHAA-!!!"

Him, who was already out of breath himself from blowing so many raspberries back to back, pulled his head away and let Dipper relax. Mabel gave a victorious grin and ruffled her twins hair, leaning on the seat while looking down at him.

"I knew you would! Come on, let's go to bed. I'll help you make your bed, it's a mess."

He only mumbled in response, still decently giggly from the tickle attack he was just forced through. After regaining his bearings, he managed to stand up, hugging himself and smiling at the two.

"Yeah yeah, okay..."

He considered saying something, but decided against it. They didn't need to know he actually had enjoyed that...as if they couldn't tell already though. He gently hugged Stan for a moment, yawning as he spoke due to being worn out.

"Good night, Grunkle Stan!"

"Night kiddo."

He fondly smiled back at him, ruffling his hair before breaking off the hug. He watched Mabel and Dipper leave to go upstairs, sighing before shutting his eyes. He'd probably just crash on the couch since he was still tired, but at least Dipper was gonna rest too. That put him at ease.

Mabel finished fixing his bed up for him, gently pulling a blanket back so he could lie down under it. He curled up under the blanket and gave a soft, content sigh, hugging a plushie Mabel let him borrow for the night. He shut his eyes, mumbling a soft "thank you" to Mabel, then slowly starting to doze off.

He smiled as he felt her ruffle his hair, the feeling helping his brain shut off into a peaceful sleep. He had the rest of summer to work, which still wasn't exactly a whole lot of time, but...maybe just...one day would be fine to rest. Not like he could or wanted to get out of bed now anyway.

He'd get back at Grunkle Stan and Mabel for this though.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hey, can you write smut and fluff for maggie Greene x reader?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

― pairing: maggie greene x fem!plus size reader

― era: season 10/11

― Summary: you'd never thought you'd be here having giggly morning sex with your girlfriend maggie.

― warnings: kissing, dry humping, oral (r. receiving).

― wc: 1171

⋆ a/n: i know this is so cliche and typical and almost all my maggie fanfics are like this but whatever this is my blog and i'm gay and it's pride month so i can do what i want. i know this might be a little controversial to my glenn lovers, but i swear i didn't forget about him.

masterlist | AO3

You hadn’t known Maggie until she had joined to help Georgie build up the community in which you were a part of. All you knew was that she was a single mom that had lost her husband. 

She was gorgeous to say the least, but you had forced yourself to push your feelings for the older woman down, assisting her with shy smiles and kind words, even sometimes looking after Hershel Jr., when she and Georgie would go out and search for other settlements.

Never would you have ever imagined that you and her would get together.

She had approached you after months of unknowingly dancing around each other, expressing her interest for you, but also how conflicted she felt about you as well. She knew that she loved you, but she was still mourning over Glenn, but you were quick to reassure her that you would never try to replace him in any way, shape, or form. She was willing to try for you, but also because she knew Glenn would want her to be happy, and she knew that if he was still alive, that he would like you too.

Now, you were cuddled up together, your face buried in Maggie’s neck as she rested. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, lifting your hand that was resting on her chest to shield your eyes from the sun peeking through the blinds. She had been able to rest a lot lately, with the community well ready for the upcoming winter, there was not much she had left to do. You were grateful for the time you were able to spend with her, and you knew Hershel was too; it was always a nice surprise when the both of you would pick him up from school and have dinner together instead of it just being you and him.

Pressing light kisses to her neck, you nibbled at her jaw before sitting up to give her kisses all over her face. You could see her eyebrows and nose slightly scrunch up in her sleep, which made you grin even wider.

“Mags.” You whispered against her cheek. “Wake up.” You coaxed gently. She hummed, squeezing her eyes a little harder this time before opening them.

“Hi.” She said quietly with a smile. “Hi.” You said back. This time, you leaned up to capture her lips in yours and she cringed. “What about my mornin’ breath?” She drawled. “You know I don’t care about that.” You scoffed, rolling over so that you could gently sit yourself on her lap. She sat up, settling her hands on your hips whilst yours cupped her face; you deepened the kiss, getting lost in how soft she felt, how her body radiated such an addicting warmth that left you squirming her lap.

You grinded down on her and softly moaned into her mouth.

“You plan this?” She teased when she pulled away from you, her chest heaving slightly in an attempt to catch her breath. “No…” You replied with a dazed grin, “You’re just so damn hot.” She laughed at your confession but nonetheless joined your lips back together, indulging in your wishes of intimacy. 

She tightened her grip on your hips, forcefully dragging your hips to rub against hers. Your shaky hands reached up to take her loose hair out of her bun, her brunette locks falling around her shoulders. Your fingers buried themselves in her roots, a tiny whine slipping out as your clothed clit brushed against her leg that was hidden under the blanket.

Her dainty appendages hooked themselves under the thin straps of your tank top, dragging them down your arms so that your breasts were exposed. Your head fell back as she played with your nipples, her lips finding home on the column of your throat, nibbling pink marks on your skin that’ll fade later.

“Maggie.” You moaned out her name, desperation dripping from your words. “I need… I need more.” Your orgasm was tickling your spine, boiling in your gut, but the friction was barely enough to send you over the edge. “Tell me,” She murmured, “Tell me what you need.” Your eyelids fluttered shut in an attempt to gather your thoughts. “Your mouth… please.” You concluded breathlessly.

She helped you work your undershirt all the way off of your body before you guys changed positions; instead of her being on against the pillows it was you, and she was sitting on her knees, your lips still locked in a heated embrace. She took your pants and underwear off, tips of her fingers tracing your damp slit. 

“Maggie..” You whined in protest of her edging.

‘“Needy.” She chuckled deviously, taking pity on you and working her kisses down your neck, chest, breasts, and stomach before finally settling on her knees, her back arched and ass raised in the air, hooking her arms around your thighs in order to keep herself balanced.

She placed her mouth on you, licking a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, circling her tongue around the small bundle of nerves. Your thighs threatened to close around her but she kept them open, spreading you out so she could flatten her tongue to reach the deepest parts of you. You reached out a shaky hand to push her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears so you could watch her. You settled your fingers into her roots and held her close to your cunt.

Her tongue dipped inside of you, the devilish muscle drank you in, burying itself deep inside of you in search of that spongy spot that made you see stars. She hadn’t stopped her mintrations when she placed your legs on her shoulders so she could use her fingers as well, sticking her middle finger in so she could suckle on your sensitive bud. 

“Mags!” You gasped, your back arching and hips grinding against her face. She allowed you to use her as she added another finger, curving them to your pleasure spot. You rolled both of your lips in between your teeth to hide your noises, squeezing your eyes shut, your vaginal walls spasmed around her digits.

“Yer doin’ so good, pretty girl.” She heaved out as she finally separated from your sex. “‘M gonna make you cum on my tongue, baby.” She murmured and reattached her lips to you.

“Please, please make me cum.” 

And make you cum she did, with adding a third and final finger, with each drag of her finger tips against your spongy padding you grew closer and closer to your end until that coil in your stomach snapped as you came on her face. She worked you through it until you whimpered in oversensitivity.

“Jesus.” You laughed breathlessly with a smile. She grinned back up at you, joining your lips together so she could lick in your mouth and make you taste yourself on her. 

“Ya always taste good.” She teased. You gasped in embarrassment, gently slapping her on her chest. 

“Shut up!” 

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon

[typewriting101]

snowy season.

pairings: levi ackerman x y/n

warnings: mention of disownment

word count: 20k (maybe more haha)

genre: fanfic romance

⟶ summary: what happens when everyone leaves for the holiday season, but you have nobody… but neither does captain levi?

an: hey everyone! i ended up with covid so i had time to make this little levi piece. he’s my safe place. i want nothing more in this world but him :,) so enjoy a snowy day with him !! ⛄️

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the snowy season was always your favorite. there was something about the cold, bundling up under layers, wind hitting your face as you walk with a group of friends. it was almost a life reset,

until it wasn’t.

then you lost your friends, your family, all due to their ideals and how they hated yours. why couldn’t they love you because you joined the scouts? it was your choice. but to all of them you were nothing but wasted tax dollars to a useless cause.

but that’s not how you saw it.

you left so others could have that walk with their friends and so little kids could still build a snowman. so people could live.

but now it’s snowy season, and here you are,

alone.

it was early morning, the snow falling gracefully. you finally decided to get out of bed in your scout dorm and look out the window. in your heart you still appreciated everything, but there’s more weight on your heart when you let a soft smile at the elegant scene out your window. you decided maybe you should go for a morning walk like you used to do with your best friend armin. but he was in shiganshina for the holidays.

along with the rest of the 104th squad.

the only people who stayed on base besides the high staff like Captians and the Commander were the few stragglers who had no family or didn’t want to leave for the weekend.

still in your room, you pulled on your entire scout uniform, boots and hooded cape. you were off duty, but this life is what you knew and you’d continue today like any other day.

you stepped into the hallway of the castle, pausing quickly as the old floors creaked. the large clock rang quietly signaling it was four in the morning. you let out a sigh, knowing it was officially the day before your holiday.

you quietly went down the steps and made your way outside. it was very cold, and you felt your nose go pink very quickly. you decided nonetheless to walk the grounds in a large circle.

as you walked you felt a bit lighter, but nowhere close to where you should be. as you made your way in a full circle you stopped in your tracks because someone was at the door.

captain levi stood, also in full gear, his hood up causing his bangs to lightly feather his eyes. he simply stared at you, your cheeks as red as your nose, your fingertips without gloves.

he approached you without a word and you weren’t sure what to say either. he whipped out his black gloves from his pocket and gently took your hand, to put them on for you.

“i thought you would’ve left.” he said as he rolled the gloves on your cold fingers.

“oh, i don’t really have anybody, sir. it’s just me.”

he grabbed your other hand without a word and put the gloves on your other hand. he put your hands in a clapping position and lifted them up to his mouth, letting out a warm breath of air, letting your fingers finally feel warmth.

“yeah, me either.”

he puffed air onto your fingers one more time, holding them tight so the heat wouldn’t escape.

“thank you, sir.” was all you could say. levi ackerman, humanities strongest, was your long time secret love. everything about him made you love the world a little more, even after all you went through. you never dared to speak word of it, but this gesture reminded yourself how much.

“we aren’t on duty until monday. i’d rather not hear my work name, y/n.” he looked at your footprints going in a circle, and before you could apologize he followed them, “were you walking?”

you blinked at his suddenness and followed him, “yes. i… well to be honest i love this weather. it helps me think and so does walking, so i decided to do both.”

he stopped to look at you, the way that made your skin crawl. he was a captain for a reason. he had this look like he see your thoughts and feelings, and it scared you because you didn’t want him to find out how you felt about him.

he suddenly stuck his arm out to you. shocked, you hesitated and then took it. it’s normal for a captain and a soldier to take a walk together… right?

“who did you lose?” the captain said after a long silence.

your heart dropped, “what?”

“i can tell a thing or two, being raised in the underground. who did you lose when the wall fell?”

your sighed, “to be honest, i was one of the lucky ones who didn’t lose anyone that day.”

he stopped walking and turned to you as the wind kicked up a bit, knocking his hood down, “but you said you were spending this weekend alone?”

“yes…” you brushed your hair out of your face, some anxiety picking up making you want to walk again. “it’s honestly embarrassing as to why but—“

you went to walk away and his hands grabbed your shoulders pulling you right back to where you were, in front of him. but you noticed it was a little bit closer.

“i’ve lost people in more way than i can count.” he said trying to open a conversation door, talking quieter than his previous words.

you noticed his hands were still on you and you tried not to think about it as you spoke, “unfortunately… nobody wanted me.” you began looking at the floor now. your shoes were covered in snow, you could make out a pretty snowflake on the right one.

“keep going.” he said quietly.

you looked up and he seemed so patient. just looking at you. it was like the perfect picture and you hated yourself for it, but tears filled your eyes. how come he can look at you like this but your family can’t? your hometown friends? how come the only person who can is your captain who you loved so much?

“they decided to disown me if i joined the scouts. i told them my heart and soul was to the cause. and they told me i was nothing but wasted tax dollars and i never heard from them again. i know they are all gathered tonight, it’s embarrassing because how do i go from being the glue to a family to shunted into the dark?”

he didn’t say anything and you felt him examine your fragile state.

“they don’t deserve you.”

your eyes widened and you looked up at him. he still had on that blank stone face, but he grabbed you softly by the elbow and led you back inside the castle all the way into the dining hall with a large fireplace. he stay you down and lit a fire, which you thanked him for but received no response. he walked away leaving you wonder until he came back with two mugs of black tea.

“thank you.” you said kindly.

“they don’t deserve you, y/n. i mean it.”

you could’ve choked on your tea, but kept yourself together. you thought you both had moved on from the conversation but he had been thinking about it this whole time apparently.

“levi,” causing his face to turn pink for only a second until he drank a sip of tea. “you don’t have to say that, it’s okay.”

“you’re my best soldier, and probably the best person here. you’ve taken blows you damn shouldn’t have for other cadets, you take more hours and put in more effort than others at your level, and you still take time for people to feel welcomed. so no it’s not okay, i don’t like my soldiers being talked about like that.”

he took a sip of his tea as if he didn’t say a thing, leaving you speechless. “wow… thank you. i didn’t realize how much that bothered me until you pointed all these things out about myself.”

you both looked at the fire in a comfortable silence until you finished off your warm drinks. he stood up and took your mug.

“you’re appreciated here, especially by me. don’t think otherwise. you at least have one person who would bend themselves goddamn backwards for you. okay?”

you smiled and quickly wiped a tear, hoping he wouldn’t see, but of course he did.

“i hope you know the same, levi.”

he looked at you with that look again, blinked, and walked away to get rid of your mugs. the clock rang, and the remaining scouts entered the dining hall for breakfast.

you stayed where you were on the bench by the fire, feeling his ghost next to you, holding your hands and puffing hot air into them with a smile on your face, not knowing the captain was cleaning the dishes replaying the same thing.

maybe the snowy season won’t be so bad this year.

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a/n: okay so lmk how this is bc again i have covid i hope it’s in character enough omg HAHAH, i didn’t tag anyone bc i wasn’t sure how i felt ab it, so pls leave a comment below !

[triptychgrip]

A non-exhaustive list of things Yuuri and Viktor would write fanfiction about

Viktor would write a “fix-it” fic* to make up for his “Oops! Watch the nosebleed!” failure to catch Yuuri at the Chu-Shikoku-Kyushu regionals. He’d do so not only because of his own guilt around prioritizing his designer suit (which he’d throw away in shame), but also b/c Yuuri’s fans would never let him live that moment down, lol. I think Phichit would create a calendar appt set to repeat every September 25th (until the end of time), to remind Viktor of how he heartlessly let Yuuri fall to the floor, complete w/ exaggerated GIFs and memes. Kenjirou would probably join in

Because he is just as extra as his fiance (and feels bad for not remembering it), Yuuri would get Christophe/Yurio/Mila’s help to write a fic in which he DID remember the Sochi banquet. In this iteration, not only does he thrash Yurio in a dance-off and sweep Viktor off of his feet, but he — very shyly and very awkwardly — knocks on Viktor’s hotel room door the next morning, carrying an assortment of Japanese hangover remedies

After about a month goes by with no word from Yuuri post-Sochi, Viktor would take any breaks he can afford when not training for Europeans or Worlds to write the most extremely fanciful fanfic as an outlet for his pining/heartbreak, because…well, duh. Each of these stories would include extremely plausible reasons for why Yuuri just couldn’t contact him (none of which, obviously, involve the fact that he was trashed beyond belief). His favorite one includes the fact that Yuuri is actually a highly trained assassin working for the Japanese govt, who decides not to get in contact with Viktor because he doesn’t want his enemies to put a target on Viktor’s back. Oh, the gallantry!

As Viktor approaches his 30th birthday, Yuuri would note his increasing reluctance to acknowledge the milestone. Taking Georgi’s predictably dramatic advice, he’d surprise Viktor with a time travel fanfic*, one that is admittedly a bit trite in its “I’ll love you no matter what age you are, Vitya” theme, but that delights Viktor, nonetheless…especially when he notes that Yuuri only has eyes for him, even though his younger, 18 year old self is outrageously flirty with his fiancé. (Georgi, failing to note that this isn’t supposed to be an angst fic, would beg Yuuri to up the ante on the crying)

When Viktor tears his meniscus during the 2011 off-season, Yuuri writes a fic in which they meet by way of Viktor being sent to a famed healing/rehabilitation clinic in Fukuoka. In this fic, Yuuri actually would decide to go home to Hasetsu in the off-season, meaning he would not only get to know Viktor, but also reunite with his sweet poodle 😭

Seeing how anxious Yuuri is during the planning of their wedding, Viktor — in a very sweet but misguided way — decides to write him a crack-y fanfic in which just about everything that can go wrong on the day of, does go wrong. This is sort of meant to be a “see, Yuuri?! Even with all of that terrible stuff happening, the day still turned out perfect, because I got to marry you!” kind of thing, and even though Yuuri nearly has a panic attack while reading it, he ultimately does derive comfort from it (and he also triple checks that Otabek as their DJ does not actually intend to play any risqué music at the reception that will send his elderly relatives into states of catatonic shock, as happens in the fic)

Bonus: After losing some kind of drunken bet, Yurio writes a fic that he then forces Yuuri and Viktor to role-play. In it, all of Viktor’s hair falls off the day after Onsen on Ice. Ashamed to be seen like this by Yuuri, Viktor hightails it back to St. Petersburg and grovels at Yurio’s feet for forgiveness

If you’ve read my “fic-ception” series in which Yuuri and Viktor jointly write (and publish) a sappy/smutty friends-to-lovers and role-reversal story starring their fictional selves, you probably aren’t surprised to hear that this very meta concept has completely taken over my brain.

While writing Put It In Reverse For Thirst, I couldn’t help but ideate around the kinds of things Yuuri and Viktor might explore in the wondrous world of fanfiction, both before they got together, and afterwards.

Above are just a few of the ideas that came to mind…I’ll probably make a part 2! What else do you think they’d write fanfic about? I think the possibilities are endless.

*these are ideas I have in the works for potential stories. My WIPs folder is a disaster

[harleyquilt]

Still Calling (Disco Elysium fanfic)

Summary: Dora is haunted by thoughts of her past after Harry calls her in the middle of the night, just before dawn. She laments what has passed and finds the resolve to continue as she has always done.

Words: 2,362~

Notes: The BrainRot is taking hold! Finished the game recently, and frankly, I'm obsessed. Just an introspective piece based on my favourite moment in the game. Hope you enjoy!

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

Dora’s hands tremble, loosening her fingers around the cold, curved spine of her phone. She leans back against her soft cushions, the hard, wooden headboard underneath keeping her from collapsing entirely. She lets out a long, shaky sigh and squeezes her eyes shut, hearing the rustling of bedsheets beside her. A hand touches her shoulder – a light, delicate gesture, skin against skin – and she flinches, her eyes opening. Wide and alarmed. Her husband is watching her, his brows knitted together. He’s worried, she knows, and in hopes of relieving him, she offers a wry smile, placing her hand on top of his and giving it a small squeeze. 

“Sorry, I should’ve woken up sooner.” He speaks quietly, the room still dark. The sound of birds can be heard singing their morning songs just beyond their bedroom window. “It was him, right? Harrier.”

The name makes her heart clench. Her chest hurts.

Thankfully, Dora doesn’t need to say anything, her husband having answered his own question. Even so, she nods, biting her bottom lip. She looks back at the phone, and as if summoning him, the sharp trill of her ringing phone begins again. 

Calling. 

Calling. 

Calling. 

Still calling…

Dora’s husband leans over her and ends the call, silencing the excruciating, ringing noise. He leans back, now sitting up, and places a hand against Dora’s cheek. She leans into his palm, shutting her eyes again. Expecting Harry to call again, she waits silently for the phone to ring once more. But it doesn’t. She is instead left to wallow in the bitterness and pity that continues to ooze out of the picked scab that are her memories, a scab Harry picked through with his dazed ramblings and desperate pleas. She can almost smell the alcohol in his breath. It has been some time since she has last felt like this. Two years maybe, or three? She tries not to keep track, wanting to instead forget the history both her and Harry once shared. And for a while, she had, focusing instead on the present, with her husband and daughter. But it is never enough, it seems, the painful ache in her heart as prominent as it was the day she left him standing there, dumbfounded, on the crosswalk. 

“I shouldn’t have talked to him.” Dora keeps her eyes lowered, her bottom lip now sore. “I know I shouldn’t have. You don’t need to tell me.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Her husband responds, his voice a soft embrace she desperately craved. “He caught you off guard. It was unfair to you. Selfish.”

Dora nods slowly, swallowing. There is an uncomfortable lump in her throat. “Yeah.” Her voice is quiet now. Hoarse. “Let's get back to sleep. I need to go to work soon.”

“Sure.” His hand falls away. She looks up then, relieved to see the understanding in his eyes.

“Thank you.” She truly means it.

Her husband lies back down, pulling Dora against his body and holding her in his arms. They’re long and thin, but comforting nonetheless. Just…different. She only remembers how different his arms are during moments like these, when the sound of Harry’s voice, his words, his fear, twist around her mind, smothering her thoughts with a steel-like grip. An intrusion to a peace she's trying to desperately maintain. Her husband kisses the back of her head, banishing her anxious imaginings, and his fingers lace through hers, their bodies tangled together. She wonders if he can feel the thudding of her heart, gradually slowing back to a calm, steady rhythm. 

Your voice sounds so beautiful.

Such words once made Dora’s cheeks grow warm and her body feel light and airy with an innocent, naive joy she will likely never experience again. It was a reminder of a youth untainted by the reality that would eventually find her, find them, while they blindly crashed into the mirage that was once their dreams. There would be no returning to what once was, they knew, and that realisation was enough to burn away whatever remnants of the child-like joy that had originally brought them together. Hearing those words again, after so long, left her chest feeling hollow, his love an echo rupturing the pillars of bone and soft, fleshy innards within. Why could he not move on? Was this her punishment, for thinking she could walk away from the burning wreck of their relationship? For knowing that there was no repairing what was unrepairable? 

Dora takes a deep breath, wishing away these tormenting speculations with a long, slow exhale, willing herself to sleep again. She listens to her husband's breathing, his chest rising and falling in tandem to her own. The birds continue to sing, the darkness of the sky giving way to the light of dawn. Soon, the sun will peek between the tall, brick apartment buildings, bringing with it the morning and its warmth. It is a comforting thought, knowing time will continue to move on, as it has always done, as it will always do. And soon, sleep pulls her back into the depths of her mind, spindling her imagination into shapes, colours, and sounds – a spectacle of dreams that will swarm her mind with emotions she will never be able to describe, not with words. 

.

.

.

“Harry…” Dora sighs, feeling his rough, calloused hands hold hers. They’re large– could easily crush hers, if he really wanted to – but he instead holds them like they’re made of glass. Like they will break under the slightest pressure. Perhaps he is right, a notable tremble in her limbs.

“Please,” he’s shaking his head, and though the sound of the city continues its loud barrage of noise around them, his quiet voice persistently reaches her ears. It reminds her of the music that once brought them together, except that it is now warped beyond recognition. “Please, let’s head back home. Let’s talk about this. You don’t have to leave, not like this.”

“No, Harry.” She looks back to the aerodrome station down the street, and then her watch. Time continues to tick away, mercilessly so. No, this is a favour, to her and her alone. Time is doing her a favour. “We’ve talked enough. I need to go, or I’ll miss my flight.”

His lips quiver, trying to find the right words to say. Going down his list. Trying every line, pursuing each question. Hoping to find a combination that will work. Again and again, until there’s nothing left to say. It would have been less painful had she left during the night, she thinks. No, even then, he’d realise something was off and find her, just as he had done now. It was inevitable, just as it had been inevitable for her to come to this decision.

“I don’t–” He struggles to speak, his voice cracking as tears begin to roll down his cheeks. “I can’t do this without you, Dora. Don’t do this.” 

Perhaps he saw at that moment that there was no changing her mind, the resolution settled in her calm, ocean-like eyes. There was no compromise to be seen, no remaining doubts to pry into, no alternative to dig out with his bloodied, bruised fingertips. It was simply too late, the moment of no-return having passed long ago. And realising this, a panic seizes him, a despair in not knowing what to do next. She hoped that it would be enough to walk away, but…

He falls onto his knees, still holding onto her hand. An anchor slipping out of his grip. There are people watching, their eyes set on their tragic display. It is nothing more than a performance to these people, and for this play, Dora is playing the role of the villain. She bites her lip, finally tugging her hand free, her breathing unsteady.

“It’s too late, Harry.” She’s already moving, moving quickly down the street, knowing that he continues to watch her, begging through his heartbreak. “I have to–

“Dora?” 

Dora blinks and gives her head a quick shake. “Hm? Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

Her co-worker is quiet for a moment. “You look tired.” He finally remarks, pushing a cup of brewing tea towards her. “Did you not sleep well?” 

There's a strained smile on her sore lips. “Not really, no.” She takes the cup of tea and holds it between her palms, the warmth seeping into her skin. “Bad dreams.” 

Before the co-worker can respond, however, the academy bell begins to ring. A loud, shrilling noise that is uncannily similar to a phone ringing. Dora’s stomach continues to twist and turn with anxious rumination. Looking back from the ringing bell, her co-worker gives her an encouraging pat on the shoulder before heading off to his next class. It is a free period for her, and so, she leans back against the counter and brings the cup to her lips. Dora watches the world outside from the window beside her as she savours the aroma of her berry-flavoured tea. 

The sky is overcast – dark and dense, the clouds heavy with rain – and the world below is a dull array of browns and greys. It will be spring soon, but the touch of winter decay continues to linger, the ground muddied and damp, and the trees naked, their branches rattling against the wind. Mirova is beautiful during the warmer months, but during the late autumn and winter, it isn't too dissimilar to Revachol. 

Revachol…with its congested roads and snake-like rows of buildings, fat and bloated from the tenants lurking within. All the colours seemed muted, accommodating the pessimistic depression that hung over the city. There was a charming ugliness in it all, and alongside the constant noise of the city, she could hear the symphony of urban life: passing cars, distant shouts and petty arguments, a faraway gunshot or two, and the sound of music interlaced between it all. Yes, the music – that is what Dora remembers most about the city. A stream of different tunes, rhythms, and beats flowed between the cracks in the pavement stones, cutting through the smog that permeated the city, interconnecting the entirety of Revachol with new age melodies and lyrical agony. Disco was the rage when she was young, Dora remembering the flashing lights and outlandish dancing that made your heart race with unrestrained exhilaration. Revachol parties, they used to say. They – the voice of the city itself, said with distinct pride. She can almost hear the music now, Dora's eyes fluttering shut. 

She met Harry through Disco. He was just a regular man back then. No, that is not entirely true; he was The Man, a Cool Dude, stylish, yet manly. His body was broad and muscled, softened with the charming smile she vividly remembers admiring. That she remembers seeing falter year after year. In fact, much of what he became is unrecognisable, compared to who he once was. 

Dora frowns, remembering how she eagerly filled his head with hollow dreams, pointing him down a dead-end path. It was the age of disco – there was no anticipating the cold, cruel future that awaited them, like a sneaking predator and its bleeding prey, waiting and watching for the right moment to pounce, crushing the prey's neck between its blood-soaked jaws. Maybe they should've realised sooner, should've understood that life wasn't so forgiving. Maybe they would've, had the music not been so intoxicating. 

Even so, Dora continuously questions if it was her fault that they ended up the way they did, having been the one to convince Harry to become a cop. She shakes her head, drowning out her thoughts with the hot, sweet taste of her tea. Her tongue tingles after she swallows, pushing back the memories leaking into her mind. 

She has already spent too much time thinking about what ifs, about what she could've done differently. She has already lamented her failings as Harry's partner, wishing she could somehow break the laws of the universe and turn back time to the moment she convinced him to take that cursed job. But she can't, and it is a truth that she has accepted long ago. 

“I shouldn't have talked to him.” She mutters, her grip tightening around her cup. “Why did I talk to him…?” 

She looks back outside, seeing a young couple walk arm-in-arm towards the academy. One looked remarkably like Dora when she was younger, the girl's hair a bright blonde, and her round, innocent eyes a vivid blue. Her partner is a handsome man, tall and dressed neatly. A businessman, perhaps? They stare longingly into each other's eyes, exchanging secret messages only they can hear and envisioning a future only the inexperienced can hope for. 

Is it bitterness rising up Dora’s throat? Regret? She had nothing to regret, knowing that she is truly content with her loving family and stable job, a dream life she has managed to finally achieve, despite the failings of her past. So what is this discontent? She looks away, her eyes downcast. 

“I had hoped…” Dora mumbles, squeezing her eyes shut. “That you would've moved on.” 

But what more can she do? The greatest favour she can do for him is one she has already decided upon – to leave him be, to allow him to be his own person once more. It felt irresponsible in some ways, as if she were willingly leaving him to rot someplace her eyes cannot reach, but it was the only solution that she could find when despair continued to converge onto her. Onto them. Yes, this is the only solution, both back then and now. 

Disco has come to its natural, inevitable end and it was time to move on.

Taking a deep breath, she finishes her drink and walks away from the window, ready to continue with her day. It won't be easy, but she has trudged through deeper depths than this. She'll be fine, she knows. 

And far, far in the distance, beyond the twisting, enigmatic span of the Pale, where the icy winds cut through the dark, wintery night, and the air carries the stench of an unsolved murder, a detective finds the motivation to continue with his investigation. 

[glazedsnail]

Fanfic bells are ringing

The usual o>

Misery Loved Company

ShanexOCFarmer (♀️) 18+ / swear words/substance misuse/explicit/suicide ideation/mention of abuse/Blood/injury

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Lemme remind y'all this started as a fluff piece of a few paragraph. I have no self control.

I think this part's a tad long I didn't know where to cut it, and there's like 3 lines for Shane in all of it soooo... Anyway.

(Ya know it's funny cause I barely ever swear IRL and those two swears like sailors, I mean I know Fern does, but I'm pretty certain Shane's the type to swear All The Frigging Time)

That's my current (and only) farmer Poppy in bed with her husband and their cat Cauliflower. I've not played the game since I started writing this fic BECAUSE THE SAD CHICKEN MAN IS RULING MY LIFE.

But it's fine I'm an out of work drop out, I'm government property and I chose to write, so we're all good.

Anyway. Enjoy!

The sun stings me in the eye. I wake up on the dirty floor. It takes me a while to realise that the weight on my body is from my chickens, who clearly find my lifeless body comfortable to perch on. I shoo them off and try to sit up. My head is turning the chicken coop upside down, I feel I’m going to be sick. I’m freezing, and dirty. My whole body aches. Dry mud, dirt, hay, bird poop, all over my face. I wipe as much as I can with the water left from the trough. I wish I was in one of those stories where I’d wake up hungover and not remember anything. But I remember everything. Ugh. I stand up, Shane’s hoodie falls from my shoulders. I shudder, but pick it up nonetheless and head out. The sun is quite high and bright. I slept through all of my morning chores. The sheep are loudly braying for their breakfast. I should probably do that first. The ending summer wind sends chills on my bare shoulders. I have no other option but to wear his stupid Joja hoodie. I lazily and quite mechanically take care of my farm, as far as my strength lets me. All along my brain is simply preoccupied by what happened the day before. Simultaneously wanting to forget, and wanting to understand, confused and… oddly delighted by the eventful evening. Lying to myself wouldn’t help anything. I had a great evening. I said so many stupid things. It’s no wonder he took off after having…what he wanted? I have a hard time depicting Shane that way. But at the same time, the facts are what they are. I can’t say I blame him, he saw his opportunity and took it, given how freely I just handed it to him anyway. Cause I’m just a stupid, stupid, stupid whore!!

I take a deep breath. What was my therapist constantly saying? What would a healthy adult say in these times. A healthy adult would say that I’m a stupid whore. No point sugar coating it. Mh. The village suicidal whore. I’m upstaging Shane in so many ways. Another deep breath. Retrace my steps, our steps. I said “Hi, I’m Fern”, he said “I don’t know you, why are you talking to me”. From then I just stopped talking to him. Before I tried again, and I said “Rough day at the farm, wanna share a beer?” And he said “Fuck off.”. So far, perfectly healthy. Perfectly healthy. I didn’t want anything with him at the time, per se. Marnie did warn me he’d eventually warm up to me, I think. Even then, after that horrible brush off at the saloon I completely gave up. Who wouldn’t? Why would I put any kind of effort when I’d just move in, and others were much friendlier to me. It can’t just be that damages attract damages, this is ridiculous. We don’t have super sense alerting us of other people's misadventures. If we did, we’d be much nicer, I believe. What was so enticing back then. Why did a simple glimpse of his kindness make me lose all common sense and make me seek approval from someone like him? He did warm up to me, and I got to see his smile, sometimes I’d be the one making him smile. 

I loved making him smile. And laugh. What happened. What happened that all of a sudden he had to disappear like that. I’m not a fool, I know exactly what it is. He didn’t want any of that teenage lovey dovey thing we had going on before last night. Why would he, a grown ass man, want to wait more than one date to get to the goods. I’m a grown ass woman, I’ve seen them all. I still gave it to him on a silver platter. I wanted him though. I did. I do. And why would he want me anyway? 

I shrug. Can’t be that he’s just a man, that’d be too easy. I really fell for him, didn’t I? Like the big ass loser I am. Big breath. Talking about myself like that won’t help. What would a healthy adult say I don’t know Shannon I don’t know! If I knew I wouldn’t be in your office now would I! Ok, I’m attacking my therapist now. Everything’s fine. Take a deep breath. 

A long bleat reaches my ear. I jump.

One of my sheep is nibbling on my ear, trying to get my attention. My laps are dripping with milk. I’ve been trying to feed my lamb but I obviously let the lamb go. I didn’t even realise that damn lamb was gone. Deep in my thoughts, raging at myself and myself alone. I thought chores were supposed to keep the bad thoughts at bay.

I finally walk back to the house. The blanket and Shane’s backpack are not there anymore, and my basket has neatly been put away under the porch. I scoff. All I want is a shower and my bed. 

It seems someone’s been knocking at my door for the last ten minutes. While I applaud their insistence, my killing headache and EXHAUSTED soul just want to go on a rampage. They won’t leave. 

I get out of my warm, albeit lonely, bed and stagger towards the door, holding my head. I barely open the door than Marnie waltzes in.

‘Oh Fern, thank Yoba you’re there. I was almost going to call Clint to break the door down. We need to talk. Come on sit down I’m going to make us some tea. I’m relieved to find you there in one piece. Go on have a sit.’

She runs all over my kitchen, filling the kettle, placing it on the hob. She even grabs two mugs she throws on the table. I sneakily grab the one that is mine to put in front of me. They’re both mine, but this one in particular is mine. She dumps some of my loose leaf tea in a pot and drops boiling water on top of it. All I can think is how stupidly bitter this drink is going to be. She talks fast, moves fast. I can barely keep up, my head turns on itself trying to follow her movement around my kitchen. 

And she finally sits down. ‘I spoke with Shane’ She starts. Figures. ‘When you two started to get closer I was pretty excited.’ She strains the leaves above our mugs. I thank her and wrap my fingers around the warmth. She continues. 

‘I was hopeful you’d help him get straight.’ She takes a sip. ‘Oh this is ghastly. Do you have anything else?’ I painfully stand up, head pounding. I’m so tired. I look into the fridge and grab the bottle Emily gave me last night, for my date with Shane. I want to slap myself so badly.

I decide against it and bring the bottle along with two glasses.

‘Oh, strawberry juice! That’ll do. Thank you. Anyway. Shane’s been helping much more around the ranch, been around for Jas more too. And I think I’ve got you to thank.’

I shake my head and stop pouring the juice, furrowing my eyebrows. ‘Marnie no, you’ve got it all wrong.’

‘I know, I know. Nevertheless! Oh that’s good juice. Like I was saying, I wasn’t at all against the idea of you two. But, things have been raised and I don’t think it’s a good idea anymore.’

‘Pardon?’

‘You, and Shane.’

I want to correct her but she continues.

‘I know you’ve got a good heart, Fern. We all do. But he’s been working so hard on himself, what with the therapy and all. So, until you’re more stable’

‘Pardon?!’ I repeat.

‘Oh Fern please don’t take it too hard. I just want Shane to be able to reach his full potential, and he can’t do it with’

‘With what?’

‘People like you pulling him down.’

I’m not sure I heard her right. I’m going to be sick.

‘People like me?’

‘I do hope you’ll find the proper people to help you’

‘The proper people? To help me?!’ 

‘You know, with your’ she lowers her voice ‘ suicidal shenanigans.’

She could have been throwing her hands at my throat the result would have been the same. I feel like I can hardly breathe. White noise takes over my ears. I try to cover my face in my hand to recover from the blurriness but I meet a bump on my forehead. 

‘Who told you that?’ I stupidly ask, knowing fully well Shane’s the only one who’s been told. I feel sick. Was it the first thing he told his aunt after creeping back in the early morning? I feel incredibly stupid, used, again.

‘Fern, it does not matter. I know you care for him. But you’re an influence he can do without.’

I take her words without flinching. Or so I hope I looked that way.

‘Shane is a grown man, Marnie. I think he can make his own decisions.’

‘I know Fern but’

‘Besides, he already made his choice. So you can keep your knickers untwisted.’ 

She stands up, not having any of it.

‘Is that why you’re wearing his clothes?’

I look down. Damn. Credibility is gone. I slept with his hoodie back on like an idiotic enamoured teenager. I hate myself. I remove it and put it on the table, grabbing my full glass and Marnie’s empty one. ‘He’s expecting it back’ I say coldly ‘Just take it and go’

‘Fern, you have to understand.’ 

‘Just go, Marnie. Please.’

‘I know it hurts’

‘I said GO!’ I scream, smashing the glasses against the mug filled with still boiling water.

She doesn’t move. She’s seen them all. The mother hen. As she walks to the door she says in a soft motherly voice.

‘In the long run, you’ll see that it’s better. For both of you.’

She disappears behind the door. I’m about to collapse but I can only scream at the boiling water covering my hand and arm. I run to the sink and try to get the juice but it just keeps pouring. Each rub against my skin is excruciatingly painful. I realise it’s not juice.

‘Crap crap crap crap’ I lift my arm up, trying to stop the bleeding.

My tears blur the little vision I have left. I can’t find my first aid kit. No gauze, no disinfectant. What type of farm is this! I put blood everywhere trying to find help, my kitchen looks like a crime scene. I attempt the cold water again but in vain, the blood just keeps gushing out. I feel faint. I grab a kitchen towel and wrap it around the gashes on my arm and hand. I try to squeeze as much as I can, thinking I can use it as a tourniquet.

I am not a sensible, nor clever woman.

No, I need help. I need to go to the hospital. I manage to turn the door, spreading blood all over the knob. Carrying my injured arm I take a deep breath and head out. Fainting on the way would be so embarrassing. Please, I swear to Yoba, let me at least reach the clinic.

I stumble on a fence. Shit, no food, no sleep, and blood loss really take it out of you. I try with all my remaining strength not to collapse. I do not want to collapse. Do not want to be found. Do not want to be saved. Please, please, please.

‘Miss Fern!’

Fuck.

I turn around with a smile. Penny is walking with Vincent and Jas.

‘Fern, hello. I was showing them mom’s bus and…Oh dear Lord Fern are you ok? You’re pale as a ghost!’ 

‘Hi Penny, kids, hi. Penny, please take the kids away.’

‘What’s happening Miss Penny?’

‘Vincent quick go get some help.’

He doesn’t even wait for me to protest that he’s gone like a bullet. Penny attempts to carry me up from the fence. ‘I’m going to Harvey’s’ I manage to say through my teeth. Sweat is dripping on my forehead.

‘Miss Fern? Miss Penny?’

Jas is looking at us one after the other, her eyes slowly swelling up with tears. She’s panicking.

‘Jas, I’m fine, look at me. I’m fine, look.’ I smile, but she’s not believing me one bit. Penny’s helping me as much as her delicate frame can. I feel myself slowly slip. Jas is now properly crying.

‘I’m sorry’ I say, not particularly knowing why.

Why did I decide to survive all of a sudden.

Vincent comes back with the grocer and his wife. Penny hands me over to Pierre and turns her attention back to the kids. 

Once in front of the clinic, Caroline fiercely knocks on the door. I’m terrified that all the noise is going to make more villagers appear to watch the show. I don’t need this. Maru opens the door to the clinic and lets Pierre drag me to an empty bed.

‘Where’s Harvey?’ Asks Caroline.

‘He was just heading out, I think he’s at the supermarket.’

‘Are you kidding me?!’

‘Pierre! This is hardly the moment! I’ll go fetch him.’ 

‘What happened?’

Pierre redirects Maru to Penny who’s still trying to calm the kids.

‘We were walking back to town with Vincent and Jas and she was just…planted on a fence, holding her hand.’

I can feel Maru unwrapping my arm.

‘Oh my.’

‘Is Miss Fern going to be ok?’

‘Penny please get the kids out. It looks like she’s lost a lot of blood. Did you see her fall at all? There’s a consequent hematoma on her forehead.’

‘No, this is how we found her.’

‘Miss Penny’

‘The kids out, NOW. Fern, can you hear me?’

She blinds my face with her small light, trying to get a reaction out of me. I nod. Pierre is pushing the kids and Penny out of the room. Maru is hooking me up to a bunch of stuff and gently cleans my arm.

‘How did that happen?’

‘I broke a glass.’

‘Fern!’

Shit not his voice.

‘Shane you can’t be there!’

‘Sorry, he raced so fast in front of me I could barely keep up. Thank you Maru, I’ll take it from here.’

‘Fern, can you hear me?’

‘She’ll need stitches. I managed to stop the bleeding but I’m concerned about the hematoma on her forehead.’ 

‘The bleeding?’

‘Shane. Please!’ Harvey’s patience starts to wear thin.

I can barely make out Shane’s ridiculous Joja mart uniform. He tries to grab my arm.

‘Fern, what did you do?!’

‘You can come back when we’re done with her but now you’ve got to LEAVE!’

The doctor forcefully shows Shane the door. He resists but Harvey is having none of it.

I’m actually relieved that he’s gone.

[generatia]

* . °•★|•°∵[A Rainy Sotenbori Night]∵°•|☆•° . *

Just a little Majima x Reader Fanfic I made, y/n is a doctor and she forgot her umbrella after work [Read More] * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

It was a rainy night in Sotenbori, the smell of petrichor perforating through the city streets. Rain drops descended onto pavement in heavy blobs rather than subtle rain making all of the usual denizens who roamed the streets at this time fall away into the multitude of bars and clubs that littered the streets to escape the rain's wrath. Occasional lightning split the night sky giving a brief look into the dense clouds that loomed above the mesmerising neon signs illuminating the streets, a roaring sound of thunder often followed sending even the bravest souls indoors in fear of its rage, afterall no man was stronger than nature. 

In front of a convenience store underneath the awning stood you, impatient and very wet. 

“Crap, I can’t believe I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

Your uniform has been absolutely soaked through. The shirt you wore was heavily damp and sticking to your body in a cold, uncomfortable way pressing itself tightly against the remaining warmth of your skin, luckily you chose to wear a bra today although that didn’t take away from the shame you felt when others passed by and could almost see it. In the end you folded your arms tightly around your chest still holding your bag of groceries which were experiencing their own miniature flood inside the bag. Your black pencil skirt was now clinging to your figure firmly and the heels you chose to wear specifically today were completely ruined by the rain with each step creating a small squelching sound from the amount of rainwater in them. Nonetheless, you weren’t deterred. With one hand you took your phone out of your bag and flipped it open to try and call a cab so that you could at least try and get home before you caught some sort of illness or, before the flood waters of Sotenbori washed you away. You pressed the dial button and put it close to your ear and within seconds…

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your phone had run out of battery. Technology, reliable as always. You shoved the phone back in your bag almost flinging it off of your shoulder and leaned against the window of the convenience store with your hands folded around your chest silently pleading and begging the heavens to stop just for a moment so that you could at least walk the short distance back to your apartment but the rain was unrelenting, a beast which couldn’t be tamed. It seemed jealousy was consuming you as you watched some of the people who remained outside carrying an umbrella, a shield against the cold water falling from above. Not only that, they were bundled up in coats and jackets, something that you seemed to be lacking as you missed the weather forecast this morning, opting to instead stay in bed a little while longer. Seems you regretted it now as you watched each person pass on the street growing greener with envy each passing minute. 

There was an old man with an umbrella who was walking his dog. Why does he need one and why is he walking his dog in the rain at this hour? There was a man who was clearly stumbling home drunk barely holding onto his umbrella, maybe if he passed out you could take it from him… no that was an evil idea too heinous even for you.

“[Y/N]-chan, what are you doing here?” And then there was him.

He practically materialised in front of you. How could you have not noticed him sooner, were you so deep in your own thoughts that you let him practically stand in front of you. You quickly snapped out of your trance and looked up at the voice, it was Majima. He stood just a little bit outside of the awning allowing for droplets of water to fall onto his snakeskin jacket and lathering his hair in water making it stick to the sides of his face, its fullness dampened by the rain. The drops that fell slid down his chest and onto his abs, it’s rude to stare but you couldn’t help it the man was built like a statue you’d find in a museum. His trousers also stuck to him like glue revealing his lean figure, yet despite that you couldn’t help but think he looked handsome and mysterious that way, a little badass even but you could never tell him that or it’d go straight to his head.

Majima wasn’t any better either, he couldn’t help but stare at what you were trying to conceal. He could see your full figure now that the rain had kindly clung itself to your clothes making sure each centimetre was accounted for, he felt as though he was being exposed to you in a way he shouldn’t be able to see and it made him blush a little. To him you had seemed so vulnerable and so beautiful at a time like this with the neon lights of the street signs illuminating your features and reflecting inside your eyes like a kaleidoscope. It was a mesmerising site for any man to behold, yet he was the lucky one. His eyes greedily assessed your body hoping for a moment that no one was around so that he was the only one who could gaze at your allure. 

After a few seconds the moment of silent and longing gazes was broken. 

“Majima-san, it’s good to see you. I just finished work and stopped by the store when the storm hit. I may have forgotten my umbrella…” At that last part your voice trailed off a bit as if you were ashamed that you had forgotten it, growing slightly quieter hoping he wouldn’t hear it but as always, he did. You shuffled your feet a bit, a telling sign you felt as though he was going to reprimand you for it. You did promise him that you would try and take better care of yourself but here you were soaked to the bone and feeling miserable about the whole ordeal. 

“Eh, is that so,” he walked up closer to you now so that both of you were beneath the awning. He positioned himself next to you brushing his arm close to yours, the smooth, wet snakeskin rubbing against the nylon of your blouse. The sudden contact made your skin prickle with goosebumps and a feeling of heat washed over you from head to toe warming your insides for a quick second, butterflies in your stomach alerting all your other senses to high alert. “Then I guess I’m gonna have to wait with ya ‘till the storm dies down, ain’t I?” He leaned back against the window with you, flashing you a half smile as he took out a cigarette from his pack and slid it between his lips. 

You got a better look at his face now that his features were slightly more illuminated by the signs, he looked exasperated and worn out. His posture and tiresome features betrayed the confidence he tried to upkeep while attempting to light his cigarette and doing so poorly. He kept fiddling with the lighter opening and closing it but no flame erupted from its tip. 

“Damn thing won’t light.” He muttered under his breath, looking disgruntled at his lighter.

“Wait, let me.” You took a lighter out of your bag and turned towards him, one hand flicking your lighter open and the other cupping around the flame so that the breeze couldn’t extinguish it. It was a small moment, yet an intimate one. He watched you as the flame lit the tip of his cigarette, his hazel eye focusing on your features. “Well ain’t ya a doll.” He took a long drag of his cigarette and puffed out a dense cloud of smoke into the air, it twisted and turned with the shape of the wind creating hypnotic swirls. You took out a cigarette of your own from your bag and lit it, taking a puff. The rain pattered on the awning furiously.

“Tough day at work?” You broke the silence between you. He smirked and took a drag. “Thas one way of putin’ it.” He sighed heavily, looking out towards the street keeping his gaze focused on the few people that passed by. “What about you missy, didn’t I tell ya to keep better care of yourself?” His tone was inquisitive and playful, he was teasing you for your forgetfullness but this time you could fire back.  

“Says the man who looks like he hasn’t slept in a few days.” You chuckled while taking another drag of your cigarette. You had made him swear to you that if he ever had a sleepless night again he could come over and the two of you could lay in bed together until he felt tired enough to sleep. Yet he has yet to ring true on his promise and you could tell his insomnia was beginning to wear him out. 

“Yer got me there.” He lifted one hand in defeat, surrendering to your remark. “Guess both of us got things to work out huh?” His look was almost somber, there was something bothering him and you knew but he seemed very reluctant to give up any information, was it worth pressing about? He wasn’t the usual outgoing, exaggerated and overwhelming Majima you were used to, it seems like you were getting a glimpse of the true man behind the mask, here in the storm he was no longer the Mad Dog of Shimano but Goro Majima. Before you could further pry into Majima’s personal life however, he asked his question first, “How’s yer work goin’, boss still working ya to the bone?”

You exhaled softly, “As always. I haven’t seen you around the clinic recently though, I kinda miss your surprise visits.” There it was, your chance to finally ask where he’d been for the past few days and you took it. He’d been very silent for the past couple of days which was very much unlike him, knowing your relationship with him was still in its early stages you tried to make it seem as though you weren’t overly concerned and wanted to give him the space. Yet deep down inside it ate away at you, of course he would still call you when he had the time but those were very brief calls just to check in on you. It made you worry a lot.

Hearing those words made Majima stand a bit taller, his ears perked up at the sound of your words ringing an alarm bell in his head. “Is that so [Y/N]-chan?” He grinned as his eye moved in your direction. Your cheeks immediately turned a shade of pink realising what you had said, you gently nudged his shoulder with your elbow. He snickered at your faint attempt to fight back the embarrassment, he thought you were cute when you got so worked up. Despite his mocking tone you leaned your head against his shoulder which took him by surprise. There was a moment of silence between the two of you as you watched the smoke from Majima’s cigarette floating up towards the roof of the awning, the pitter patter of the raindrops above only getting louder. “You always made my day a little brighter. Even when it rains on days like this, just being near you makes me feel better.” You said looking down towards the floor averting making eye contact as you spoke. “I wish that I could make you feel better too.” Majima’s body tensed a little bit, he knew he wasn’t exactly his usual self but he didn’t realise it was so bad that even you could notice. “Eh don’t worry your pretty head about me, it’s nothin’ to be concerned about. Just that bastard Shimano breathin’ down my neck is all.” He flicked the butt of his cigarette onto the ground where it went out almost immediately. He moved his shoulder slightly from underneath your head and put his arm around you bringing you closer to him, you stumbled slightly and regained your balance by his side, one hand pressing against him. “Yer a sweetheart for worryin’ though.” “Promise me that’s everything?” Your words sounded almost like a plea. They sounded weak, but that's all you felt like when you were around him. He was the only man who could ever make you let your guard down, he tore the walls that you had built up around you and let himself in. 

He looked down at you, despite being soaked to the bone all Majima saw in front him was beauty. He loved just how open you were when you were around him and hoped that one day he could pour his heart out to you on another rainy night in Sotenbori just like this one, but maybe in the comfort of your home. There were so many things he wanted to tell you about himself that were always at the tip of his tongue, on the cusp of being said and yet he had always held back in fear of losing himself in you completely. He was guarded and unable to let go just yet. He lifted his gloved hand to your chin and held it up ever so slightly then pressed his lips against yours, his goatee prickling your chin. A sudden rush of euphoria coursed through you, a heat swelled inside your chest and the butterflies in your stomach felt like they were about to burst. “I promise ya, that’s all that's botherin’ me.” You knew it was a lie, a sugar coated lie, a white lie. It still seemed like he needed time and you were willing to give it to him, after all he was a member of the Yakuza and had many secrets held within himself and the scars on his body. They told a tale you were yet to uncover, one piece at a time you’d patiently chip away at his defenses. You wordlessly nodded in acknowledgement, giving him a peck on the cheek feeling his warmth.

“Seems the rain isn’t going away any time soon…” You proclaimed, the rain had only fallen harder the longer you were standing outside the convenience store. The awning above you began to fill with water creating a dip above you. “Seems like it, ain’t your place nearby though?” Majima wondered if he remembered the address correctly, even second guessing himself. 

“Yeah but, I don’t wanna get more soaked than I already am.” You pouted, your body began to shiver from the cold breeze that penetrated the city streets. Your skin felt as if there were daggers slowly stabbing at the softness beneath the wet nylon. An idea sparked in Majima’s head, an idea that might have to take a little convincing to spark into fruition but an idea nonetheless. He grinned a toothy grin as he looked down at you. “If ya don’t wanna walk home how bout I carry ya instead, ay?” Your eyes widened a little at the idea, but before you had the chance to respond Majima took off his jacket and put it over you revealing his bare form. He looked as if the gods themselves had sculpted him and your eyes were immediately drawn to the hanya mask on his back, it was an immaculate work of art and told his story with its many colours and perfect lines. You wondered if one day you could uncover the story of the hanya mask, if he would lay in bed next to you and tell you how he became who he was today, the man so many feared and yet you loved. “So, I’m gonna carry ya and you’re gonna put the jacket over us both how’s that sound?” You smiled as you cocked one eyebrow up in disbelief at his suggestion, the Majima you knew was slowly creeping his way back to you. 

“I don’t think I get much of a choice here.” “Yer right ya don’t.” Before you could say any more he lifted you up off of the ground and hoisted you up on his back. You squealed momentarily as one of your arms locked itself around Majima’s neck and the other lifted the jacket over your already soaked hair. “Majima! You could’ve at least given me a warning.” Despite your reprimand you giggled as you pulled yourself closer to him, feeling his body warmth despite the cold temperatures outside. Did the man ever even feel the cold with the way he only walked around in the snakeskin jacket, you pondered. “Sorry darlin’ but I’d rather be warm in yer bed than stand out here all night.” He began to cackle as he started walking out of the awning into the cold and stormy night making his way up the street to a nearby apartment complex that was just a couple minutes away. You clung onto him for dear life, face pressed against one of his shoulders, this close you were able to fully take in more than the smell of the rain, his cologne. It was a strong odour from this close, he smelt like frankincense and honey with a mix of saffron. The scent was simply intoxicating to you as you closed your eyes and imagined yourself laying next to him in the comfort of your bed away from all of the blinding neon lights of the city and away from the uncomfortable sensation of rain soaked clothing growing more apparent on your body.

Weaving in and out of the alleyways and streets, you and Majima had finally reached your apartment complex. What surprised you was that Majima had enough strength to even lift you up the stairs to the second floor and only let you get off once the two of you were right by your door. He let go of you gently so that you wouldn’t fall or stumble making sure you were ok afterwards. You quickly unlocked the door to your apartment and the two of you went inside finally escaping the stormy Sotenbori night. You placed the soaked groceries onto the table and breathed a sigh of relief finally being able to take off your soaked shoes in the hallway. Majima beat you to it, already being half undressed and laying on the couch trying to catch his breath while inadvertently staining your couch with rain water. You did tell him not to run too fast but he simply didn’t want to listen, opting to instead run as fast as he could so he could get you home. You dry off whatever groceries were saveable from your bag and sort them out in the kitchen while listening to your boyfriend panting on the couch like a dog gasping for air. 

You go to grab a couple of towels from the bathroom so the two of you can dry off from the rain and walk back into the room sitting on the couch next to where his tiresome body lay, his arm covering his eye. You watch his chest rise and fall for a minute soaking up his good looks, despite him being exhausted and out of breath you still felt an attraction to him that no one could explain. Your heart ached with longing for him no matter how close or how far he was, you loved him, perhaps too much. 

Eventually when he caught his breath, he let out a maniacal cackle as he rose up ever so slightly to prop his head up against your thigh.

“I ain’t doin’ that again that's for sure.” He said between desperate breaths. You caressed his cheek with your hand feeling how warm he was, his sweat now mixing in with the rainwater that was dripping from his hair. You took a towel and put it under his soaked hair, wrapping it around and gently ruffling it to try and dry off the excess rain. He closed his eye again and smirked, “Ya know I could get used to this kinda treatment.” 

“Could you now.” You said with a snarky tone, your half smile betraying the sarcasm in your voice. Majima looked up slightly and smiled, “Who wouldn’t want a pretty lady like you pampering them, aye?” His words turned your cheeks red and although they weren’t visible in the dimly lit room illuminated only by a neon yellow sign outside he could tell that his words made you blush. He knew exactly what to say to elicit a reaction from you, you were putty in his hands that he could mold however he wanted.

“Oh shush.” You nudged his head playfully, letting out a small giggle at his compliment. “Thank you for getting me home.” Your words were sincere, they rang deep in Majima’s ears and he opened his one eye and looked up at you, his hand instinctively reaching to your face despite it being in an awkward position. 

“Don’t mention it, doll.” You pressed his hand closer to your cheek holding it there for what felt like an eternity. You could still hear the downpour outside and see the raindrops falling against your window, the scenery was serene. A moment to remember when you encounter inevitable sleepless nights.

“We should get out of these soaked clothes before we catch a cold.” Your voice was almost a whisper. 

“Would that be so bad? I’d give anything to have ya nurse me back to health.” He grinned, pulling his hand away from your cheek so that he could make use of the towel you threw at him earlier.

“Not if we’re both ill.” You chuckled, beginning to unbutton the blouse, it was so soaked you were sure you’d have to wring it out before throwing it in the laundry basket. Stray droplets of rain could still be felt on your body. Majima sat up with the towel still around his hair, leaning back as he watched you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, even now you could feel his stare penetrating straight through you almost as if he could see the soul of your being. You stopped unbuttoning midway through and glanced at him.

“Can I help you?” You said mockingly, one eyebrow cocked up. 

“No, no, no please, carry on. I was enjoying the show.” “Pervert.” You smirked, throwing another towel at him hitting him square in the face.

“I getcha home in one piece and this is the thanks I get?” He scoffed playfully, upping the dramatics to make himself appear hurt by your words. Feeling a bit confident you got up off the couch and sat on his lap straddling him, he was shocked by the sudden action so much so that he didn’t even let out a breath. You lifted his chin with your finger and looked him directly in the eye. “If you’re enjoying it so much why don’t you do it.” His expression quickly changed from awe to mischief, it didn’t take much for him to get going. He liked the controlling side of you, the bold and brave woman beneath that was shrouded in a shy facade. It excited him. Wordlessly he took off his gloves and tossed them aside obeying your order and undoing each remaining button of your blouse slowly so that he could savour the moment. When he was done you let the blouse slip off of your skin and fall to the floor, his hands now resting on each hip feeling the heat of your body as he looked up at you. “Still enjoying the show?” You caressed his cheek, feeling the stubble of his goatee. “I’d enjoy it more if this weren’t in the way.” His finger hooked around the middle of your bra and pulled you in closer inches away from his face. Did his lips always look so enticing? They were like a forbidden fruit.“That's something you have to earn, Lord of the Night.” You jested, pressing your lips onto his. 

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

[minecraftrelatedrandomness]

The Morning Falls Nonetheless (1/1) | 2,087 words

Everyone knows who tore down the dumpling stall.

But with the power and influence they possess on the Isles, it's impossible for anyone to call them out on it. Doing so would amount to social suicide, and no one wants to lose their livelihood to the Overlords of the Heron Faction.

Alternatively, the fic I have been tormenting the POWCreations Discord with for the past week.

Written for @scarletfeisty.

Content warnings available in the tags and author's notes.

[azlan-snow]

BerryVerse Fanfic

Chapter Two

The next morning, Alastor arrives at the studio with Angel, and is greeted by Vaggie and Charlie. 

“Morning, Boss,” they say in unison.

“Morning, darlings,” He says, his sultry voice cutting through. 

“How was your evening,” Charlie asked, smiling as usual. 

“It was…interesting. But good nonetheless.” He turns “What are you doing, Angel?”

Angel turns around slowly, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. “Uh, Nothin’ Boss!”

“You’ve been here before, Angel.”

“I know! It’s still just breathtakin’ Boss.”

Alastor looked at Angel in confusion before resting his face. “Very well, then. See you in five minutes, darlings!”  Alastor teleports away with a moment’s notice and reappears in his little room in the studio. “Something’s definitely off.” He picks up his phone and calls Lucifer. 

“Yello?” 

“Hey Daddy,” he says, with a voluptuous voice. 

“Alastor! Please. Control yourself.”

“I think you were right.”

“About?”

“Angel. He’s acting differently.”

“Differently how? Minus the ways you told me last night.”

“I brought him to the studio and he was gawking.”

“Well, it is pretty fancy. You’re welcome by the way.”

“Thank you, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m referring to the fact that he acts like he’s never been here before. Like he had just appeared in Hell.”

“Relax, babe. I’ll come over later so I can see what you are talking about.”

“Thank you. See you later, Darling.”

“Bye, Babe.”

Alastor came out of the little room and was greeted by Vaggie. “Boss, you good?”

“Yes, darling. I’m quite alright. How about you? How was work?” “It was fine. The men left me alone, thankfully.”

“Is everyone prepared?”

“Yes. Angel is waiting for you, but keeps laughing at us, saying ‘I can’t believe this,’.”

“So I’m not the only one to notice his strange behavior.”

“No. But we’ll leave it to you, Boss. You seem like you know what to do.” 

“Not yet. But I will.” Alastor makes his way to the studio and sees  Angel, looking stunning as usual. “Angel, darling, are you ready to begin?” I say as I sit on my couch, in between Charlie and Vaggie.

“Yeah, Boss.” 

As Angel performed, I began to formulate what to ask. “What's on your mind, Boss?” Vaggie asks, looking at me with a worry residing on her face. 

“It's nothing, darling.”

“Are you sure Mr. Alastor,” Charlie asks me, same look over face as Vaggie. 

“I’m quite sure.” With that, I noticed the slip-up Angel had made.

“STOP.”

Everyone looked at each other, then at me, worried and nervous.

“Angel. Come here,” I say for the second time this week. Angel walks over to me, fear in his eyes once more. “Angel, darling. I’m not going to hurt you. You realize this, correct?”

“Yea, Boss.”

“Then why are you so tense?” I stand up, walk behind him and begin to massage his shoulders. Angel squirming, began to relax, but was making the massage quite difficult . I summoned a tentacle to hold him in place so I could continue, but Angel got the wrong idea. He released a moan which startled Charlie and Vaggie. I released him and he began to fall, but thankfully, Luci caught him. I didn’t even hear him come in. 

“Angel! You okay?”

“Sorry, Boss. I-it won’t hap-happen again.”

“Angel, darling. I’m not mad.” I kneel down next to him and Luci, and look him dead in the eye, shades no longer on my face.

“You-you aren’t?” 

“Of course not darling. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Angel began to cry heavily as Charlie and Vaggie walked over to us, embracing him. Luci stepped back to avoid the hug and stood behind me. “So we know what’s wrong.” I stand up and turn to face him. “What is it?”

“I think he went through a traumatic experience. Maybe with a client.”

“Perhaps. I will look into it. Thank you, Luci.”

“Of course babe. But you owe me a date.”

“Very well. I will call you later.”

“Okay. Bye!” 

“Goodbye, babe.” I gave him a kiss on the forehead and he turned beet red. He fled, looking as horny as ever. Then I hear Angel saying something. “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me! This was funny at first but now, it just seems like a twisted joke!” 

“What are you talking about, Angel?” Charlie questions, looking at Angel funnily.

“What am I talkin’ about? The fact that y’all are putting on this whole act because I called Al a strawberry pimp!” Charlie and Vaggie exchanged glances of confusion.

“What are you talking about. You think this is a joke?” Vaggie asks, confused

“Hell yea I do! Al ain’t even one to tolerate this shit! Prude don’t even like being in the same vicinity! You think this is somethin’ Al would do!”

“What are you talking about, Angel?”  I ask, horns beginning to sprout.

“You all know I have ta go to Valentino!” “Who is this Valentino you speak of.”

[crystalninjaphoenix]

The Morning is Sure to Come

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Thirty-Four

A JSE Fanfic

A lot of stuff happens in this one, and I'm not really sure how to describe it. Chase talks with his kids some more, and then falls asleep and has another dream with Jack, where he learns some more about the situation that was revealed last time. And meanwhile, Henrik, Jackie, and Marvin are getting close to Suilthair and scouting it out, looking for Chase and Jameson. Huh. Guess it wasn't as difficult as I thought. Anyway, with the summary done, I'll leave you to it. Enjoy! :D

Previous Part | | From the Start | More AU

Taglist: @brokentimewatch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two more days, and Chase and Jameson were still stuck hiding in the abandoned boathouse. They passed the time with Chase giving Jameson lessons on some combat maneuvers. It was strange without actual weapons, but Jameson appreciated it nonetheless. Surprisingly, he remembered a lot of these moves, either from his time at Wyvernlair or his youth when he was learning self-defense. But he was a bit rusty actually going through the motions.

“There has to be somewhere to get weapons in the city,” Chase muttered. “At this point, I think I can go out without too much suspicion. If I’m careful and come right back.”

Do you have any money? Jameson asked. I don’t, and I know weapons shops have high security.

“Damn. You’re right. It’s too risky to steal them. I could ask Amabel for money—no, I don’t want to do that.” Chase shook his head. “She’d probably take it from Stacia, a-and she might get in trouble, and I don’t want that.”

It’s fine, Jameson said. We’re doing well enough without them.

“For now,” Chase muttered. “Eventually we need to find a way off this island. And when we make our escape, we need to be prepared for a fight.”

Even though they couldn’t go out into town to get weapons, Chase started going around for other reasons. Gathering more information, mostly. Trying to find that way out of Suilthair. If there was one good thing about the week he wasted wandering around the city, it was that he developed a reputation. The common folk recognized him. They knew he was one of them and that the biggest danger he posed to anyone was asking for money. There was no reason to report someone like him to the royal warriors. He was pretty harmless in their eyes. Chase still had to worry about avoiding patrols, but at least he didn’t have to worry about everything.

Unfortunately, nobody he talked to knew of any way out of Suilthair besides the ferry. They were all quite insistent on that. Chase wondered if this was, perhaps, caused by the King’s enchantment influence. Maybe by making people want to stay in the city, he made them forget anything besides the official ferries? But surely there had to be smugglers or something. Who was he supposed to ask about that? Probably people who were more dangerous than the average cityfolk. Were they desperate enough to do that yet? No... maybe not. But in a couple more days, they might be.

Amabel continued to stop by every morning and evening. Chase was always happy to see her, even if he was getting more and more worried. If she kept doing this, someone would eventually notice where she was going. “Amy, are you sure this is safe?” he asked. 

“Mm-hmm.” Amabel nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Alright,” Chase said hesitantly. “But if it gets too dangerous, if people see you come here, I want you to stop.”

Amabel blinked. “Huh? No, I’m not gonna stop.”

“Amabel, I’m serious,” Chase said firmly. “What me and Jameson are doing is really dangerous, we don’t want you caught up in it.”

“You haven’t even told me what it’s all about!”

“Because you’re safer if you don’t know anything,” Chase said. He paused for a moment, trying to think about a way to explain that there was a chance the King could hear her thoughts if she got in too much trouble. “The people we’re up against have ways—magical ways—to find stuff out, even if you’re very, very careful. But if you really don’t know what they’re talking about, then they can’t do anything.”

Amabel stared at him. “Do you mean they’d hurt me?”

Chase was quiet for a moment. He didn’t want to tell his daughter that yes, the people out there would hurt her. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.” When the King sent the warriors to their home, they didn’t kill the children. But he wasn’t sure if that was because the King—or, the spirit controlling the King, as he had to remind himself—really didn’t want to cross that line, or if it was simply because he was focusing on eliminating the adult man who would defeat him one day.

Amabel was also quiet upon hearing that. Then she nodded. “Okay. I promise I’ll stop coming to see you if I think people see me. I don’t want anything to happen to Quentin or Mom without me.”

Chase gives her a small, sad smile. “You know you don’t have to be responsible for them, right?”

“Yeah, but... I wanna be there,” Amabel said slowly. “To, uh... Because...” She trailed off, unable to put words to the feelings she had.

Because you care about them? Jameson asked.

“Yea! Thank you, uh, Mr. Jameson,” Amabel said. “Oh. Dad. Quentin wants to come by tomorrow morning. Remember, you said I could bring him?”

“O-of course I remember,” Chase said. “Be very careful, it’ll be worse if both of you get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry, I can do it,” Amabel promised.

“Okay. In that case, I’ll see both of you tomorrow.”

The rest of that day passed without much of note, and tomorrow morning, Jameson shook Chase awake a bit earlier than normal. Your children are coming, he said, pointing to the ajar boathouse door.

Chase got up quickly and opened the door fully. It was a cloudy day today, but not gloomy. Even with the weak early morning light he could clearly see Amabel walking down the wooden walkway towards the boathouse, holding her brother’s hand in hers. Quentin waved at Chase, smiling when he saw him, and almost shouted a greeting before Amabel leaned close and murmured something to him.

Your children are both so cute, Jameson said, smiling.

“Hah. Thanks. Quentin takes more after his mother, y’know. He has her hair exactly.”

The kids walked up to the boathouse door, and the moment they were inside Quentin shouted, “DAD!” and tackled Chase in a hug.

“Whoa!” Chase pretended to stumble back from the force of the hug, then laughed and leaned down to hug his son. “Hey, Quen. Wow, you’ve gotten so much bigger and stronger.”

“Really?!” Quentin beamed. He looked over at Jameson. “Hi! Bellie says your name is Jameson and you speak in hands. Is that true?!”

Jameson chuckled silently and nodded. Can you understand me?

“Uh... I think you asked if I know handspeak, and I mean, a little. Bellie is better at it.”

“That’s me.” Amabel raised her hand.

Thank you, young lady, I did think that’s what he meant.

“Heh.” Amabel grinned.

“I’m so happy to see you, Dad!” Quentin squeezed him tighter.

“I’m so happy to see you, too.” Chase wrapped his arms around Quentin and lifted him into the air, causing him to shriek with delight. He was a bit too big for this to be easy, but Chase didn’t care, if he could make it work he would. “Now, did Amabel tell you that I’m not staying forever?”

Quentin nodded. “She said you were really busy and that you couldn’t talk about it because it’s secret, even from Mom. Is that why Mom is mad at you? Because she doesn’t like secrets?”

“...hah.” Chase gave a sad little smile. “Your Mom doesn’t even know about the secret. She thinks that I left you guys because I wanted to. But I didn’t.” He blinked back tears. “I promise, I didn’t want to leave you guys. I’ve been trying to find you for a long time.”

“Why can’t we come with you?” Quentin asked, whining a little.

“Because this is grown-up stuff, Quentin. It’s no place for someone like you.”

“Because I’m too sick all the time?” Quentin grumbled.

“No, that’s not it at all.” Chase shook his head. “I’m not letting Amabel come, either. The problem is that you’re both too little. It’s not something shallow like you getting sick. I’ve told you, that doesn’t change what you can want to do.”

“Hmmm.” Quentin frowned, a thoughtful expression on his little face, then nodded. “Okaaaay... I get it. But I really miss you, Dad.”

“I know, I miss you so much, too.” Chase looked at Amabel. “Both of you.” Then he set Quentin down. “I have to leave soon, you know. It might be really sudden. I might not have the chance to say goodbye. Do you two know that?”

Amabel nodded slowly. Quentin looked at her and nodded as well. But maybe he was just copying what she did.

“If that happens, it’s not because I don’t love you two, or your mom,” Chase continued. “It’s not because I don’t want to be around you or because I don’t miss you or because I’d rather be doing something else. It’s just... really unlucky that I had to leave and couldn’t say bye. This thing I’m doing is important. Not more important than you, in my mind, but it’s very important to a lot of people. And it’ll help you guys, too, though you might not understand how.”

“Okay, Dad,” Amabel said, nodding again more firmly.

“So... Mom is wrong?” Quentin asked.

Chase hesitated. “Mom isn’t really wrong, she’s just... made a mistake. But that’s okay.”

“Oh.” Quentin nodded along with Amabel again.

Chase laughed a little. “You two look like little chickens with your heads bobbing like that,” he said teasingly.

“Wha—Da-ad!” Amabel put her hands on her hips, while Quentin giggled at the image. “Fine, Dad, I guess I’m not gonna give you this food.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, Amy. It was just a joke.”

Amabel sighed. “I know. Here. We can have breakfast together. Or, I guess it’ll be a snack for us, we already ate.”

The group sat on the wooden floor of the boathouse and ate together. Quentin asked Jameson a lot of questions, and Chase translated Jameson’s handspeak answers when the boy struggled with them. Then, after what felt like a too-short time, Amabel and Quentin got up, said their goodbyes, and Amabel promised to see them again that evening. Chase watched them go, waving, trying not to show his sadness. As soon as they were out of sight, he fully closed the door, sighing.

Everything alright, Chase? Jameson asked.

“It just... gets harder to see them,” Chase said quietly. “Knowing that eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye again. I get this pang of... of grief.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Right here. And it gets stronger every time.”

Jameson looked at him sadly. You know... my father once told me not to borrow grief from the future. I don’t think I understood what he meant until now.

“What did he mean?” Chase asked, confused.

You’re not leaving them yet, Chase, Jameson said. You will, but you’re not leaving them right now. You’ll just hurt yourself thinking about it. And you won’t be able to treasure this time together if you’re hurt.

Chase blinked. Something about that went straight into his core, hitting a ball of something that he didn’t even realize was there. “That... that makes sense,” he whispered. “Thanks, Jameson.”

Jameson smiled. Happy to help in any way.

The rest of the day passed as normal. Chase briefly wandered around a bit, returning by the time Amabel visited in the evening. Then he and Jameson talked about more possibilities of escape. But they were running short on topics, having already talked about this for so long, that they ended up going to bed early. Chase took the first watch. And when it was his time to sleep, he fell asleep right away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the first day of boating up the river, the group of Phantoms had to switch boats. The flatbed boat they’d used for traveling the Moors would be no good on the Muinra Avon. It wouldn’t be able to handle the more intense waves and deeper waters. Instead, they used a boat that looked like a miniature ship, once again borrowing it from a small group of people. They weren’t Phantoms, but they must have been sympathetic to the cause. Or maybe they were paid really well and were smart enough to not ask questions.

Henrik was in a bit of a daze for the whole trip. Not because of his symptoms, for once. It was hard to believe that he and Vsevna were really officially courting. And yet it was true. Something that Vsevna reminded him of on the morning of the fourth day of the trip by sneaking up on him and kissing him on the cheek. “Morning, sova.”

“Ah!” Henrik’s face turned very red. “Morning, Vsevna.” He couldn’t help the smile spreading across his mouth. “I, ah, I-I hear that we will be arriving at Suilthair today.”

“In the evening, yes.” Vsevna nodded. “We will have to talk about what to do there some more. But for now, we can enjoy the journey.”

“Indeed.” Henrik hesitated, then reached out and took Vsevna’s hand. “Do you want to show me around the new boat?”

Vsevna’s eye lit up. “Of course.”

The scenery passed surprisingly quickly, even though they were heading the opposite direction of the current. One of the sailors, Talinir, mentioned something about having a favorable wind. Jackie and Marvin spent most of their time on the deck, with Jackie continuing the training he was doing on the ship. Marvin just sat around, watching the sailors. Jackie tried to tease him for a moment about how he was watching one of the sailors, Mona, quite a lot, but Marvin just muttered something about how he had a cat mask first and how it just looked strange when two people whose names started with the M sound had the same kind of mask. “We look like we’re a pair, but I’ve never seen her before.” So Jackie shrugged that off, a bit sad that he couldn’t tease both his friends for having sweethearts.

Around late afternoon, the boat stopped for a moment, lowering its anchor. The Phantoms gathered in the center of the deck to discuss a plan. “I mentioned this a couple days ago,” Marvin said, “but I have the ability to see through my familiar’s eyes.” He pointed to Draco, lying in a patch of sunlight on the deck. “I think we need to use this somehow.”

“A way to scout the city?” one of the sailors, Jiro, suggested. The others murmured in agreement.

“Great idea, but how are we going to get Draco into Suilthair?” Jackie asked. “Can he just... find his way?”

“It is easy for small animals like cats and rats to get on ships without knowing,” Vsevna said. “I’m sure Draco could get onto the ferry easily enough.”

“Once he is in there, what are we going to look for?” Henrik asked. “Obviously we must find Chase and Jameson. But it is a big city, how will we know where to look? I do not think a cat could cover all of its ground in a single day.”

Marvin nodded slowly. “It doesn’t cost too much of my magic to look through his eyes. But if I keep it up consistently, that constant drain could stack up. But if you’re worried about leaving Draco alone in the city, I’m sure he’ll be fine. Familiars aren’t normal animals. I’m sure the only danger to him would be other familiars.”

“Even so... we cannot have you focusing on that all the time,” Henrik said. “You must rest sometimes.”

“What if we send Draco on one of the morning ferries, have him look around all day, and then come back on an evening ferry?” a sailor named Anya suggested. “That way Marvin could get some rest at night.”

Marvin nodded again. “I’m capable of that. But say that Draco finds Chase or Jameson. What then?”

“We have to have some way of communicating with them,” Jackie muttered. “Attach a note to his collar?”

“We don’t want any of the warriors reading it, though,” a sailor named Catherine points out. “D’you think we could write it in code?”

“I do not think that would work,” Henrik muttered. “Chase struggles with reading even now, and Jameson does not know any of our codes. They could both make mistakes.”

“Is there some magic that could work?” Jackie looked at Marvin specifically as he asked that.

“Wizards have ways of talking with each other over long distances, but it requires that all parties are wizards,” Marvin said. “I’m sure there’s some witchcraft that could work, though. I think I remember hearing about people in Drakild, that kingdom across the sea, using... stones, or something?”

“Message rocks,” Vsevna said. “I have also heard of them. I think I remember some of the runes you need for them.”

“Huh. Alright, Vsevna, you and me talk about this, maybe we can figure out the runes between us,” Marvin said. “And Henrik, you too. You’re familiar with witchcraft, you should be able to tell us if something makes sense or not.”

“That could work,” Henrik muttered. “We attach a message rock to Draco’s collar, and if he finds Chase and Jameson, they can use it. But... what if he does not find them? What if something has happened? Such as... I-I do not want to say it, but such as the King getting to them—”

“Shut up.”

Henrik flinched, avoiding the urge to look over his shoulder at the voice. He knew no one was standing behind him. He knew that. But... what if... what if there was someone on the shore? Someone listening in on their conversation?

Jackie put a hand on Henrik’s shoulder, steadying him. “Deep breaths,” he whispered. Henrik nodded. “You good?” Another nod. “Okay.” Jackie turned to face the group at large. “If the King’s got Chase and Jameson, we’ll have to make a plan to get them out. And that plan will depend a lot on whatever information we can gather. Such as where they’re being kept and what the defenses of that place is. Right now, we’re just in the initial planning and scouting phase. If it turns out they’re in hiding, we then have to plan on a way to get them out of the city, ideally without confrontation.”

The group all muttered in agreement. “We should get started as soon as possible,” Vsevna said. “Hopefully we can get these message rocks done in time to get Draco onto the evening ferry.”

They did, though just barely in time. By combining Vsevna and Marvin’s knowledge they’d heard about these message rocks with Henrik’s practical knowledge about witchcraft, they were able to create two talismans out of smooth, white pebbles with runes on them. Some of the sailors fashioned a small leather pouch for one of the rocks and attached it to Draco’s collar. He didn’t seem too happy about it at first, but he tolerated it.

Then the boat docked on the shore of the Green Lake. Marvin dropped Draco off on the land, giving him magical instructions to get onto the ferry and into the city, then activated the spell to see through his eyes, sitting down on the deck while he did so.

As Vsevna had said, it was easy enough for Draco to get onto the evening ferry. He hopped aboard at the last moment, and none of the crew or passengers had the heart to kick him off into the lake. And so, he got a free ride into Suilthair.

Marvin tried to think about where Chase and Jameson would be, if they were indeed in hiding and not captured. They wouldn’t be foolish enough to get an inn. And they probably wouldn’t want to be too close to the castle. “The neighborhoods, Draco,” he muttered, clutching his focus in his hand. Though his eyes and ears were seeing and hearing what his cat was, he could still feel his body sitting on the deck where he left it, and he could feel his amulet warming with magic. “Focus on checking out the neighborhoods.”

He knew he could keep up this spell all night. But he did hope that he wouldn’t have to keep it up for multiple nights in a row.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For once, when Chase woke up in the draísling, he wasn't in the garden he’s used to. It really threw him off for a second, and he wondered if this is a normal dream. But just thinking that question proved his point. He wasn’t this aware in normal dreams. So he looked around the location, trying to assess things. This was a hallway. A regal-looking hallway. It must have been one in the castle, but it looks different. Newer, somehow, the stone brighter and the tapestries fewer, but less worn. He tried getting a good look at them, but their images seemed to shift. The hallway ended in a pair of grand wooden doors, looking too heavy for a single person to open. It’s lucky that they were already open, then. And in front of them stood the deer.

Chase tried to ask what happened, why things had changed. But his voice wouldn’t work. Even so, the deer dipped its head, like it knew what he was asking. It turned around, facing the open doors, lowering its head and pointing forward with those golden antlers. Chase understood. He walked forward, past the deer, and into the room beyond.

He’d never seen this room before, but he knew what it was the moment he walked in. The castle’s throne room. Tall stone pillars lined the way down the long room, and a green carpet guided people towards the dais at the end of the room. Candles in sconces dotted every surface, making up for the lack of windows. The throne room didn’t have windows? That made sense, you wouldn’t want an assassin to shoot an arrow through a window, but still, even with all the candles lighting things up, the room looked... smaller than he expected. Windows would have helped.

At the end of the room was a dais shaped like a half-circle, with two steps leading up to it, covered in that green carpet. On the dais was a throne. It wasn’t gilt in gold or silver like thrones in stories. It was made of wood. But that didn’t mean it was any less grand. The whole thing somehow seemed to swirl, the wood carved into a willowy shape. Green velvet cushioned the seats, arms, and back. At the very top of the throne were three embedded jewels—two green with a blue one in between them—teardrop shaped with the points at the bottom, forming an overall shape like a budding flower.

A man was sitting on the throne. Jack. Chase recognized him, and tried not to shudder upon seeing the King’s face. Jack looked the same as he had for that brief moment in the last dream when Chase had seen him. Fine clothes that were now torn and bloodstained, chains wrapping around him. A manacle around each wrist connected to the throne’s armrests, and a thin metal collar around his neck connected him to the back of the throne. He was sitting slumped in the throne, but as Chase got closer, he raised his head. His blue eyes widened, shocked. “Y-you... came back...?” he whispered.

Chase walked up, stopping at the bottom of the dais. “Y-yea, of course I did,” he said. “I don’t really control the dreams.”

“You didn’t have to come into the room, though. You could’ve waited outside.”

“...I wouldn’t do that,” Chase said. He looked around the room again. “So... this is different.”

Jack laughed. “Yes. The nightmares change every so often. Just when I start getting used to it. I’m guessing it was deliberate this time, though. After all, you broke me out. I couldn’t be allowed to stay out.”

“...the spirit does this, doesn’t it?” Chase asked.

Jack blinked, surprised. “You... figured it out?”

“I did.” Chase nodded. “We found proof that the King’s eyes were blue as a child, but they’re green now. That’s not normal. Something has to cause that. And you’ve said you were imprisoned by the King. Well... I can’t think of a worse prison than being trapped in your own body.”

Jack slumped again, looking almost relieved. “I thought... you wouldn’t believe me if I told you...” he breathed.

“Maybe not,” Chase said. “But then... what would be the point of me having these dreams? I’m pretty sure that—Oh, I shouldn’t say too much, should I?” He glanced around.

“Probably not,” Jack said. “The spirit hears everything.”

“Well... I’ll say that I’m pretty sure something is giving me these dreams,” Chase said. “And if this was... a trap of some sort, and you were actually lying to me this whole time, what would be the point of that? Do you understand?”

Jack nodded. “I do.” He took a deep breath and adjusted his hands in his lap, the motion accompanied by the sound of clinking metal. “So. Y-you know the truth now. I’m... My name is Aodhán Jack Willeim mak Lough, King of Glasúil. I-it’s a mouthful, honestly, I know. I prefer to just go by Jack. My friends called me that.”

Chase walked up the steps onto the dais. He wanted to be level with Jack... but found that impossible. While on the floor, he was too far down, and while on the dais, he was too far up, and Jack couldn’t stand so they could look each other in the eyes. This fact made him distinctly uncomfortable. So he knelt down on the dais. He was still a bit shorter when that happened, but it was the closest their eyes could be. “How did this... Y-you weren’t always possessed,” Chase said. “When did the spirit show up? Did you... somehow attract its attention?”

Jack sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t think so. I think, perhaps, it was just looking for the right person. And I was perfect.”

“How long has this been going on?” Chase asked.

“...Seven years or so,” Jack said quietly.

“That long?!” Chase cried.

“I only had one year as King before it fully took over,” Jack said. “You know, I always thought it was suspicious. Both of my parents getting sick with some mystery illness, and no one else in the castle being infected no matter how close in contact they were with the King and Queen? I thought someone had killed them. Poisoned them, maybe, with something that worked quickly but not too quickly. And I knew I would be the first suspect. That people who didn’t know me would think I...” He swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I don’t... remember any suspicion about your parents’ deaths,” Chase said slowly. “Or your rise to the throne.”

“It was there. Either it was only the nobles who thought it, or the spirit used my power to make everyone forget about that once it took over.”—

“So... the spirit killed the old King and Queen,” Chase whispered.

Jack nodded.

“I didn’t know possessive spirits could do that.”

Jack laughed darkly. “I don’t think this is just any old spiolash that wanders the countryside. He’s... very powerful.”

“Seems so,” Chase muttered. “What... what happened after their deaths? If you’re okay with talking about that?”

“It’s fine, I’ve had enough time to think about it,” Jack said. “Things went... I won’t say things went well, but they were... normal. Being the King was difficult, especially when some of my advisors thought I’d poisoned my parents, but things proceeded how you’d expect them to. Until... I started seeing things.”

“...Things?” Chase asked hesitantly.

“In the dark, usually,” Jack said in a hushed voice. “When I was trying to sleep. A figure in the shadows. I thought it was just sleep freezing—have you heard of that? When you wake up and can’t move and sometimes see fucking terrifying things? I thought it was that. Until I started seeing these shadowy figures during the day, too.”

“Did you think it was a false world curse?” Chase asked.

“I considered it. I got desperate enough to consult with a doctor about it—which did not help my reputation when people found out. But they said I didn’t have any of the other symptoms, so it might’ve been something else.” Jack shook his head. “I couldn’t sleep. When I did, I sometimes woke up in strange places. My nose started to bleed, rarely at first, then as often as once every week. My eyes bled occasionally, too. I tried talking to wizards about it. Maybe this was some sort of curse. But... when I tried to ask, my voice froze up. I couldn’t even imply it subtly. A-and eventually, I wasn’t able to even walk towards a wizard to talk with them. My legs wouldn’t work.”

“That was the spirit stopping you.” Chase meant it as a question, but it didn’t come out as one. Probably because he knew the answer.

“Yes,” Jack whispered. “I-it got worse and worse. I started having nightmares. I started walking in different directions than I meant and it’d be a chore to correct myself. Said... unkind things to people. Couldn’t apologize. Started using my powers in ways I never wanted to. I-I promised I’d never control people. Th-there was an incident when I was little where I would make all the kids around me happy... it creeped me out. And afterwards, when the kids remembered, they wouldn’t talk to me. So, ever since then, I-I promised I wouldn’t do it, even if I thought it’d be good. But... I was... against my will, I was... making people think things. And making them forget things.” He shuddered. “One night, I had a terrible dream. A man with green eyes was chasing me through a dead forest, and he caught me, and pushed me into this little opening at the base of an oak tree and shoveled dirt in front, trapping me. Then, when I woke up, I couldn’t move. My body was doing things without me. I couldn’t... do anything. And ever since then... this has been my life.”—

Chase was quiet. He didn’t know what to say to that. What could ever be good enough for that? Words didn’t seem enough. So he leaned forward and wrapped Jack in a tight hug. He felt him tense for a moment before he absolutely melted into it. “We’re going to get you out of here,” he said. “I swear it, we will find a way to banish this spirit. You will be free again.”

Jack’s breath hitched. “That’d be nice,” he said, his voice thick as he tried not to cry.

“I swear it,” Chase repeated. “I swear it thrice.”

“O-oh. You’re... that serious about it?”

“Of course I am. I can’t leave you to suffer like this.” Chase leaned back. “Not to mention, it’ll really help the kingdom if it wasn’t being headed by an evil spirit.”

Jack laughed. “It would. I was so worried about being a good King once I was coronated, but now that I’ve seen fucking this, I know I won’t be the worst one out there.”

“Not by a stone’s throw.” Chase shook his head. “Maybe I’ll see you in these dreams again. I hope I do.”

“I hope I see you again, too,” Jack whispered. “I hope that the next time you see me, you’re able to see... me. And not that spirit.”

Chase nodded. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“Thank you.” Tears welled in Jack’s eyes. “Thank you so much.”

And then the draísling faded away and Chase woke up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jameson was finding more and more that he hated keeping watch at night. It was boring. So, so, so, so boring. He didn’t have anything to read—not that there was enough light to read even if he did—and no one was awake to play games with or talk to. And since they were trying not to attract attention, he couldn’t very well get up and wander around. So he was left just sitting there. In the dark. His mind tended to drift off, getting lost in his own thoughts.

But he forced himself back to the present. He had to check regularly if there was anyone nearby. He inched over to the door and eased it open, peering out. No, nobody in sight. It was getting close to early morning now, and people would already be getting up and going to work elsewhere in the city, but not here.

And then he saw it. Something moving. Small, and pale against the darkness of the city. He stiffened, leaning forward. Oh. That was a stray cat. But... there were no stray animals in Suilthair. At least not out in the floating neighborhoods. They were liable to fall off the wooden walkways. And yet...

Jameson glanced back at Chase, still sleeping. Then he got up and slowly, anxiously, walked out the door. He crept closer to the cat, glancing around nervously as he did so. It heard him eventually, and stopped, turning to look at him. He stared at it, not wanting to scare it away.

But he didn’t have to worry about that. The cat turned and pranced straight towards him. And suddenly, he recognized it. Jameson gasped and hurried forward. Yes! Yes! It’s Draco! Relieved, he crouched down to the ground and held his hand out for Draco to sniff. Draco did. And once it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere, Jameson hurriedly scooped him up and went back to the boathouse.

Draco wriggled out of his arms soon after he walked back in, landing on the wooden planks with a solid thump. Jameson went over to Chase and shook him until he woke.

Chase opened his eyes, momentarily confused, then looked back at Jameson. He took in the darkness of the boathouse—barely enough to see by—and sat up straight. “Did they find us?!” he whispered.

Jameson shook his head. He pointed back towards Draco.

Chase blinked. “...elders,” he breathed. Then he laughed. “Oh, thank the Elders. H-he found us! Marvin has to be nearby, right?” He crawled a bit closer, petting Draco’s head. “Huh. Did you notice this?” He pointed out a small leather pouch attached to Draco’s collar.

Jameson shook his head. Open it, maybe there’s something inside. A message, even.

“Okay. Hold still, kitty.” Chase reached forward and carefully took out what was in the pouch. “It’s a stone. With... runes on it.”

A talisman? Jameson asked.

“Must be.”

And then, suddenly, a voice came from the rock. “Chase? Jair? Is that really you?!”

“Whoa!” Chase fumbled with the rock and almost dropped it before recovering his grip. “Marvin?”

“It’s me!” Marvin’s voice said, and laughed. “I-it’s so good to see you! I’m watching you through Draco’s eyes right now.”

The rock? Jameson asked.

“Some witchcraft Vsevna suggested. You have to hold it in your hand and speak directly into it. It’s so good to see you two. It really is. I-I didn’t mean to leave, but—well it’s a bit complicated. I can tell you all about it later. Right now, I have to let you know that a whole squad of us have come here to find you.”

“A whole squad?” Chase gasped. “Who?”

“Me, Jackie, Schneep, and Vsevna and some of his crew. Oh, I realize neither of you have met Vsevna and his crew. But they’re very reliable.”

“O-okay,” Chase nodded. “What about Wyvernlair? Did they get our warning?”

“They did,” Marvin confirmed. “But there was still a bit of a scuffle. I’m not sure... I’m not sure how many people were lost. B-but most of them are fine. There’s a new camp. I-I don’t think I should tell you about it, just in case.”

That’s reasonable, Jameson said.

“Are you guys coming to get us out?” Chase asked. “We’re—we’ve been stuck in here. Jameson was caught by the King, I-I got him out of there, but—but we’ve been hiding, and there are no ways out of the city that we can find—”

“It’ll be alright, Chase, I promise,” Marvin interrupted. “Jair? Did you... really get...?”

Jameson nodded.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Marvin said quietly. “L-look, I should probably go, get everyone else awake so we can talk about things together. Keep a hold of the rock. And Draco, though I’m sure he can look after himself.” Draco curled up on the floor as he said that, looking about ready to go to sleep.

“That’s fine,” Chase said. “Um, how long will that take? To gather everyone up?”

“I don’t know, probably not that long. There’s not that many of us. I’m going now.”

“No, wait, one thing we need to tell you!” Chase hurried to add. “Before anything else. W-we learned something big about the King.”

Jameson looked at Chase. Are you sure it’s a good idea to share this? What if this is a trick?

“The King already knows we know this, so he won’t be gaining anything if it’s a trick,” Chase said.

“What is it?” Marvin asked.

“The King isn’t really the King,” Chase said. “He’s being possessed. That voice, that person in my dreams, that’s the real King. His body is being controlled by a spirit.”

Silence. “...if that’s true...” Marvin whispered. “Holy flame, I... I’m not sure how to... W-we’ll be back soon, alright?”

Chase nodded. “Alright. We’ll be waiting.”

“Thank you.”

And though Chase and Jameson stayed quiet, no more words came from the rock. Chase looked at Jameson. “Do you really think it’s a trick?” he asked.

I hope not, Jameson said.

“Yea. I hope not, too.”

For the first time in days, they had a direction. And Chase, after the draísling he just had, felt that he had a purpose, as well. Or a more solid purpose than he did before. He was going to help his family, and the whole kingdom, and Jack. It was a tall order, but he would do it. He could do it.

For the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful about the future.

[foxytoxx]

Caught between the Devil and the hag's lair (Astarion x Fem!Durge fanfic)

Words: 4k

Read on AO3

Summary: During a rescue mission, Morella is caught off guard by her vow to Haarleep.

TW: Canon-typical violence, ACT 3 HAG QUEST SPOILERS!!!, Dubious Consent, Fingering, Someone's about to have a really bad day...

A/N: Thank you all so much for the kudos, loves and reblogs both here and on AO3! Hope you enjoy this story!

❤️❤️❤️

It was early morning, and the Lower City was slowly waking. There was a faint buzz in the air. Vendors were opening shops and the smell of freshly baked goods was mixing in with the salty sea mist. Morella stifled a yawn not wanting to give away any sign of perceived regret. She had been the one alongside Karlach who had demanded they start the day’s search at the break of dawn. Shadowheart and Astarion had not been as enthusiastic about it, but quickly came to terms with their leader’s steadfast attitude. 

As the sun fully rose from water the group could see the forepeak of The Blushing Mermaid. They had been following a trail from the previous day looking for a missing girl, Vanra. Her mother, Lora, had made quite the scene at the Flaming Fist barracks. It was enough to attract the attention of their merry band of misfits during one of Astarion’s many successful prison breaks.

Morella had picked up a habit of helping strays along the way since the Nautiloid crash. At first it had annoyed Astarion to no end. But after the revelation of her heritage he had realised it might be her way of compensating for the bloody carnage she no doubt caused in her father’s name while she was still under his spell. He couldn't help but secretly admire her for it.

Karlach was the first to break the group’s silence.

 “You can’t help but question Lora’s parental wisdom for bringing the girl to this tavern of all places.”

“You never know what wretched creatures skulk around these parts…” Astarion’s answer sounded acrid. Almost as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Morella glanced over at him. He had a sadness in his eyes, but was quick to bring his usual mask into place. After his unexpected reunion with Sebastian he had seemed off whenever the group entered old hunting grounds. She recognized it for what it was, guilt. They had all come to realise how little say he had in it all, but it stung nonetheless.

“Come on, we’ve got a job to do.” Morella walked towards the establishment with the others following closely after. As they were about to enter the building Morella was stopped dead in her tracks. 

“You alright, soldier?” Karlach rested a warm hand on her shoulder. 

“Huh? Oh yes, yes. I’m fine. How about you and Shadowheart go on in and we’ll be right with you.” Morella was fighting with every fibre of her body to keep her voice straight. Shadowheart threw a quick glance between her and Astarion, who looked just as confused as the two others. 

“Don’t you two love birds make a scene, please.” Shadowheart groaned, as she hooked her arm with Karlach and pulled her into the tavern. 

Morella could practically feel Astarion’s inquisitive crimson eyes scan her for answers. But it was not the only thing she could feel trailing over her body. Hands, fingers and claws danced over her being. Yet no one was touching her. A warm breath caressed her neck and ears. She couldn’t help but shudder. A growing blush flushed her face and ears. Morella set her jaw and quickly sat down on the closest bench. She tried to bite back a sigh of pleasure as invisible hands cupped her breasts under her armour. Haarlep’s words sang through her head with no remorse.

Everytime I make love in your shape, you will know. You will know…

She opened her eyes only to be met by Astarion kneeling in front of her with a concerned look on his face. “I heard that moan. It’s the incubus isn’t it? Enjoying your body. Just as I get free from bondage, you fall into it.” He let out a deep sigh. “It’d be funny if it was anyone but you, my love. I know what it’s like to lose control over your own body. It’s a… wretched thing.” He hovered a reassuring hand over her thigh and she lifted slightly to meet it.

“It’s not so bad. I can put up with it.” She whispered as she collected herself. 

“That’s not the point. You shouldn’t have to put up with it.” he spat out the last words like acid before taking a deep breath. The ghost touches seemed to subside and she let out a relieved sigh, which seemed to put him at ease as well.

“I know what’s done is done, you made your vow, but I’m sorry all the same.” His hand moved from her thigh and up to cup her cheek. She used his cold touch to completely ground herself back in the now.

“You ready? Or would you sit this one out, my sweet?” Morella shot up in shock. She had probably knocked him over had it not been for his uncanny dodge. 

“I’m sure Karlach has enough fire in her for the four of us, and Shadowheart-”

“No.” Morella cut him off sharply. “I’m coming with, and there is nothing you can say or do to stop me.” Her golden, blue eyes seemed to spark with an unlit fire he loved so much.

He let out a sigh before rising to his feet.

“I realised there is no stopping you long ago, my dear. Let’s just hope this stubbornness of yours won’t get you killed…” A sly smirk danced on his lips, and she couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him briefly. With a mirth she turned on her heels entering the tavern.

“If I get close to death, I know I’ll always have you and your daggers close by my back.”

A low growl of indignation rose from his throat. All he could do was puff up his chest under the spidersilk armour.

“Honestly, the youth these days…”

-------

Initially there hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary inside the dimly lit establishment. The local grumpy drunks had already gathered at their self proclaimed seats of ownership. Whether they had just arrived or never left was a question Morella figured best unanswered directly. However their smell stated the obvious. 

Astarion was leaned over a middle aged man who had planted his face on the floor by the staircase in a drunken stupor. Morella stood by eyeing the other patrons while his nimble hands searched the sleeping man for valuables.

“Oh, my…” Astarion pulled a sickle out from under the man’s tethered jacket. Their eyes locked for a quick moment before she stooped down to his level, eyes locked on the weapon in his hand. It was an old blade, chipped in some places, and the handle was of simple wood. 

“Is it just me, or is there something familiar about this?” She looked over to him again as his eyes scanned the blade. Astarion quickly stowed the weapon with another glance at the drunken crowd. 

“It’s not just you my dear. We’ve run into this crowd before. Or parts of it at least.”. He rose to his feet and stretched out a hand to her. She took it, and rose with grace.

“The swamps.” The word was no more than whisper when it escaped her lips.

“I have a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t a mere coincidence we ran into a group of hag-survivors… We should have a word with the captain of this forsaken ship.” His eyes trailed over her shoulder into the room behind her where Karlach and Shadowheart were already questioning the hungover owner of the establishment, Captain Grisly. 

“Ugh, enough with these questions already. I’ve got enough of a bleedn’ headache as it is. I’ve already told you the truth.” The woman swayed where she stood as she took a generous swig at a bottle in her hand.

“A child can’t just up and dissipate into thin air. Someone must have seen something.” Shadowheart was getting frustrated with the lack of answers from everyone in the building and it was starting to become obvious.

Morella and Astarion took their places by their companions’ side. Karlach had folded her hands tightly, and Morella could see the building frustration in her too.

Captain Grisly eyed the quad of ragtag characters, before letting out a deep sigh.

“Look, I didn’t want to have to say this. But Lora is a liar, sort of. You see the child she is missing, never existed. It was something she had dreamed up in her usual drunken state. Poor woman really…” Grisly hung her head for a quick moment.

Astarion pulled the sickle out and held it up to Captain Grisly. And it was as if the air itself became putrid and even electrified in a split second. 

“Game’s up, hag.” The words were nothing but a snare from his lips.

“Oh, bullocks.” The bottle she had held in her hand clattered to the floor. The sound was almost deafening in the sudden pressing silence. The captain’s body contorted into a dark, green, rotten cloud.

Morella turned to notice the unsuspecting patrons had gotten up and were contorting into smoke themselves. 

“Boys! Deal with these sacks of shite!” A chilling, blood curdling laugh erupted out of the smoke that had been Grisly. The air was quickly cut by Karlach’s greataxe as she tried to cleave at the hag to no avail. The hag-smoke shot down a flight of stairs into the basement, leaving the group at the mercy of the redcaps stepping out of the skin of the patrons.

The group drew their weapons and readied themselves for the stalking, grunting fey.

“Hells! The hag! How did you figure that out!?” Shadowheart blurted out in a surprised breath.

“Really, now!? You want to discuss this now!” The words came out of Astarion as a growl as he seemed to vaporise into the dark shadows in the back of the room. 

Morella, ever the tactician, assessed the situation and came up with a quick plan of action.

“Shadowheart pull back with me! Karlach, I need you up by the archway, but not too close!” She threw a quick glance over her shoulder to where Astarion had been, but she was unable to locate him. He knew her game plan after countless battles and didn’t need orders to find his place in the shadows.

With a crack of magic Morella conjured a cloud of daggers swirling in the archway into their room. Though the redcaps were small, they were stubborn in their resolve to cut the group down. They trickled in through the daggers, only to be met by damning strikes of Karlach’s greataxe, shadow veiled arrows from Astarion and spells from Shadowheart and Morella. 

Slowly the bodies would pile up by their feet. But in the chaos of combat a redcap broke through their defences and kicked Morella into the wall behind her. The force knocked the air right out of her and she lost her concentration of her cloud of daggers. Shadowheart made quick work of the little bugger with her mace. The distraction was enough for the last redcap to sneak up behind Karlach without the spellcasters noticing. She screamed out in pain as the little monster buried its sickle in the tiefling’s leg. She lost balance and was about to crash to the floor. The redcap was about to lift its leg to give Karlack a juicy kick, but was abruptly interrupted by a sussur dagger making itself at home in its skull. The fey froze up, shuddered and collapsed to the ground. And with that they had conquered yet another battleground. 

Shadowheart and Morella rushed over to help Karlach. 

“I’m sorry, Karlach. This isn’t going to be comfortable…” Shadowheart gripped the sickle and quickly pulled it out. The tiefling woman let out a pained grunt, followed by a sigh of relief when the half-elf called upon her healing magic. Astarion pulled his dagger out of the dead redcap’s skull and wiped it clean. 

It didn’t take long for Karlach to shade the blow off and get back on her feet, carefully testing her weight on the freshly healed leg. 

“Right, Astarion, is now a good time?” Shadowheart locked her eyes on him as she rose. 

He scuffed under her gaze.

“I believe our dear, old Auntie is back again. We need to move quickly.” 

-------

The basement was as they had expected. Dark and damp. Shadowheart had pointed out a wall that had almost a weird shimmer about it. Stepping through the hidden pathway brought them into a large room that could not have been anything but the hag’s lair. It looked like someone had built the basement on top of a swampland. Their senses were very soon assaulted by the stench of rot and decay, causing the elves and half-elf all to take a step back. Karlach couldn’t help but snicker at their visceral reaction. 

Morella felt a barely noticeable tingle trailing down her spine, but pushed it out of her mind.

Astarion suddenly threw himself into a crouch, signalling the others to follow his example. That’s when they heard what he had picked up on. Voices. The vampire walked up ahead of the others to scout out the situation. Carefully Morella led the two others up close to him. There were four masked figures in the room with them, but they seemed oblivious to their company.

“Blasted, hag…” Morella spat out from gritted teeth.

Astarion assessed the room, noticing a closed door behind them. “We might not have to worry about these poor wretches. They are probably under the hag’s spell like the people we found under Ethel’s house.” He rested a hand on her shoulder and gave her a quick squeeze. They quietly turned to the door, where Astarion would make quick work of the lock and they pushed through. 

“There you are, petal.” The vile, hunched figure of the hag was enough to make their skin crawl. Her putrid green skin was stretched thin over a big bulge in her stomach, which seemed to move every now and then.

“Let the child go, Ethel! What is it you even want with her?” Morella’s voice was steady, yet dripping with unspoken threats. 

“Careful petal, you don’t want to be acting the maggot with me now. But I think I will keep ‘er right where she is.” The hag snickered, and bore her icy cold eyes into Morella. 

“Soon enough I will have a little young hag to bring up.” Her snicker grew to a hair-raising laugh. “But, breaking you will be great craic.”

Morella stepped forward, but was swiftly stopped in her tracks by a warm, strong tug at her shoulder.

“Careful, Soldier. You kill the hag, you kill the kid.” Morella glanced over her shoulder to Karlach, and gritted her teeth. She turned back to the revolting fey they were faced with yet again.

The room didn’t allow for the group to reuse the same battle plan that had slaughtered the redcaps. They needed something else entirely. “Karlach and Shadowheart, I need you two up with her. Astarion, you will stay back with me.” They confirmed her orders with subtle nods. Karlach jumped up next to the hag and delivered a bone breaking punch to the fey. Shadowheart was swiftly moving up to the two of them, radiating spirit guardians already swirling around her. 

Astarion and Morella placed themselves close to the centre of the room, up a small flight of stairs. His longbow was drawn taut at the ready for what to come, while she called upon the weave in her blood.

As they expected the had seemed to multiply shooting off into four new copies of herself. Astarion had suspected this would happen, and pinched an arrow of many targets on his bowstring. He elegantly spun around and shot the arrow into one of the hags that had appeared behind them. The arrow bounced between the hag and shot into another hag before repeating the motion onto a third. The two first hags dissipated into thin air.

After shaking off the blow the hag cackled and lashed her clawed hand at Shadowheart. The silver haired half-elf barely had time to react. She fell to her knees with a gasp. Morella tried to rush to her, but her feet wouldn’t obey. Another chilling tingle travelled down her spine and she was completely frozen in place. Then it started again. The hands, ghosting over her flesh, caressing, stroking, grabbing, pulling… Morella closed her eyes and tried to violently shake off the feeling.

No, not now!

She looked up, Shadowheart had gotten up again. She seemed fairly unscathed other than a gushing gash in her left forearm. She roared as she lifted the brightly lit Blood of Lathandriel over her head to give the hag a taste of her own medicine.

The hands traced along her abdomen, moving slowly down to between her legs. Morella bit down into her lip, hard. Small pearls of blood started to roll over her full lips. 

No. No! NO!

This was the very moment the last hag clone chose to pounce onto her, driving her long claws into Morella’s back. A sharp burning pain in her chest caused her to topple over. Morella tried to force a deep breath, but was unable to. The pain only grew stronger. 

“IGNIS!” 

The clone dissipated in a heatwave, leaving Morella flopping onto the floor in a slowly growing puddle of blood. Strong, physical hands were on her in mere seconds. Astarion tried to lock away the fury and anxiety in a deep dark corner of his mind while he assessed her situation. She tried to say something to him, but it was drowned out by a bloody cough. 

The ghost hand had at this point found her clit and was rubbing it rhythmically. This threw her back into an involuntary arch, which was met with another bout of bloody coughs. Her pale complexion was turning even paler. Her organic eye was getting draped in a distant stare. 

“No, you are not dying on me! Not today, and not like this!” Astarion growled. The deep rooted panic was reaching a boiling point, but he kept calm. A quick glance at Shadowheart made it clear her hands were too full to help. He quickly rummaged through Morella’s pack to fish out a healing potion. Then he saw it. The Hag’s Bane.

He grabbed both vials with haste. 

Morella was shaking in his arms, caught in deep between the bloodloss and the devil's burning clutches. He removed the stopper from the potion and carefully poured the red herbal concoction down her throat. Tossing the empty vial aside, he carefully rubbed her throat to guide the potion down. Then he looked back up to the raging tiefling and the resilient half-elf. They had the hag panting for breath as they beat her down.

“Shadowheart!” She looked over to them in shock. She had been too busy to even notice Morella going down. But she was quickly snapped out of her shock when Astarion tossed her the Hag's Bane. She grabbed the vial and lobbed it at the hag. The glass shattered, shards burrowing deep into the hag's skin. The alchemical blend sizzled like acid, vaporising at the contact with the fey.

“NO! You owe me a young hag you-” Ethel clutched her hand to her stomach, fighting back a gag. “No, Vanra! Stay down… Gugh!” The hag fell to her knees and started retching. Her jaws unhinged as a child around the age of six was forced past her foul lips. The child dropped to the stone floor in a pool of slime and bile, but she seemed to be otherwise fine. 

Shadowheart swooped up the child as Karlach brought her greataxe down to the hag’s writhing body with merciless force. The foe had been slayed, yet again. And hopefully for the last time.

Morella was no longer bleeding out, her wounds closed up for the most part, but her breath was still shallow. Her body was still trembling and her cheeks were flushed deeper than previous. Astarion wiped sweat off her brow, trailing his hand down her neck to try calm her. 

“I've got you, my sweet. You'll get through this.”

He felt a warmth tingle his right side. 

“Is she ok?” Karlach's voice was drenched with concerned. Shadowheart, still holding Vanra, joined them. She hovered her hand over Morella, blue sparkes of healing magic enveloped her body.

“Her lung has been punctured, but other than that she should be fine… I'm all out of magic I'm afraid…”

His lips curled into a snare. He turned to the other women, eyes burning with fury.

“This is the work of the incubus, Haarlep…” He spat out the devil's name as if it was bile. Both Karlach and Shadowheart had been there when Morella had struck the deal with him.

“You tell any of the others-”

“Easy there, mate. That wouldn't be ours to tell.” Karlach rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

A soft whimper of a moan escaped Morella’s lips.

“Has she still got that potion of angelic sleep, Astarion?” He rummaged through the chaos that was Morella’s pack again before pulling out the elegant, golden bottle.

------

Morella came to in her bed at the Elfsong. Her body ached. She tried to get up, but cold, firm hands were quick to take a hold of her shoulders. 

“Easy there, darling. Don't strain yourself.” Her vision slowly dehazed and she was met with a pair of concerned, crimson eyes.

“How did I get here…” 

“I had our dear druid friend help carry you. For all Halsin is worth, he makes an excellent extra set of arms in moments of need.” Astarion gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. He smirked as her cheeks flushed. The three of them had had an eventful night a few weeks back, which had left them all hungry for more.

“How are you feeling?” He handed her a cup of water.

“Like I've been the entertainment at an ogre child's birthday party.” He couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image. She took a sip, but nearly choked on the water as her memory caught up with her. 

“The kid! Vanra, is she-” 

“She is fine. Physically at least.” He smiled at her as he leaned her back against the headboard. 

“I can't imagine being swallowed and reached up by a hag isn't going to be something she'll forget sometime soon. But Shadowheart and Karlach got her safely home to her mother.” He leaned back and brought a stunning rapier which had been leaned up against the wall. 

“Even got this beauty as a little reward from Lora.”

Morella’s eyes teared up. She aimlessly rubbed her hands as guilt was eating away at her.

“I'm sorry, Astarion… I thought I could handle…”

Her words died away to a sob as her hands flew up to her face. 

A weight shifted onto the mattress. The smell of bergamot and rosemary embraced her nose with a promise of love and comfort. Astarion wrapped his arms around her hunched frame. Resting his head on hers, he started rocking her slowly. His right hand started to play softly with her long, silver braid.

“It’s alright, dear.”

He let go of her braid and hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his.

“You said you could ‘put up with it’, maybe you can. And maybe you can't. It doesn't matter. I'll take care of you if you'll let me. But you will not be out there with us if this happens out there again… I can't risk…losing you.” His voice was nothing more than a whisper, but she heard the little break near the end. She had no power over her own voice and could do nothing more than simply nod, burying her face into his chest.

“Who knows, maybe the devil will get bored soon, they can be such fickle creatures. Not that I would of course,  you are simply too divine.” He kissed her head, and they stayed that way the rest of the night.

[blackshadowswriter]

Everyone Knew Except Us

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader Fanfic

AN: Request from @arabianflowers for the good ole rivals/enemies to lovers trope!!! My first Bucky fanfic on here, so let me know what you think! 🖤

REQUESTS FOR BUCKY ARE OPEN!!!

CW: swearing, i guess (half this fic is the reader and Bucky seeing who can insult the other more and the other half is also them being madly in love)

Music blasts in your earbuds as you run on the treadmill, breathing hard as you reach the last few paces of your morning training. Sweat drips down your forehead as you push past the 10 mile mark and slow the treadmill down to a walk as you breathe heavily.

Finally done, you step off the treadmill on jelly legs and plop down on the floor, grabbing your water bottle and taking big gulps. You sit there for a few minutes as your heartbeat slowly comes down from its racing pulse.

You're just starting to cool off when the gym door swings open, and your least favorite person in the team and perhaps the world steps through the door.

Your previously high mood plummets to your feet as Bucky freaking Barnes comes into the training room and pauses when he catches sight of you.

"Oh, you're here" is the first thing that comes out of Barnes's mouth.

He's in a black shirt that wraps so tightly around his muscular frame, it should be a sin. You think you can see his six pack through that shirt. A pair of grey sweatpants hang low on his hips. Of course, the sight of that alone makes your mouth run dry and heat flare in your face, but you dismiss the feeling as dislike for the incredibly hot annoying man in front of you.

You get to your feet and sneer at him. "Yeah, I am, dipshit. Deal with it or leave."

He scoffs. "I'm not leaving. You're not going to be here for long anyways."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't look like you could lift another finger, L/N," Bucky remarks with an arrogant smirk. "Did your 5 second run wear you out that much?"

"If you ran like you did your mouth, you'd be in perfect shape," you snap back.

"I already am, doll," Barnes says, spreading his arms slightly, which tightens his shirt even further around his obviously sculpted physique.

You pretend like that little gesture doesn't nearly make you fall back down. Gritting your teeth, you snarl, "Don't you dare call me that, Barnes."

"Sure, doll," he replies, winking at you. You know he's doing it because you hate it—he's been doing this for as long as you two have known each other (or rather, mutually put up with each other's existence).

"You are the human version of a headache, Asshole Barnes," you grumble.

"That's Sergeant Barnes for you," he corrects.

You roll your eyes as you scoop your things up. "Well, my middle finger salutes you, Sergeant," you say, making sure he can see your finger pointing up at him.

Bucky scoffs as he makes his way to the weight station. He adds several weights to a ridiculously large dumbbell. Of course he's showing off.

"You always act like you don't give a shit, don't you, L/N?" he retorts.

"Who says I'm acting? 'Cause I'm not, you know."

Rolling his eyes, he slides the snap lock onto the dumbbell and tests its weight. As he gives the dumbbell a few curls, you can't help but to stare at his muscles bulging through his shirt. He's hot—there's no denying that fact. But the fact still stands that he's an asshole.

A hot asshole, but an asshole nonetheless.

Then, Bucky looks up, and his gaze catches yours staring at him. Your face flares red, and you quickly avert your eyes, determinedly focusing them on the very interesting wall. Out of the corner of your gaze, you can see Bucky smirking.

"Shut up," you snarl before he can say anything.

"Wasn't going to say anything, doll," Bucky replies, but he still has that incredibly smug smirk on his face.

With a huff, you stand and grab your things, quickly making your way across the gym to the door before you can embarrass yourself further. Bucky's eyes follow you all the way, his gaze burning a hole through you. Thankfully, he makes no comment as you yank the door open and slam it shut behind you.

****************************************************************

Natasha finds you in the kitchen shoveling a bowl of cereal into your mouth.

"Morning, Y/N," she says as she reaches into the fridge for some milk.

"Morning, Nat," you grumble, eating another spoonful.

"Someone's grumpy," Natasha remarks. "What's up?"

You scowl at a soggy Frosted Flake. "The dickhead in the gym is what's up. I can't stand him."

Natasha snickers as she plops down next to you and grabs the box of cereal. "I assume you're talking about Barnes? I ran into him on the way here."

"He's a pain in my ass," you growl, violently scooping up more cereal.

Nat taps her spoon against the side of her bowl in consideration. "Have you ever considered, Y/N, that if the two of you would stop trying to cut each other's throat, you guys would make a great couple?"

You choke on Frosted Flakes. "What? Are you insane, Natasha? He hates my guts, and I loathe his very existence." You goggle at her. "Why the fuck would we be a couple?!"

Fixing you with a really look, Natasha sighs as she pours milk into her bowl. "Do I have to explain? Both of you are obviously into each other—"

You cut her off with a splutter of outrage. "I am not!" you proclaim loudly. "Absolutely not! I'd rather roll in a mud pit and jump in a pool of acid rain before I'd find him hot."

Natasha smirks slowly. "You know, I never said you found him hot."

Your cheeks burn when you realize your mistake. "I mean—well, I assumed—you said that we—Nat!" you complain as the redhead starts laughing.

She shakes her head as she stifles her snickers. "The two of you are more into each other than either of you think. You find him hot, he finds you hot—the two of you really should just cut the chase and kiss already."

You stare at Natasha with wide eyes and your jaw hanging open. "What...why...how would you know he finds me—?"

"The two of you are not subtle," Natasha says, raising an eyebrow at you. "You both go at each other like rabid dogs, biting each other's heads off, and then the next moment you're all heart eyes behind each other's back. Don't think I haven't seen it."

"I'm—I'm not—that's not—"

There's a sly smirk on Natasha's face as she gets up from the chair next to you and takes her bowl to the sink.

"Think about it, Y/N," she says in a sing song voice and saunters out the kitchen, leaving you staring at your soggy cereal, contemplating your entire life choices.

She's wrong, you think. There is absolutely no way she's right. You are not into Barnes, and you definitely don't think he's into you.

That last thought causes a little stab of—what is that, disappointment?—in your heart. You chase it away as fast as you can. You don't care what he thinks. You're glad he doesn't like you! You're repulsed by that very thought.

But are you?

The image of him in that sinfully tight t-shirt lifting in the gym crosses your mind.

Stop.

That time you got distracted on a mission because you were too busy watching Bucky fight in his stupid, sexy way.

No, we don't think about that.

Even the small things he did when he didn't know you were watching: the way his nose would do that adorable scrunch when he laughed at something Steve said, the way he tucked his hair behind his ear as his gorgeous blue eyes sparkled, the way his lips tilted up into his ridiculously hot smirk even when it was mocking you.

Oh my God.

I think I am into him.

You had just come to this horrifying realization when you heard someone clear their throat. Your head snapped up for your gaze to meet two piercing, blue eyes.

You swallowed thickly. The last thing you needed was a confrontation with Bucky right after the ground-breaking revelation you just had.

For once, however, he's not looking at you with irritation or spite on his face. HIs cheeks are a little pink, and his eyes are a little wide as he looks at you. Bucky's standing at the doorway, and his eyes dart to Natasha's retreating back. You suddenly understand.

'Oh God," you groan, leaning forward to cover your face. "Please don't tell me you heard that entire conversation."

Bucky coughs slightly. "I, uh...I didn't mean to."

You sigh loudly. "If you're here to rub it in, you can leave."

He's silent for a few seconds. "Were you...were you telling the truth?" he asks softly.

"What?" you snap.

"That you find me hot."

"No!" you yelp way too fast to be believable as you turn an embarrassing shade of red. "I—absolutely not!"

There's a slow grin crossing Bucky's face. "You do," he concludes.

"No!" you shout, burying your face in your arms. "I do not!"

You hear his soft laughter, and for once it isn't condescending or annoying. It actually sounds kind of sweet. His footsteps come closer to you, and there's the quiet scrap of the chair legs on the floor. You pull your head out of your arms to see Bucky sitting down next to you in the chair Natasha had been in a few moments ago.

Bucky looks at you seriously. It makes you squirm—you hate heart-to-hearts. They make you way too uncomfortable.

"You really like me?" he asks quietly, his face earnest.

You bite your lip nervously. "If I say yes, are you going to laugh in my face and reject me?"

He laughs gently, which is probably the first time he's done anything gentle when it comes to you. "No," he promises.

For some reason, you believe him. "A little, then," you admit.

"Just a little?" Is he teasing you and not actually trying to hurt you?

"I'm not giving you ammunition to hold over my head," you still say stubbornly. "Not until you give me something."

Bucky gives you a soft smile, and he reaches over to slide his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up. "What if I told you I've been hoping to hear that confession for a long time?"

"Really?" you breathe.

"Really," he murmurs. His eyes are really gorgeous up close. This is the closest you've been to him, excluding that time you got up in his face to knee him in the stomach.

"You're beautiful," Bucky says. "And funny too."

"When I insult you?"

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to laugh when you insult me, doll."

The nickname that you've heard him utter so many times to your annoyance makes your face heat up when you realize he's saying it sincerely this time.

"Why did you hate me?" you whisper.

"I don't," Bucky confesses. "I just didn't know how to approach you. I thought you hated me."

You give a little laugh and shake your head. "I hated you because I thought you hated me."

"We both got off on the wrong foot, didn't we?"

You hum in agreement. His bright gaze is fixed on your lips now.

"May I?" he asks quietly.

He's such a gentleman.

You nod breathlessly, and he leans forward, his lips finally meeting yours. You've always secretly thought he'd be a good kisser with those plump lips, and you were right. Bucky kisses you sweet and slow, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. His hands cup your face gently as he holds you against him.

By the time he pulls away, it feels like your brain has melted into your shoes. Bucky's eyes sparkle as he takes in your expression.

A loud ha! comes from the doorway and makes both of you jump. Natasha's standing there with a victorious grin on her face. She points at you and then Bucky.

"I told you! I told you! Haha!" She sprints down the hallway shouting, "Sam! They did it!"

Sam's voice shouts from the gym: "Finally!"

You look back at Bucky. "Did everyone know except us?"

He grins. "I think so, doll."

AN: It's a little on the shorter side, but that's because I rewrote this thing three times with three different versions, so 🤷‍♀️ I hope you liked it!

I'm taking requests for Bucky, so send me all your ideas, I'd love to write them! 😍

If you enjoyed, please remember to leave a like, reblog, and comment. It always helps so much🥰🖤

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