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winterarmyy · 10 months

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Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part III

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 5.2k++ (sorry y'all)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, fluffy stuff, tiny sprinkle of angst, soldat is heartbreakingly adorable until the very end, bucky not being very communicative, self-loathing, confusion, conflicted feelings between guilt and need, two idiots in love who are lost in a miscommunication, excessive use of the word 'fuck', and... what else? I'm not sure either lol.

P/S: This has been truly a journey. Thank you so much for the support y'all have been giving me. I really do appreciate all the comments and dms about my work regardless which one of them. Just wanna remind you that I won't be here without you; that's the degree of importance that you possess. Anyway, enjoy your reading.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

It's only been eight in the morning and the soldat had Y/N trapped between his arms as she focused on sifting the flour for the pancake batter. There were barely any space between them; not when he made sure that her soft plushy butt rests right against his crotch, while his fingers subtly move along her hips.

Those gentle trailings didn't last too long for comfort as he slipped his left hand under her sweatshirt. The soldat let his instinct took control as the metal of his touch draws invisible circles all across her bare stomach, while his lips peppered endless amount of butterfly kisses on the marks from last night; each one was now hidden under layers of color correcter and concealer.

"Wow." A raw sound of astonisment naturally slipped from Sam's lips as he found himself frozen in his spot at the corridor leading to the entrance of the kitchen.

Look at them. Acting like newlyweds on their honeymoon.

For a moment he forgot that the huge cuddly hunk in front of him was the winter soldier and not his fellow comrade.

But then again, it might as well made sense that it was not the Bucky he knew, because that man would've been a puddle of mess if he got the chance to touch Y/N like this.

Sam still remember that night when they had a Harry Potter movie marathon and Y/N ended up falling asleep on Bucky's shoulder. Even in the room that was scarce from light, Sam could clearly see the redness on Bucky's cheeks and ears.

It was an understatement to say that Sam had the best time of his life teasing the shit out of Bucky that night, knowing he can't do anything about it without waking Y/N from her comfy slumber.

"Soldat, please. I need to move around, you know?" Y/N's amused giggle pulled the soldat from his dreamy trance.

He shakes his head in the crook of her neck, snuggling deeper as he took a deep breath of her sweet scent, "No, you don't. You just need to stay here." The soldat huffed as he pouted and tighten his hold on her.

Y/N chuckled at his child-like antics, "You do know that you're not gonna get any breakfast any time soon if you keep doing this, right?"

Sometimes, she couldn't help but wondered if this is how it would feel like to have Bucky doting on her.

"Родная (darling), I'll gladly have you for breakfast. I'm sure I'd have a feast on that sweet little pussy of yours." He whispered seductively into her ears, as he sensed Sam's presence approaching the kitchen.

Y/N briefly fluttered her eyes shut as he purred in her ears, before slightly peel herself off from him, "Soldat." Her voice was stern and her eyes narrowed into a frown.

The soldat gaze down at her with a hazy grin on his lips, "Родная (darling)."

Unknowingly, the one-sided glaring battle began when Y/N refused to break their intense eye contact; each opponent uses a very contrasting approach, where one has a deep frown and a pair of blazing eyes while the other has the softest, droopy stare and literal hearts in his steel blues.

"Move." Y/N instructed as if it was a warning.

The brunnette let out a defeated laugh as he loosen his hold on her, "Okay, okay. Anything for you, sweet one."

"Thank you." She sighed. "Finally" she thought. She was worried that they gonna have breakfast for lunch if he refuses to let her go.

On the other hand, the soldat was unable to sit still on his own, so he continue to follow her around, like a hungry cat rubbing their forehead up their human's leg, mewling for attention.

"Morning, y/n and... her shadow." Sam finally make himself known as he greeted while naturally went to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Sam." she greeted back while the soldat swiftly put himself in between them like a barrier. He shot a menancing glare at Sam as the man was standing 'too close to Y/N' for the soldat's comfort.

Obviously offended, "Dude, calm down. I was just greeting her good morning." His voice raised as he defended himself for his rights, "Tell him y/n" he continued to tattle tail.

In which Y/N responded by patting the back of the soldat's shoulder as a reassurance before asking him to move away.

Let's just say that he begrudgingly agreed to just because it was Y/N's request.

"Unbeliveable." Sam rolled his eyes, "This your friend?" He asked as Steve entered the scene, greeting everyone a good morning before he quirked, "What?"

"Look at him." Sam accusingly pointed as the soldat, "He's hogging y/n." He continued to explain while purposely reach his hand to touch her. The soldat wordlessly pulled her away before he could reach any further, "See?" Sam pointed again.

Steve didn't defend anyone this time as he only laughed it off before finding his seat. His eyes sparkled with delight to the amount of pancake made by Y/N and the multiple choice of topping and sides; from the sickening sweet stuff to the oddly savoury ones.

He glanced over at his best friend, who was unsubtly trying to hog Y/N away from Sam and his baby blues soften as he thought maybe Shuri was right. Maybe Bucky was always present somewhere in this soldat's persona.

It was such a typical Bucky behaviour to be possessive as the soldat was being. Steve noticed that Bucky would always get a bit agitated when someone touch his girl, even if he doesn't actively show it as much. In the 40's he might've been able to hide it behind his charming smile and witty jokes, but nowdays anyone can see it on his ever-present frown and unintelligible grunts.

That applies for both Bucky and the soldat.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Sam as she pulled the soldat by the hand, "Ignore him, soldat. Now, come have breakfast with me." She sat him on one of the stool by the kitchen isle as she prepared his plate.

Perplexed by the lack response, Sam admitted his defeat for once and joined the isle to have his bite of the morning.

As soon as she settled on her own seat next to him, the soldat took her hand into his, briefly kissing her the back of it. "Thank you, darling." He whispered before placing their locked hands on his lap as they ate, casually rubbing his thumb on her for comfort.

If you thought Y/N was the only one who was blushing at the domestic show of affection, well you'd think again when you see the shade of red on the tip of his ears or the way Sam purposely looked away.

The morning went by with mostly three of them having a pleasant conversation and the soldat silently distract himself by playing with her hand, apparently enthralled by the size difference and how fragile looking hers was.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team came by the kitchen on their own time since some of them prefer to sleep off the pain from the previous mission.

Half an hour later, she felt as if she was caught in a dejavu when she found herself in the same position as before. She laughed softly as she washed dishes, while the soldat stuck himself to her like a oversize koala to a tiny tree.

"I smell pancakes." Tony spoke as he made a bee line towards the kitchen, looking like he just survived a bio hazard in the lab.

"I made extra. Help yourself." Y/N announced, not even trying to look back at them, especially when the soldat had her trapped in his tight embrace.

Tony peeked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Y/N, "Did you see her? I didn't even know she was here until she spoke." He asked, though he sounded more like he was teasing her.

Before Tony could reach out for his plate, Shuri stormed to the kitchen, catching everyone's attention, "Pancakes can wait, Tony." She stopped him which only cause him to whine dramatically.

It felt as if Y/N's heart completely dropped out of her body when Shuri nodded knowingly, "It's time."

There was a quick briefing of the process with everyone involved while they prep the soldat in the other side of the glassed section of the lab. Y/N tried to focus on watching the simple simulation video that was prepared by Tony.

And she heard every single words of Shuri's but all she could think was if the soldat knew what they were doing. If he felt like he was being thrown, being disposed of like some kind of object.

By the time they the explanation ended, Y/N didn't think twice as she marched towards the soldat. The team didn't questioned her motive as they can see the determination in her eyes.

She stopped on her tracks, right at the entrance when a thought ran across her mind.

Of course, she wanted Bucky back but why does this feel so wrong?

"How are you feeling, soldat?" She prompted as she walked over to him, passing the lab employee who scurried away leaving the couple to have some privacy.

The soldat brightened in her presence as he reached out to her with grabby hands, triggering a soft giggle from Y/N. She let her hands gravitate towards his, intertwining her fingers in his hold as he replied, "Much better now." He sighed in contentment the moment he felt her skin against his own.

There was a comforting silence in the room, but Y/N's mind was the complete opposite. There was only chaos of questions that felt so sinful and immoral to utter out loud.

The soldat grip tightens with tenderness, as if he could hear the loud havoc in her head. Moments later, he decided to break the silence with an honest confession.

"I know that I'm not welcomed here." He glanced at the other side of the glass, watching the team pacing around. "I know that you're trying to get rid of me." His ocean blues changed its tides to gaze up at her; the smile on his lips was soft and pure.

"You know, I have been many things in this life..." the soldat looked down where his hands were entangled with hers, "...a killer, a weapon, a monster, you name it." there was a hint of grudge in his voice but mostly it was woven with regret.

"But, worst of all, I have been a thief." It felt as if he has been holding his breath as he avowed.

"I have stolen decades worth of his life, robbed him of his freedom for so many years, every single happiness and hope he could ever experienced had been stripped away right before his eyes," the soldat chuckled ironically before looking up to meet her teary eyes, "...yet I'm still greedy for more days with you."

Y/N found herself unable to speak, afraid that her words would do nothing to coax him; or maybe she just couldn't trust that her voice won't crack in the middle of her sentence especially when she was damn sure that her heart was already cracking for him.

The soldat's eyes softens when he reached his hand to her face, "I never knew that I was capable to feel these futile emotions such as joy and love, until I felt it when he looks at you." Y/N didn't even notice she was crying until he wiped them away with the gentle caresses of his thumb.

"Everything I felt towards you were his to begin with." He confessed as he felt the guilt of stealing yet another precious thing from him again, "That's why, I don't deserve this." The said as he recalled every moment he got to spend with her, "I don't deserve you."

The soldat knows that very well, but that didn't stop the natural curiosity that resides from within him, "And I can't help but to wonder..." he hesitated as he tried to construct the most raw and truthful question to sum up whatever this emotion he was currently feeling.

"Will you remember me?" His voice was small and quiet, almost afraid of the answer that might come his way.

More tears were spilling out as she unhesitantly replied, "How could I not?" Her hands raised to his face, cupping his scruffy cheeks in her palms.

The soldat's eyes sightly wobbled when he asked again, "Will you miss me?" At that time, he didn't know that the feeling he felt was called 'heartache', yet he was handling it like he had been experiencing it all his life.

Y/N leaned as she pressed the most tender kiss on his forehead, "More than you know." Her answer made the soldat smile as he purred in her hold.

He peeled one away from his face and pressed a kiss of his own on the delicate palm of her hand. The same ones that had showed him nothing but so much love and kindness.

When Shuri came into the scene, they know it was time to say goodbye. But, both refused to say anything remotely close to it. So, they wordlessly walked out towards the cylinder shaped glass pod, located right in the middle of the lab.

Until the very end, Y/N stood by his side as he lay on the tight space of the pod. And just as the door was about the close, the soldat smiled lovingly at his precious person, as he called for her nickname one last time.

"So long, Родная (darling)."

Three weeks later. At Avenger's private gym.

Steve re-adjusted his stance as he took cautious step backwards, "Why are you avoiding her?" He asked straightforwardly.

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he lunged forward for a strike, "What are you talking about?" He missed when Steve easily swerved away and countered back, "Don't play dumb, Buck. I'm not in a mood for that."

The brunette blocked his punch with his left forearm but Steve uses that as an opportunity to grab him and pushed him on the floor. Bucky groaned as he landed flat on his chest, left hand on his back.

"Well, I'm not in a mood to talk about it either." He growled as he swing his leg backwards, toppling Steve on his back and pushed his metal arm against his neck, choking him out of his breath, "So, drop it." He warned.

Steve tapped the floor as a sign of defeat and Bucky released his hold while retreat his arm away. Both of them was out of breath but for entirely different reason; Steve was literally choked, so that's fair, but Bucky was breathing heavily as soon as Y/N stepped into the gym.

He stood there with an intense frown on his face, glaring at the woman of his dreams. Literal dreams, or memories of the soldat that was left behind for Bucky after what happened with the winter soldier situation.

Thankfully the method worked, Shuri and Tony managed to bring Bucky back but just like before, he don't have any clear recollection what happened.

While Y/N made the team swore to never speak to Bucky about what he did when he relapsed, while Bucky himself also hides the fact that, much like his previous experience where the memories comes in a form of unsightly nightmares, his memories of those few days were also coming back in a form of dreams.

Though they were never linear. There was no way of knowing the actual flow of his memories.

It came more like snippets of certain moments, sometimes repetitive, sometimes glitchy but they were mostly such good dreams, beautiful even, however they didn't last very long.

At least, not according to Bucky.

Y/N stopped on her tracks as she saw Bucky, who blatantly throwing daggers at her through his eyes. She didn't know why but she didn't want to think of the worst, so she went towards him in hopes of proving her own mind that the negative instincts that she had was wrong.

But the moment she got close, "Hi Buck--" Bucky walked passed her as if she wasn't there in the first place. And she had to admit that, that shit was painful to go through.

And he had been acting like this for two weeks now. Avoiding her like a fucking plague. And she doesn't know why.

He was acting normal during the first week of his awakening, or maybe a little bit more reserved that he usually would be.

She doesn't know how else to explain it but he seemed to act really shy whenever Y/N accidently touched him.

Did someone told him about what happened? Is that why he's mad? She doesn't get it, and she wants to know why.

So before Bucky managed to walk further pass her, Y/N turned on her heels and tugged him by his right arm to stop him. Little did she knew, that might just be the one thing she shouldn't do.

It was like a pre-programmed reaction, when Bucky's body move on his own, as he harshly ripped himself from her grasps, almost dropping her to the ground.

Steve was second away from reaching out to catch her but luckily she found her balance back on her own.

Bucky leered down at her as he spoke, "Don't touch me." His voice came out much more venomous than he intended, making Y/N flinched to his command.

But if that what he needs to do to chase her away from him then so be it, "Just stay the fuck away from me." Bucky spat a cold warning before marching his way out.

Not only leaving Y/N in utter confusion, but with her heart torn to bled dry.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.

"Don't." she whispered quietly.

"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm.

"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, ripping him out of the distorted memories only to leave him gasping in the darkness. He woke up swimming in his bed, drowning in the flood of sheets with his heart pounding as if it was desperate to tear out of his chest.

He looked around suspiciously as if he didn't recognized his own room, until strain of his crotch distracted him. His eyes pried downwards to see his cock struggling to fit in his pants and the images of his lucid dream flashes again.

Bucky shuts his eyes tightly, hoping the torture would stop reminding him of his sins, "You sick fuck." A deep frown formed as he muttered curses to himself.

After hours and hours of free falling tears in her room, letting herself drown in a sorrow that she never knew she would ever experience, she let herself wonder back to those lovely moments of her with the soldat.

She found it ironic that somehow the memories of his touch was also the cure to the wounds left by cruelty of his words.

It's hours passed midnight and her tears finally stopped, at least until her body was able physically form more tears in her glands, she took the time as a chance for her to rest.

Y/N laid on her back, letting the remaining tears to fall into her ears.

Worst part of all of this was not knowing why, and being left in the dark, yet he managed to effortlessly left her heart broken into shatters.

"Don't touch me."

"Just stay the fuck away from me."

Bucky's words had been circling her mind like a raging tornado. It felt like the spitefulness of his voice was mocking the flaws of her fragmented heart, toying with what's left behind after the storm.

Y/N didn't even realized when did she started to make her way towards the kitchen, but it was as if her body knew its own limit when her feet walked her out of the confinement of her room and her mind remind her to hydrate herself.

As she entered the kitchen area, she wasn't expecting to see Bucky standing in the middle of it, leaning forward towards the counter tops.

Even with the little source of light from the corridor, Y/N could see the tiredness in his face as he stare blankly into nothing. But, his expression soon changed when he saw her.

She didn't know what she had done to make him so agitated whenever he laid his eyes on her.

The silence between them was so loud that Y/N couldn't help but to approach him.

"I..." She truly didn't know what to say but it felt like it was her fault. She did take advantage of him when the soldat took over; endless use of his body, hands, lips and not to mention what happened that night. "I'm sorry."

Bucky was truly appalled to her words, even though he didn't show it on his expression. Why does she had to apologize to him when he was clearly the problem, "Why are you apologizing?" his anger naturally slipped through as he spoke.

But Y/N didn't know that he was frustrated at himself, and not at her, so the tone that he used stung her as much as it did prior, "I don't know." She simply said.

Lies.

She knew exactly why apologized but she wasn't sure if Bucky knew what happened when he blacked-out. "I just... I don't want to stay away from you. I don't like it."

She can't; not when her yearning for him had grew stronger than ever before.

"Well, you better get used to it because it won't change any time soon." Bucky spat harshly.

Y/N felt her own rage started to bubble from within.

Why is he being so hot-headed and stubborn like a sulking child? Can't he just act like a fucking adult and talk it out?

Her brows crunched into a frown as she held back her tone, "Why?"

Bucky let out a frustrated as he tried to walk away, shooting a demanding glare as he was passing her, "Just do as you're told, y/n"

"Oh no, you're not gonna run away from this."

She grabbed him by his arms and pulled him back into the conversation. "That's not fair, Bucky."

"Not fair?" His eyes narrowed, as he looked down at the smaller.

She puffed out an angry breath as she glared up, "No, it is not fair! It's not entirely your choice to make." She can feel the flames started to spread, "Especially when you refused to tell me why." She yelled accusingly as she shoved her finger to his chest.

Blood roaring in Bucky's ears as his heart pounded hard, pouring the concealed frustration out like a broken dam as he explodes, "He almost raped you, y/n!!"

There was a few milliseconds of non-movements as both them let those few words sink into their processing brain, "I... almost raped you." His voice shook in both anguish and anger, leaving Y/N frozen in a speechless shock.

"Or maybe I already did and I don't even fucking remember." His hands roughly tugged his long hair back as if he tried to go through the pieces of shattered memories in his wrecked mind.

"And if that is not a fucking sign for you stay away from me, I don't know what else I should do to make you see that." Bucky was breathing heavily that his breaths echoed through the silenced space.

Y/N's mind was running wild as everything slowly clicked. Did he thought that he... No. She blinked several times before she could form actual words, "Bucky, what are you saying? It's okay, it's okay. Just please calm down first and--" she tried to reach for him but that only made Bucky retorted, physically and mentally.

"It's okay? No, it's fucking not. Are you even listening to yourself? Can't you see? I'm dangerous y/n." He sounded as desperate as he was for air. "Especially to you. And if my messed up past was not enough to prove it, then what happened between us when I relapsed certainly did."

His heart rate increase rapidly, and his lungs seemed to work double time. Yet, he refused to let her see how badly he needed comfort.

"Bucky, please breathe. And just.. listen to me--" Y/N was hopeless trying to pull him out of the chaos of his mind but he just wouldn't listen.

Bucky's voice started to waver as the dark revelation continued to cloud him, "He assault you, y/n. I fucking assault you. And I can't let that happened again. So, just please, stay awa--"

"It was my choice!" Y/N snapped as she grabbed Bucky by his shoulder, forcing him to focus on her. "Bucky, I let him touch me. I could stop him if I want to, but I didn't."

Bucky didn't understand, "W-why?"

"Because I know he wouldn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt me." Y/N tried to lay it out for him slowly but then she realized that maybe he didn't need that right now.

"Fuck, Bucky! I'm not a saint." She cursed after a few short moments of hesitation, "I have a lot of feelings I need to deal with like every other human being. Lust, love, you name it. And he..."

In a brief moment, she thought of the soldat, "He gave me the opportunity to feel the love that I always wanted from you. He showed me what we could've been." There was a sense of longing in her eyes, "It started small, soft touches and loving kisses." She smiled to the memories of it.

"And the moment that I thought that it could've been you who's kissing me, touching me. I knew it was over." She didn't know how many times she almost slipped out his name whenever she calls for the soldat; the name 'Bucky' was always at the tip of her tongue but never out.

"One thing led to another and we... I didn't mean to let it stray too far." She confessed, "Bucky, I admit it was wrong for me to take advatange of you, of the soldat, and I know there's no excuse to my behaviour than my own inability to control my feelings for you."

If the soldat thought that he was being greedy, then that makes the two of them.

"I understand if you want me to stay away from you, but just let me say this out loud." Her hands slid down to find his, thankfully he didn't repulsed this time, "Bucky... I love you." She finally spilled the truth as her soften gaze trained on his eyes, "I have loved you for a long time."

Afraid that this could be the end, she refused to look away. She didn't care if Bucky would plunge daggers to her through his words, she want him to know that her feelings for him was unconditional.

And Bucky really tried his best to let all her words sink in, even though most of them were somehow redacted and lost in his head.

But, thankfully the most important ones was so loud and clear for him to draw a simple conclusion that would ease his relentless worries, "You...I.. I didn't force it on you?"

Y/N didn't know why she wasn't expecting him to believe her but she was glad that he did, "No" she replied simply.

Bucky's voice strangled while his hand gripping tighter in her hold, "I didn't hurt you?" His teary eyes pleaded for the truth.

"Not a even close." She smiled kindly.

Bucky felt as the unbearable burden on his shoulders was lifted off completely just by those few simple words that Y/N just uttered. The tears he was desperately holding back broke freely as they stream down his face, his shoulders trembled with the force of his emotions running through his veins.

He whispered, "You don't hate me for it?" He pulled her hands closer to his face, fluttering his eyes shut as he kissed the knuckles of her fingers.

"Never." Y/N reassured, as she cupped his face; stroking her thumbs on his scruffy cheeks, wiping the warm, salty tears away.

Bucky sighed to her touch, it seemed that his body remembered her more than his mind did, "And you love me?" He blinked as he placed his hand on top of her.

Y/N nodded with a loving curve on her lips, "Always have."

Bucky didn't know how she does it but she really did managed to mend and melt his heart all at the same time. It was magic. Or, maybe it was sorcery. But even if she ended up leaving a curse behind, Bucky would still be glad that he let her bewitched him.

Bucky stared down at her, admiring her the kindness in her eyes despite the swolleness of them. He felt bad for breaking her heart, making her cry. It tore his heart just thinking about it.

His tongue darted out for a brief second as his metal hand fell, wrapping around her body.

Y/N maintained to lock her eyes on his as her hand slid down, and pressed on his chest. Despite being comfortable with his touches, and with the amount of kisses the soldat had generously gave her, she shouldn't be nervous anymore but she was.

After all, the soldat never kisses her on the lips and Bucky had his eyes on hers since the beginning.

She wanted his too.

Seeing the anticipation in her eyes, Bucky leaned in to press a kiss on her lips, his flesh hand came up to tilt her chin up, then gently cupped her face as he pulled her closer.

Her lips was so soft against his, that Bucky was sure that he will crave to this every single day.

He briefly pulled away from the kiss to whisper a soft, "I love you too, y/n." Before coming down for another chaste, "More than you could ever fucking imagine." He almost growled as he dipped for more.

Their innocent kiss soon turned into something deeper. They kissed passionately, lost in the bubble of time and space, ignoring the silenced ambiance as they were fixated on the sound of their beating hearts.

And when they pulled away for air, Y/N giggled as a silly thought went through her mind, "Well, I kinda see the glimpse of it in those few days with the soldat, so I think I got the gist of it."

That caused Bucky to let out a genuinely hearty laugh before humming playfully, "Hmm, do you now?" He went in for another kiss, knowing full well that he was already addicted to the taste of her lips.

He just can't get enough of it.

Y/N answered briefly in between his kisses, "Yes."

Bucky smirked as he smoothly guided her backwards, until the back of her waist met with the cold tile of the kitchen isle, "Three times, was it?" his eyes glint with mischieve when he leaned again to steal another kiss.

"What is?" Y/N titled her head to the side, unknowingly giving access for Bucky to lead his kisses from her soft cheek down to her exposed neck.

His lips trailed along the crook of it as he whispered, "Was it three times that he made you cum?" If his goal was to seduce her; well it was safe to say that he did it rather flawlessly.

Y/N thanked god that the kitchen was dim-litted, because the redness on her cheek was rather embarrassing, "I-I'm not sure."

She lied. But, Bucky didn't need to know that.

Bucky chuckled lowly as he murmured, "It's okay, babydoll. We have all the time in the world to beat that record." his naughty hands had already made their way toward her ass before she even have the time to register what he suggested.

Lust decorated the blues in his eyes as he whispered, "Starting now."

End.

<< Part II || Extra >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Yeay, we have reached the end but I might have more of the couple in the future. Though I don't know when will it happen but I have hopes for it. Meanwhile, why don't you tell me what you think of the series and checkout my other work!

#winterarmyyfics #welcome home soldat au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier!bucky

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k2padfoot · 4 months

Text

Perfect

Eddie Munson x Y/n

summary: when your mind is plagued by bad thoughts Eddie wants nothing more than to comfort and reassure you just how perfect you really are. best friends to lovers.

warnings: TW. body shaming, mentions of anorexia, smoking, self loathing, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. SMUT!! (unprotected sex).

A/N: this fic is based on my own experience of skinny shaming. i don’t think a lot of people realize how hurtful it really is to be shamed in any way about your body. please be understanding and kind, all bodies are beautiful! also this is my first time writing smut so i hope y’all like it!!

“She’s so skinny it’s gross.”

“Look at her chicken legs.”

“Does she even eat anything?”

“She looks anorexic.”

“Isn’t she eighteen? She literally looks twelve.”

When your ears caught echo of the painful words from the girls behind you, you abandoned your lunch tray, it’s contents untouched on the table. A rush of emotion had you swiftly leaving the cafeteria, seeking solace beyond its walls.

It's not as if the whispers were unfamiliar to you. They’ve been a haunting refrain since childhood, but with the passing of time their intensity swelled, casting a darker shadow over you.

You harbored a self-loathing, a visual disdain to your own reflection, fueled by the relentless comparison to every other girl in school. Your legs seemed too slender, arms too skinny, lacking in curves, and a chest that barley made its presence known.

You found yourself walking into the woods and taking a seat at the aging picnic table nestled in the clearing. As you settled onto its weathered surface you allowed your head to fall into your hands while the tears began to flow.

The cascade of tears persisted, blurring your perception of the world around you, but the subtle sound of someone settling into the seat across from you reached your ears.

Aware that it was none other than your best friend, Eddie Munson, you didn’t have the courage to lift your gaze and meet his eyes.

You felt his comforting touch on your wrist as he delicately withdrew your trembling hands from your face, his voice laced with genuine concern, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

Your gaze barley rose to meet his, and the tears that welled in your eyes tugged at the strings of Eddie’s heart.

A fractured sigh escaped your lips, “You know just the perfect little cheerleaders spitting insults at me like usual.” You remarked with a scoff, a touch of bitterness in your voice.

A wave of distress swept over Eddie, unsettled by your words. “I’m sorry sweetheart. They’re just a bunch of preppy assholes, I know how shitty it feels to be the focal point of their laughs but you don’t deserve that. How can I help?”

In the quiet recess of your mind you considered a little temporary solution. “Hmm, you got a joint on you by any chance?”

A sly grin splayed on his lips, “Of course I do.” He quickly reached into his backpack pulling one out and sparking the end, “Don’t go anywhere without one.” Your eyes were glued to his lips as he took the joint into his mouth and slowly exhaled the smoke.

You finally broke the unyielding hold of your gaze when Eddie passed you the joint, taking it in between your lips and drawing in the smoke, Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the way it left your lips.

After the joint was passed back and forth until it was no longer burning you began to gather your things.

“You going home?” Eddie asked as he started to get up from the table.

“Yeah, don’t really feel up to going back to class.” You said, following his actions standing up and swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Okay, I’ll join you.”

A rough sigh left your lips, “No Eddie, you have to go back to class if you want to graduate this year. I’ll be fine, seriously don’t worry about it.”

Eddie was hesitant to leave, in all honesty he just wants to take you home and tell you how beautiful you are, but he knows he can’t. “If you’re sure.” He said.

“I am Eddie, I’ll see you later tonight okay? Now get back to class.” You teased and he nodded before turning around, reluctance lingering in his every step away from you.

Eddie Munson found himself entangled in an enchantment with you, a feeling reciprocated by your own infatuation of him. However, the unspoken truth hung in the air, an uncharted territory where vulnerability loomed, both fearing to confess thinking the other might not feel the same.

Eddie hurried out of Hellfire in anticipation to get to your house. It was a movie night just like every Friday night, and in the wake of todays events, Eddie felt an undeniable urge to make this night special for you. To get your mind off of the harsh realities of the day. So he stopped at the general store grabbing all of your favorite snacks and picked up one of your favorite horror films from family video, A Nightmare on Elm Street.

When Eddie pulled into your driveway he was confused to see no lights on, he knew your parents were out of town but not even your bedroom light was on. Eddie jumped out of the van and hurried to the door, he knew you were home because your car was in the driveway so with his hands full of snacks he knocked a few times.

After the fourth unanswered knock, he hesitated briefly before cautiously turning the doorknob, and to his surprise it was unlocked.

Venturing into the dimly lit living area, he called out your name, the echoes of his voice fading into an unsettling silence. He continued on through the house making his way upstairs to your bedroom. As he reached your bedroom, Eddie’s worry intensified at the absence of your presence.

In that moment a delicate murmur of hushed sniffles reached his ears coming from the direction of your bathroom.

As he got closer he could hear the sobs racking through your body resonating through the closed door like a haunted melody.

Slowly as to not startle you he eased the door open revealing a sight that sent a shiver through him. There you were, a fragile silhouette against the wall, your form cradled by the floor. Knees drawn close, hands entwined in strands of your hair, and your face pressed against the haven of your legs.

“Y-Y/n?” Eddie's voice, a gentle whisper, faltered as he knelt before you. "Sweetheart, I'm here.” He uttered, his warm hands finding solace on the curve of your knees.

At the sudden awareness of his presence, your head snapped upward, revealing your puffy red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. Your words struggled to escape, “Shit, I-I forgot you were coming over, I’m sorry.” A wave of guilt and embarrassment draped over you as you let your head fall back to your knees and your fingers grip into your hair.

“Princess, please stop pulling at that beautiful hair of yours.” Eddie’s gentle touch eased your hands from your head. “Can you look at me?” He whispered, delicately lifting your chin, his eyes searching the depths of your own.

“Talk to me sweetheart, tell me what’s bothering you.” His soft voice accompanied the feather-light dance of his thumb along the curve of your cheek.

A pause hung in the air as more tears fell from your eyes. “I-I hate my body. I hate the way I’m so fucking skinny compared to all the beautiful girls at school. I wish that I didn’t look like this, it’s disgusting!”

A heavy ache settled in his chest as he looked at you with sad eyes. “Don’t say that, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen Y/n.” His words softly spilled.

“W-What?”

He smiled gently, fingers softly sweeping to push aside a stray hair from your face, his touch lingering there for a moment. “Yeah, to me your perfect.”

Once more, you lowered your head, “Eddie—

“Stop, just listen to me for a second.” Again, he tenderly lifted your chin coaxing your eyes to meet his. “The first time I saw you, you took my breath away. Everything about you is so captivating, every facet of your being mesmerized me. From your striking eyes, to your infectious smile, the tiny little freckles like constellations on your skin. To the curves of your hips, and the shape of your thighs like a dance of contours, God you are just so beautiful Y/n.”

In that instant, your eyes welled up with tears stirred by his unexpected honesty. Caught in the shock of the moment, you instinctively surged forward bridging the gap as your lips met his in a tender, unexpected embrace.

Initially catching Eddie off guard, the awareness finally dawned on him that your lips had found his, instantly melting into the kiss. His hands ascended, gently cradling your face, while you fervently grasped at his soft locks. You both felt a whirlwind of sensations as neither of you had the intention to stop, yet the necessity for a breath of air became an undeniable plea.

As you reluctantly pulled away, a glistening thread of your mixed saliva separated your entwined lips. In that lingering moment you exchanged an intense gaze full of unspoken emotions.

“W-Wow, I’ve been waiting forever to do that.” He admitted, a warm smile splayed across his lips that was woven with threads of love.

You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and the undeniable love swelling within your chest. “Me too.”

“Good, I’ve always liked you I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship incase you didn’t feel the same way about me.” He told you.

You let out a light hearted giggle, “Well that’s ridiculous isn’t it, because I’ve had feelings for you for years now.”

A curious frown etched across his brow, “So you’re saying you could’ve been mine all along?”

“Yes, because I’ve always been yours Eddie. I think we’ve wasted some serious time tiptoeing around our feelings for each other.” You let out a playful laugh.

“Well we don’t have to waste time anymore, do we?” Eddie said, his lips turning into a cunning grin.

You had to squeeze your thighs together when your eyes caught the bulge forming in his jeans. “Well, I-I guess you’re right.”

He roughly planted his lips on yours in a needy manner, swiftly pulling you to your feet and tugging you flush against his chest. His hands were exploring all over your body as he gently guided you towards your bedroom.

He softly tossed you onto the bed before reconnecting your lips in a desperate manner. “So beautiful.” Eddie muttered between kisses before his lips trailed to your neck and then to your ear. When he placed a gentle bite to your ear a hushed moan escaped your lips.

After placing a few more marks on your neck he drew himself back, his hands reaching for the hem of your t-shirt.

“W-wait!” you hastily rose your voice.

Eddie’s eyes went wide with fear, “I-I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Is this too much?”

“No! No, it’s just— I don’t want you to be disappointed.” A sad frown cast upon your face as you looked down to your hands.

“Disappointed? Baby I could never be disappointed by you. Please, let me show you how truly beautiful I think you are.” Eddie pleaded with you, his hands gliding softly up your arms until they reached your cheeks, gently cradling your face to meet his gaze.

You hesitated for a moment but you trust Eddie, and his earlier words echoed in the chambers of your mind reassuring your decision to trust him. “O-Okay, you can take it off.”

Gently Eddie pulled off your shirt and you instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest as to conceal yourself.

“Hey, don’t do that sweetheart, I want to see all of your beauty.” His gentle words resonated as he reached for your arms, slowly encouraging them away from the protective fortress of your chest.

“See, you’re gorgeous baby. Is it okay if I take this off?” He gestured to your lacy pink bra and you tentatively nodded.

The clasp of your bra broke free and Eddie took this chance to take the rest of it off, “Fuck.” He let out a hushed breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “So fucking perfect.” He muttered through sloppy kisses down your neck until he reached your breast. Without warning he took your nipple into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, earning a loud moan from you.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty baby.” Eddie groaned against your tits.

Through muffled moans you pushed Eddie off of your chest, “Eds, c-can you take your shirt off? I wanna see you too.” You practically begged.

Eddie grinned at your anticipation before throwing his shirt over his head and onto the floor. Your fingers ran across his exposed skin stopping to trace the tattoos adorning his chest. “You’re so pretty Eds.”

Immediately he closed the gap between you engulfing your lips into his with a hungry intent. Swiftly his hand slid into your shorts and found your clothed heat, he didn’t waste a minute before rubbing soft circles on your clit causing you to moan even more. “Eddie, please.” you plead against his lips.

“Shh princess, I wanna show you how pretty you are.” Before you could grasp any thoughts they were quickly swept away when he yanked down your shorts along with your panties earning a sultry gasp from your lips.

“Shit. You’re fucking unreal.” Eddie kneeled in front of you staring at you like a piece of art. He bent down planting tender kisses across the landscape of your stomach, continuing with equal devotion down to the curve of your hips. Delicate kisses lingered in the warmth between each thigh, “So, so beautiful.” He whispered with an unwavering devotion

You could feel your heat dripping in anticipation. In any other situation you would’ve halted any advance to get your shirt off, let alone your pants, but this was Eddie. Eddie, who was currently worshiping you as if you were a divine being.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good princess.” He uttered just before engulfing his face into your pussy. “Ahh, fuck Eddie!” you cried out between breathless moans, his tongue lapping at your clit like a starved animal.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie struggled to say with his mouth on your cunt.

“Fuck yes baby, keep going!” you shouted out in bliss.

A wave of confidence swept through him at the passionate sounds he was eliciting from you, compelling him to slip a finger into your entrance while he worked at your clit with his tongue.

Intense waves of pleasure began to consume your body as his fingers plunged in and out of your hole, finding yourself having no control you gripped onto Eddie’s hair, “I-I’m gonna, fuck I’m—

“Let go sweetheart, I’ve got you.” His words were enough to have your orgasm rushing through you as loud moans and Eddie’s name repeated like a mantra from your lips.

He quickly lapped up your juices, gazing at you with blown eyes before gently caressing his hands up and down the length of your legs. “Jesus, I love these gorgeous legs.” He uttered softly before trailing his hands up to your hips, delicately tracing them with the grace of his fingertips. “And these sexy hips.”

Before you knew it his hands were gliding up your stomach, ascending to your chest, only to stop with a gentle touch to your face. “Beautiful girl.” He whispered, allowing his thumb to tenderly stroke your cheek.

His sweet words stirred a spring of tears in your eyes, an irresistible surge of emotion that had you crashing your lips into his. Your lips worked in sync, tongues dancing in a fervent rhythm, creating a mess of wet kisses and the occasional collision of teeth.

“Eddie?” You pulled away from the kiss, “I want to feel you.”

Eddie could feel his cock angry against his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to give it to you and only you. He quickly jumped up, pulling his pants down along with his boxers before he reclaimed his position, settling once again atop you. In a breathy whisper, he spoke softly, his lips grazing yours, “You don’t have to tell me twice sweetheart.”

He took his cock in his hands and swiped it through your glistening folds a few times before slapping it against your clit. “Oohh, Eddie please.” You begged.

A content smile traced its way across his lips as he hovered above your entrance, leaning down to kiss you before sinking into your pussy. An audible gasp could be heard from your lips as his cock filled you up, “Fuck you’re so tight.” Eddie practically moaned into your mouth.

He was taking it slow, indulging in the warmth of your walls, but you reached a point where you couldn’t take it any longer. “Eddie fuck me, fuck me faster!” You practically yelled after parting your lips from his, and your legs wrapped around his back, a deliberate gesture to have him deeper inside of you.

Eddie reached his limit, unable to resit your desperate pleas for him, unable to resit the way your walls sucked him in. “Yeah? You want more?” He said, words laced with desire. You watched as he began to relentlessly thrust into you, the way his cock slid in out of your wet hole so easily had your head spinning, and his hands trailing all over your body earned more sinful moans from your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s it. You’re so fucking gorgeous Y/n.” He uttered before seizing your hips with a firm grip to draw you closer as he settled onto his knees, a new angle that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

With each rough thrust he skillfully targeted that sensitive spot you craved the most, you were seconds away from unraveling, that familiar euphoric wave rendering your brain with bliss and leaving you breathless. Your walls began clenching around him and he knew you were coming undone, “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”

As your orgasm washed over you, you were a moaning mess unable to stop yourself from the cries and disarray of words leaving your lips. “Ahhh! Fuck, oh fuck Eddie I love you!”

Eddie’s thrust we’re starting to get sloppy as his own orgasm was approaching, “Say that again.” He muttered, grabbing your chin with a gentle but firm touch ensuring you were looking at him.

“I love you Eddie.” You repeated for him, and Eddie’s hips rutted into yours roughly.

“Ohhh fuck Y/n, I love you so much!” He practically cried out, his lips latching onto yours as his cock twitched inside of you, his warm release spilling into your pussy.

Through breathless pants and sloppy kisses, Eddie laid you back down on the bed and slowly eased out of you. “Let me go get something to clean you up.” He told you before darting to your the bathroom.

When he came back, a fresh towel in hand, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked so fucked out against the pillows.

“I’m just gonna clean you up quick.” He said and in response you mindlessly nodded as he gently wiped away your mixtures of cum.

After tossing the towel into the hamper, he leaned down to grab his discarded clothes when you protested. “No don’t, lay with me?”

The warm smile upon his lips illuminated the room as he gracefully joined you in bed. You gently raised your head, resting it upon his chest, as he nestled below you. His arms instinctively wrapping around you, legs entwined, a profound sense of comfort and familiarity enveloped you both, as if this was the missing piece, the way you were always meant to be.

Eddie’s fingers gently threaded through you hair, almost sending you into a soothing slumber when his voice gently interrupted your sleepy state.

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked your tired eyes glancing upward at him,“Hmm? Yeah sure.”

Eddie’s voice carried a delicate hesitation, “Did you really mean that? You know when you said—

“When I said I love you? Yeah, I meant it.” You interrupted before he could finish.

Emotion quietly unfolded in the depths of his gaze, a softness reflecting in his eyes at your words. “Good, because I did too.”

A broad smile crept across your cheeks as you leaned in sealing the connection with a kiss, a kiss filled with not only passion but the language of love.

As Eddie gently withdrew, his gaze lingered in a tender lock with your eyes, “One more question, can I be your boyfriend?”

A fluttering storm of butterflies danced within the confines of your stomach as a delightful giggle escaped you, “Yes. Yes, yes, 1000x yes!” The sheer excitement had you throwing yourself into his arms as he embraced you with an even firmer grip.

You knew with Eddie by your side, the shadows of doubt would never cast themselves upon you again.

322 notes · View notes

delaber · 7 months

Text

Firestarter (Loki x Reader)

Summary: After having been granted safe passage to the Avengers’ head quarters, Loki’s delighted to learn that he can pass the time by toying with the hate of the newest recruit.

Tropes: Enemies to lovers.

Words: 4.2K

Warnings: smut, mentions of battle injuries

Find part 2 here

They would all be fools to trust him. They know it. Loki knows it. Hell, even the specs of dust floating around know it!

The only one that seems eager to patch up the growing rift between the opposite sides of the room is the meathead of his brother who is blabbering away, trying hard to ignore the cold air coming from the other Avengers.

He's persistent, you'd have to give him that. They must really love Thor to grant Loki safe passage in their home like this.

- The stab of a thought hits Loki straight in the chest. Sticks to his ribs as he contemplates the sharp hate radiating off of the cotton-clad team opposite him. They don't look the least bit threatening in their oversized casual wear, but they've still granted his brother the upper hand so graciously, and for the first time in a while, he feels the balancing scales tip. It was easier when it was just the three idiots Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg who were fawning over his brother - Sif on occasion too, though Loki had had her in multiple ways Thor could never even wrap his pea-sized brain around.

The thought alone makes the tar on his ribs slowly drip away.

He must've drifted off, lost in thought of Sif with her bare ass in the air because the next thing he registers is Thor's meaty hand between his shoulder blades. "You all know my brother..." he chuckles awkwardly and pushes Loki forwards. Adds his name for clarification when nobody answers. Idiot.

The room's almost dead-silent. Stark scoffs theatrically loud and that Barton fellow turns a lovely shade of plum as he immediately races out of the room without uttering a single word - not that Loki can really blame him; he's killed for less.

Even the newbies on the team are staring daggers at him, though Loki doubts he's ever met any of them before; Captain Rogers' brooding siamese twin, the beefed up action figure beside him and that... woman - the pretty one - her eyes ablaze with a certain kind of hatred that he can physically feel down his spine as she scowls in his direction.

Loki cocks an eyebrow, amused that his reputation precedes him so much that her hate is tangible, and she huffs and pushes through the crowd while the one with the metal arm - the siamese twin - grabs her shoulder to prevent her from stepping too close. It only angers her even more and she shakes off the vibranium hand but stands her ground with her head lifted in cool arrogance, her eyes never wavering from Loki's.

Oh, she really hates him!

The look on her face reminds him of the tales he's heard of Muspelheim. Of Surtur and flames shining brighter than the sun; all of Asgard burning while the glass of the shattered rainbow bridge glistens in the flames and sticks to his skin, covers his hair. With her, there's fire in the air. He feels it immediately and it draws him in.

***

He spends his days in the shadows, observes the dynamics of the Avengers, gathers information in case he has to do something... drastic. He's not exactly planning on betraying the trust his brother's placed in him, but it's never unwise to have a plan to overthrow the Avengers - just in case. So he learns what he can from afar; their likes, their dislikes, their routines. But mostly, Loki just observes her.

She really loathes him which only makes it all the more fun. She storms off whenever he comes close. Flares her nostrils, squares her jaw, stamps away like a petulant child - and he must admit that he does love it! He enjoys having her wrapped around his little finger, that his mere presence can pull such a sincere reaction out of her. It makes the seidr in his veins feel electric; like pure voltage in the palm of his hand as it begs him to show off - show her - what he can do with it. He wonders if this is what Thor feels like when his eyes turn bone-white and arctic blue with lightening.

"I wish you would stop with that."

Loki glances towards his brother, tries to look as bored as possible as if he really doesn't know what he's talking about. "Stop with what?"

Thor gives out a long sigh and Loki is reminded of the first time Thor was disappointed with him; even though it's almost a thousand years ago, he can still smell the sweetness of the stolen tarts he'd hidden underneath his pillowcase and the empty hole in his chest where he knew he should be feeling shame but didn't.

"You know what I mean... It's not nice."

"In case you haven't noticed; I don't care about being nice."

"You're taunting her."

"She's an easy target," Loki hums with remnants of a chuckle, places his hands on the back of his head as he looks over at her. Even as she does something as mundane as drinking her morning coffee, she keeps a wary eye on him. It's entertaining. "You really can't blame me."

"It's not as if she's dangling bait, brother. You hurt her."

"I hurt her?!" Loki snaps, offended, "- when?"

"You really haven't realised?"

"Realised what?"

Another sigh. "Can't you tell she's from New York?"

Loki stops replying after that. Settles on picking an imaginary crumb from off his chest; thin crusted and rhubarb filling. He avoids Thor's gaze. He doesn't feel empty now and they both know it.

***

He'd come running through the compound with the rest of them as soon as the strangled war cry had met his ears.

Half-hiding behind one of the huge stone columns, he takes her in; she's covered in blood from head to toe, panting harshly as she stands in the middle of the hall, daggers still clutched tightly in both hands as her friends surround her. She looks fiery, evil, war ready - like the Valkyries from back home with their spears and their feminine hands skilfully wringing death out of anyone who crosses Asgard.

There had been a time where Loki had been afraid of them, and then, as he grew a little older, completely mesmerised by their raw beauty and the smell of battle as they rode towards the Royal Palace to report back to Odin and his ravens. He remembers standing in the hallowed halls of Valaskjalf with Huginn and Muninn circling above him as the Valkyries take off their helmets and look towards his brother. What he wouldn't have given to have one of them stab him, let alone notice him. Five hundred years later and it still hurts...

Steve Rogers is standing right by her side, not covered in as much blood as she is but still looking relieved to be back home. He sends a nod in Stark's direction and throws an electronic device across the room with a defeated sigh. It doesn't take a genius to see that even though the mission went well, they'd been ambushed.

Rogers takes a step closer to her, puts his arm around her shoulders as to hug her, and for the first time since they appeared in the entrance hall, she howls in pain, collapses on the floor and wrings her face in the most horrible way.

Loki notices the hole in her suit first. Sees how the red comes in pulses and flows down over her shoulder and chest. She's been stabbed, and by the looks of the dark red tissue in the gap, it's deep.

Steve Rogers yelps in shock, throws himself down on the ground beside her and instantly starts pressurising the wound with his bruised hands while his two companions are by her side immediately, ready to scoop her up in their arms and carry her to safety.

Loki takes in the scene unfolding before him; the three frantic men, the spurting blood, her panicked face as she cries. Swears he can hear Hel whisper her name.

"Leave her," he suddenly hears his own voice booming through the echoing hall and it drowns out the whisper.

They all stop dead in their tracks. Look around for him.

He's not sure exactly where all of this is coming from; he really couldn't care less if she died, but he finds himself stepping around the column, and he comes out with his arms raised as if surrendering. "She's gonna bleed out before you reach a doctor."

Action figure-man is on his feet almost immediately: "And what do you suggest?," he hisses angrily, "that we leave her be? Let her die here on the floor without even trying?"

Loki raises his arms a little higher and takes another careful step towards them. "I can help."

"You can help? And why should we trust you?"

"First of all, you shouldn't," he states as he simply cannot help himself. "- But it's your only chance of saving your friend."

"You're not serious!" Tin-man hisses and looks towards Loki while helping Steve Rogers putting pressure on the gaping wound, "as if we're supposed to believe you suddenly care."

Loki wants to bite back but a painful sound from her makes him hold his tongue.

"- We're not gambling with her life!"

"Are you sure?" Loki retorts and it finally makes Captain Rogers look up. "- Because it looks to me as if you are."

Loki cannot see Thor who's standing behind him, but he imagines the slow nod of approval he gives the Steve Rogers trio, because suddenly the Captain gives out a heavy sigh, his eyes downcast. "Alright then," he says in defeat and waves Loki closer while clutching her tight.

"Steve!" Tin-man appeals but his best friend has made up his mind.

All eyes turn to Loki.

He's surprised to learn that he doesn't enjoy it as much as he'd imagined he would. He supposes it's because the main difference between him and his brother has once again been underlined so cruelly.

"If you try anything," action figure man warns and Loki bites back: "What? You'll kill me? As if I haven't heard that before. Now get out of my way, mortal."

He steps forwards, squats down beside her and summons the green sparks in the palm of his hand, looks her in the eye for the first time since the day they'd been introduced. There's fire behind her colourful irises; mistrust, chaos and fear. She leans towards him and with all her strength grabs his wrist. "What - are - you - doing?" she pants and wrings him tightly.

"Saving you," he mumbles and turns his palm around, directs the sparks at her gashing wound.

She gives out a small painful hiss as the wound closes up immediately but her eyes never leave his face. They transgress from pain to panic to relief. He's there with her for the whole ride and it does absolutely nothing to drown the embers inside of him.

"Oh my god," Captain Rogers mumbles and runs his fingers over the newly-formed scar on her front as he stares in disbelief.

Her doubting eyes are still carefully watching Loki, her small fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrist. Her mouth goes slack and she finally lets go of him, looks towards the closed up wound, then back at him. "Thank you," she whispers apprehensively.

It makes his seidr glow fluorescently green in his veins and he gets the sudden urge to fall to his knees and lick her clean.

Had Huginn and Muninn only still been alive, he would've made them watch this up close so they could report it back in detail to all of Asgard.

***

The Avengers are not as cold after that. Still wary of him - as they should be - but the hatred and constant fear is gone. And when she comes back from her bed rest, it tickles him that the first thing she does is to seek him out.

"Thank you," she says slowly, almost controlled, and extends her hand as a peace offering, "- for saving my life."

"You already said that."

"Well, I meant it."

He looks up at her. Her mouth is formed to a pout, her body poised in vigilance, her eyes carefully watching his every movement while her hand extends into dangerous grounds. She's still not sure what his motives are and it gives him the opportunity to toy with her a bit. "...I'm honoured?"

A short-lived flame of annoyance flashes across her features as she retracts her hand back to safety with a huff.

"Did I say something wrong?" he quips in the hopes that he can keep her attention.

"You're trying to rile me up."

"How dare you!" He says in mock offence. "I would never!"

She crosses her arms underneath her chest, "I'm trying to offer you an olive branch and all you do is ridicule me. Are you really that desperate for attention?"

It amuses him. He loves when she shows him bits of the real her. "Are you calling me desperate for attention because I don't care I saved your life?"

“Then why did you do it?”

“It was merely strategic,” he shrugs and hopes she doesn’t detect the lie that tastes bitter on his tongue. Why did he save her? The question’s been nagging him for days now. “- it’s never unwise to have an Avenger owe you their life.”

“Wow,” she blinks and shakes her head in disbelief. "I don't know why we all listened to Thor - he said you'd changed but you're clearly still a conniving snake.”

"A snake?” he smiles, relieved that his lie has her convinced, "is that supposed to hurt me? Trust me, darling, I've been called worse."

"Just a gentle reminder that you'll never be anything but a villain."

"I suppose every villain is a hero in their own mind."

She takes the bait and narrows her eyes. "You absolutely destroyed my hometown. All the places I loved. And you have the nerve to call yourself a hero?!"

"Would you prefer a god?"

She flares her nostrils in frustration, "is everything a joke to you?"

"...Mainly?" he smirks "in case you haven't noticed, I'm the God of Mischief - it's in the job description."

She takes a few angry breaths. "Life is always a performance for you, isn't it? Whether it's an endless need for attention, a humorous quip, or the unfolding of another of your great plans, it's always just for show!"

He's excited to feel that the full-blown anger's back and she's seeing red. And to think he was almost disappointed in her?!

She grinds her teeth. "Just so we're clear, I'm not doing this to imply we're even or to make you feel just the slightest bit better about yourself for what you did. Trust me, I'd still rather see you rotting away in a prison cell. You-"

"I must admit," he drawls, gives himself some time to enjoy her undivided, flaming attention as he so impolitely interrupts her, "I like you much more when you're honest with me. When you admit you want to watch me burn! This front of niceties you just put up? This so-called olive branch while you so uncharacteristically give up control? It doesn't suit you."

She wrings her arms in frustration, narrows her eyes into slits. "You're goddamn insufferable!"

***

She's not more intoxicated than the rest of the Avengers, but she is drunk. Agent Romanoff keeps handing her clear liquor in small glasses that they down in a single second, followed by strings of laughs when the alcohol burns in their throats.

He remembers being drunk like that; fresh, sweet-smelling mead from oak barrels in the hundreds, wine in golden carafes on every table. He used to love the parties him and Thor threw; the chaos, the abundance! A heavy flow of alcohol was always a neat little excuse for his erratic behaviour, but the best part was always when the mead was extra good and strong and he could get Thor to follow his lead. Oh, how they used to cause rampage! They would've been unstoppable, had they only been on the same side.

Loki turns around the brown glass bottle in his hand so he can read the blue label; five percent...

He misses the lightheadedness, the parties, him and Thor being on the same side, Asgard. He's never longed for a taste of home this much before. He looks back at her.

"You're being unusually quiet this evening," Thor says from layers away, "should I be worried?"

"Hmm?" Loki snaps out of it, turns his head towards his brother who's sitting with an annoyingly smug expression plastered on his face. "No, I'm just contemplating this piss they call beer. How can they drink it?" He gives the bottle a sniff and winces. "I never thought I'd hear myself say it but I miss Asgard."

"Is that sentiment I sense in you, brother?"

"Absolutely not," he scoffs and looks back at her and Romanoff as they give out a loud laugh. "I'm glad it burned."

Her eyes scan the room, land on Loki's for a split second too long to pretend they didn't register him. For some reason, it satisfies him. She's aware of his presence.

"You like her," he hears Thor's chuckle from beside him.

"Bite your tongue!"

"I notice you stare at her a lot," he chuckles again.

Loki wants to say something. Wants to make Thor pay for what he's implying, but he doesn't really have a great comeback to that.

***

It's later that same evening when she finally approaches him. Toned legs walking towards him, wide hips swaying up the small set of stairs, shoulders pushed arrogantly back as she determinedly stares him down. She only has eyes for him. Finally.

He can't help but meet her halfway; he leans forwards, balances his elbows on his knees, impatiently waits for her to spit on him.

"Loki," she hums with fire in her eyes when the syllables hit her tongue.

"Yes, little dove?" he quips, excited to see her riled up and finally talking to him again.

"I want to talk to you," she scans the room for unwanted attention before her sharp eyes find his again and he feels the bone-white and arctic blue. "This little game you're playing?" She says harshly, "It ends now."

He almost gives in. Almost. "What game?"

"Don't play stupid," she huffs. "I can't do anything without you keeping an eye on me. Tell me what it is you want."

He cannot help the smirk that appears on his lips and he leans a little closer, spreads his knees apart.

"Answer me," she demands, her chest heaving.

"You haven't asked a question," he says calmly as if he truly didn't notice the way her eyes lingered on his crotch.

"You want me to be sincere," she states and takes another step towards him. "-I want the same thing from you."

She's so close he can smell her; sweet, salty, tang on the back of his tongue. She's ripe like a fucking goddess!

He absentmindedly rubs his thighs. "Darling, I assure you; this is me being sincere."

Her chest is heaving in heavy pants. She's annoyed. "Then tell me exactly what you want from me."

She holds his gaze in an insane power play while he ponders for a second. Should he tell her his intentions? String her along for a little while longer and make her second-guess everything? He is the God of Mischief, he supposes, but she looks so sweet, so damn fuckable as she angrily stares down at him. So he gives in and tells her what he wants. After all, why shouldn't he? What's he got to lose?

***

A decent man would've probably kept her at an arms length, tucked her into bed and told her she was way too drunk to make decisions like this, but Loki's not a decent man. He'll take what he can get and leave the decency to team Cap.

With a flick of his wrist, they're back in his bedroom. She's naked in his lap, pushing her lovely tits up against him as she pulls him closer. "You like me," she whispers and licks the shell of his ear. Moves her pelvis against his leather clothing, "you like watching me."

"Shut up," he groans and pulls her flush against his chest, pushes his tongue past her teeth as he grinds her bottom against his crotch.

Her hand comes down between them, slides down over the trail of hair underneath his navel before her fingers find their way to the buttons of his leather pants, unleashes him without a single touch. She eyes him hungrily but keeps her hands to herself, nonverbally insists she has the power to control him. The way she looks at him: he's so hard, it's verging on torture.

"Tell me you like me," she pulls harshly down on his hair, bites him; draws blood from his lower lip.

"Ah!" he hisses though he likes it! "Careful!"

She yanks his hair again with an evil smile and Loki swears, he almost comes.

"You're a devil, aren't you?" he hears himself say as he smacks her ass and bites her nipple, takes advantage of her little jump to push two fingers inside her pulsing heat. She's gushing already, soaks him all the way down to his knuckles as she rides his hand, pinches her own nipples.

"Say my name," he pulls on her earlobe with his teeth. "Spit on me!"

She finds his eye, gives him the same evil smile as before and whispers a short "no," as she arches her back and pushes her nipple back into his mouth. Cheeky little thing.

He curls his fingers and strokes her g-spot, enjoys the sounds she's making for him. Only for him, he reminds himself and feels his chest expanding with something unfamiliar that makes him want to melt into her. He pushes it away; concentrates on the tangible pleasure and not how it makes his head dizzy.

As if on cue, her hands finally find his aching cock and she starts stroking him slowly. He's harder than ever and leaking already.

He looks down between them; small feminine hands caressing him so sweetly is a fantastic contrast to all the biting and pulling. He feels his chest expanding again. "Fuck!" he hisses and pushes himself into her hand to feel something else. Focus on the pleasure, he tells himself and stutters his hips upwards again and again.

Her fingers are running through his hair and she's sucking on his tongue while her hand sets the pace, runs over his stained head. "You want this?" She whispers, bites the thin skin below his jaw.

Fuck yes he wants this! Wants her! He groans.

"You want to save my life?," she bites him again, pulls on his hair. "You want me to spit on you? Are you so desperate to fuck an avenger?"

He hisses at that, grabs her jaw tightly. "I hate the Avengers!"

"Are you sure?" she smiles devilishly and points at the scar on her shoulder. "Are you sure you really hate us?”

He groans in defeat and releases her pretty face with a hiss and positions himself at her entrance, finally pushes himself inside with the same pace as she lowers herself down towards his hips. “Ah! Fuck!”

It's an immediate collision of universes, Loki is seeing stars and needs a second to come down to earth, to savour the feeling, but he hardly has time to get used to the warm wetness squeezing him tight before she starts moving in long, warm pulses.

He's captivated, enchanted! He bites her neck, holds her down, desperate to keep her bouncing in a speed that makes him flex his toes without making him explode. He wants this to last. He wants this memory of her hatefucking him into oblivion. This beautiful, vengeful woman who's mounting him like a stallion and riding him like a valkyrie riding to battle. "Goddess!" he hisses against her neck and she finally finds his mouth and without the use of teeth, presses silky lips against his, makes everything inside of him glow green with desire. It’s desire, he tells himself though it feels like something else.

"Loki," she finally moans in his ear and he's never heard anything sweeter.

He pulls her closer, fucks into her and smells her skin. Kisses the scar below her shoulder.

He saved her.

His seidr runs crazy, tingles throughout every limb, makes him see everything clear: he wants her to want him and only him!

That’s why he saved her.

His last thought before he completely lets go is of the disaster he knows this will bring upon him; his own, personal Ragnarok visible on the horizon. She has the power to make him crumble, to make him burn brighter than the sun and turn to ash. He feels it already and there's no stopping it.

He thinks of Valaskjalf. Of molten gold and flames licking his father’s throne.

She speeds up, moans his name, fills his chest with fire.

Valhalla, I'm coming home.

Find part 2 here

#loki x reader fanfiction #loki x reader #loki smut #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki pining #loki x you #loki x y/n #mcu loki #loki angst

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Note

I saw that you need ideas, so how about a yandere from the Neons? I mean, I would like to see more content from them since they represent the elements in Honkai star rail, by the way, sorry if you don't understand, my English is bad... I leave you a little drawing of a masculine makima (it has nothing to do with it, but as a gift ) xd Also, I don't know if I'm the only one, but Nanook makes me handsome >///<

(Sorry, I had already finished it but the work was stained hahaha and I did it again)

Yus the Aeons are so cool looking!! You really feel like they’re actual gods of the universe, especially since you don’t see them first hand (at least for now). Also Masculine Makima reminds me of Karma Akabane lol. I’ll draw it in my style, and add it here as an extra for you ♥️

Hb we mash those two topics up together actually?

warnings: mild yandere themes. mild spoilers for csm. major canon divergence. reader takes the shape of a masc/amab character but it isnt their original form.

status: unedited. updated art.

YANDERE! AEONS + VARIOUS! HSR x AEON OF FEAR/CONTROL! READER

You have no memory of your conception, only that you started existing for what felt like an eternity.

You represented fear and despair, but unlike IX whose mere presence drove humanity into insanity, or the rest of your fellow aeon’s godlike status amongst the world,

you walked around as a normal, ordinary human being.

As normal as an Aeon can get anyways.

In your current lifetime, you took the shape of Himeko’s “brother”, planting fake memories into her mind and being the one that urged her to travel the stars. While she was the navigator, you took the role of conductor before creating Pompom to supplant you.

Welt always knew you weren’t just a regular person. Your eyes always felt distant, so far off that not even a century’s worth of trail blazing would allow him to come close. As such he mostly kept cordial relations with you.

The youngsters of the bunch on the other hand, never seemed to realize the sheer magnanimity of the danger you held and always hung around you.

Particularly that Caelus. The newest addition to the crew. The stellaron within him always pulsed in some sort of giddiness and excitement whenever you were around. The boy couldn’t help but be a nervous wreck when he was around you. Stuttering and stumbling was a common occurrence whenever you so decide as to just breathe at his direction.

You knew what those Stellarons are, their nature, their purpose, the way they were created. In fact if you wanted to, you could have taken the Astral Express straight to the source of it all, your partner: Nanook.

However that would have ruined the fun of it all. So you chose to let them have their little adventures before the final confrontation.

Also because you signed a contract to not meddle with Nanook’s business in exchange for your freedom. But that was another story to tell.

“Why . . . why do you continue this farce? This utterly worthless play?”

IX’s voice rang within your ears and no one else’s. You were the only being it ever gave the time of day to. You imagine it to be the reason why insanity slowly built itself within the recesses of your head.

“You may see the entire universe as worthless . . . but I,” You breath hitched. You looked around your room. Time was frozen. Everything turned grey. You weren’t afraid of the others in the express hearing you, just that the following words you were about to spout out felt like bile on your mouth. “I suppose I’m still a bit like them in a way. I wish to see the world without its evils.”

“And destroying them. That is my first step.” You summon an orb of golden light. Stellarons. The creation of the very thing that made you loath all evil. Including yourself. You will eradicate these and then Nanook yourself. One day.

“Is that why you send those hunters out?”

“Perhaps.” The orb within your hands get covered in chains, quickly getting crushed within the metal like substance as it soon disappeared.

“Do as you wish. Just do not bother me like that imbecile.”

“I promise. I will be much worse than Yaoshi.”

IX remained silent for several seconds, no doubt regretting its decision of associating with you before adding, “. . . And do not die.”

“That one I cannot guarantee.”

Your room’s color returns, time continues. Signaling the end of two Aeons’ encounter.

Nanook, the Aeon that threatened to eradicate all that you love. All so they could have your soul once more. Within your gilded cage. Within your original body that lied dormant.

The Destruction will no longer be a path. That is a guarantee you write upon the stars when your Trail Blazing lifetime eventually comes to a close.

The stage is set, your actors ready.

All you needed was the cue.

Your gloved hand arose, pointing towards the express’s windows in the shape of a gun.

“Bang.”

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tragedybunny · 7 months

Text

Sunlight and Stars in the Sky III - Astarion X F!Reader

The third, and last, part of a little arc about Astarion's confession.

Part 1 Part 2

Astarion has confessed everything to you, to try to make your relationship real. When he discovers it isn't as easy as he thought, he's determined to make things right between the two of you.

Astarion was happy, the happiest he could remember being, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight against his chest. You cared about him and, impossibly, you forgave what he'd been trying to do to you. Snuggled into your hair, he breathed you in, wildflowers and sun-warmed forests. It wasn't what he expected at all. He'd thought you'd scream and curse him, say you never wanted to talk to him again, maybe even force him to leave the camp.

But you hadn’t. With soft words and the sweetest embrace, you'd told him you cared and would wait for him to be ready for anything more. His Sunlight, you were so good to him. And it was real now, what the two of you had, you had told him that. "Will you still share my tent?" His hand in yours, his voice caught in his throat as he asked. What if you didn't want to without the promise of intimacy?

“Of course Love,” you’d smiled warmly, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

That’s what led the two of you here, cozily cuddled together, your fingers entwined in his as you lay with your back against him. “No hunting tonight?”

“It can wait, there’s not much out there and I want all the time I can while you’re awake.” His lips brush your ear, the tiny half-elf point is a bit of a fascination of his, the way sometimes it makes you either giggle or make one of your happy little noises depending on just how it's touched. Tonight you sigh softly, you must be tired.

Astarion waits until you’re completely asleep to go out hunting, even then he’s loath to disentangle himself from you, afraid you could somehow just vanish. It still stings when he thinks of that first night you stayed in his tent, you were gone when he came back from hunting. Laying there alone in the dark, it was like he had been robbed of something he hadn’t even known he had, and he couldn’t fathom why. Later he learned you still thought you were unwanted at his side. He’d make sure you never thought that again, you were his and he was yours.

Hunting doesn’t take long, there’s really nothing about, a stray bird that found its way through the curse somehow. Once you all made it to Moonrise he’d make use of some cultists. Besides, that’s all the sooner he can have you back in his arms. Soft steps approach the tent, he doesn’t want to wake you. But something draws his attention, a sound, hushed sobs from within. Frantic that you’ve been harmed somehow, he hurries through the opening only to find you curled up on your side, face hidden in a pillow. Visibly unharmed, it's only your feelings that seem to be wounded by something. “Darling, are you alright?” Settling next to you, he hesitates before reaching over. Is this what he’s supposed to do? Or do you want space? His hand hangs in the air far too long while he tries to decide.

You shift and he loses the opportunity, sitting up a little to rub your eyes and try to hide your tears. “I’m fine, nothing to worry about.”

Awkwardly, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “You can talk to me. Please?” That’s what couples do, they talk to each other, but you’re holding back, and his doubts are starting to claw their way into his mind.

His eyes meet yours and the sudden realization knocks the air out of him. It’s him, he’s the reason for the tears. How he can see it, he doesn’t know, he’s sure all the same though. But still, you force a little smile for him. “Astarion please, I promise it’s fine.”

It would seem it’s your turn for pretty lies, and he wants to go along with it with all his heart. Let it go, wait for it to pass, bury it and never look back. But that wound will stay there, unresolved, festering. With a shaky hand, he cups your face gently. “Love, please, I…” He doesn’t know what more to say, so he lets you go and hangs his head. Perhaps he's not meant for this afterall.

“It’s just…a lot to take in. And it hurts to have been lied to.” Even with your eyes still watery, you’re so gentle with him. Far too gentle.

Arms move, reaching for you, but he stops, unsure if you'd want the comfort of the one that brought you pain. “I thought we were alright.” He hurt you, his Sunlight, his Darling, his Love, and everything in him wants to run, to get away before this all can go even worse, before he has to hear you say you've changed your mind.

“We will be,” you say, voice worn from crying.

Hells, he can’t let you do this again, be the strong one, put yourself to the side for someone else. Moving closer, he cautiously wraps his arms around you, still not knowing if it's what you want. “I’m sorry. I was so afraid, I didn’t think about hurting you.”

Returning his embrace, you nuzzle into his neck, an affectionate gesture he couldn’t even conceive of a few days ago, and now he’d die a thousand deaths to keep feeling it. “I know, I’m not mad.”

“Gods, perhaps you should be. At least if you took it out on me, we’d be even.” Astarion gives a shaky laugh, plunging ahead despite his doubts, because you’re still there, still holding him even after everything.

You answer with a peculiar little snort-laugh, a sound he’s never heard from yoy. For a fleeting moment he ponders how many more little facets of yours he’ll get to learn about in the time that he gets with you. “Please, if I yelled at you, you’d sulk for days.”

“I said we’d be even Darling, not that I’d take it gracefully.” Kissing the top of your head, he smiles, grateful you’re playing along.

“In that case,” you sit up and give him a serious look, which is immediately undercut by the grin you're suppressing, “you’re awful, you have bad hair, and you’re a messy eater.” You gesture to the recent puncture wounds in your neck for emphasis.

His jaw goes slack and he puts a hand over his heart in mock shock. “I didn’t realize you would be so ruthless about it. Why, if I still could, I would walk into the sun and burn myself out of pure heartbreak.”

Both of you dissolve into laughter and he scoops you into his lap, lingering giggles dying away as he covers your lips with his. “There, we’re even.” Your head comes to rest against his chest as his fingers trace small circles on your back.

“In all seriousness, Love, I need you to talk to me. I don’t know how to do any of this, give me a fighting chance.” At the last word, his voice cracks in a way that he abhors, not only does his pride shudder at the thought of breaking in front of you, he still wants to be the strong one right now, to give you that.

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Turning in his arms, you kneel in front of him, eyes locked to his, hands on his shoulders.

There’s a different kind of intimacy to this, to looking you in the eyes and giving you the truth without obfuscation or embellishment. His first impulse is to look away, but he resists, keeping his gaze steady. Hands come to rest on your waist, a look of peace crossing your face at his touch. “With all my heart, Sunlight.”

Lips press to his, fervent but not demanding of anything more. With a swift motion, he pulls you down into the blankets, causing you to gasp in surprise. “Astarion!” You try to sound exasperated, but sigh happily as he wraps himself around you. “I’m glad we talked about this, thank you.”

“I mean, I am incredible in every other way, of course I’m a wonderful partner. Now I believe I am owed one overly-sappy term of endearment or I’ll be deeply hurt.”

“My Starry Sky.” The silly little nickname has a way of making everything inside him flutter somehow, but the way your voice was right now, soft and affectionate, warm, like a home he didn’t know he had, he’d die if you asked him too. Or at least strongly consider it.

After pulling some of the scattered mess of covers over the two of you, lips brush yours one more time , and you tuck your head under his chin. Exactly where you belong.

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader #x reader #my writing #my fanfic

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hyperactively-me · 9 months

Note

OMG! please more of King Ghost🙏🏻🤤🥵

i gotchu babe.

Being the spare princess of the kingdom never really bothered you much. Really, it was your four older siblings that had much more responsibility than the rest of you. Seventh out of ten in line for the throne? No, you were never destined for the throne of your own kingdom. It’s why you were not all too surprised when your parents informed you that you would be wed to a man in a neighboring kingdom. Although, they never specified which one…

You have been prepared to wed nobility since you were a child. You were trained to act like the perfect, prim and proper princess. Countless hours of teaching you to be the “perfect wife” transformed you into the “perfect” wife, but that never meant you enjoyed a second of it. When you’re a child, you don’t really question everything your parents do. As you grew older, the more you held a certain disdain for the hours of the day dedicated to this training. Day after day, you would learn proper manners, how to sew, play the piano, paint and draw. You were taught the duties of a wife, to care for your husband, to bend to his every whim and wish, to depend on him, and only him. You hated it, loathed it, but it was what you had to do. You had no other choice.

Thankfully, your parents did not neglect your education, although they had some…select pieces of history taken out of your studies. The best tutors in the kingdom were called upon the palace to educate you and your siblings. When you were a child, you were too busy focusing on your teachings and playing to notice the tension in the air, or how you and your family remained unharmed while the kingdom’s village suffered from famine, war, and civil unrest. Your male tutors had deemed some portions of history to be “too violent, too descriptive” for a “young female noble” as yourself. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know about select parts of history when you were older. You didn’t even realize that you didn’t know all that you thought you did later on…

You knew that you were to be sold off for marriage when you were a teenager. To whom, well, that was a mystery. Until recently.

Ghost. King Ghost. Ruler of the Kingdom of Kastron, slayer of any who dares cross him. A skilled and ruthless killer. A machine on the battlefield, a stoic and cold leader.

. . .

“What do you mean?” you blurted out, incredulous.

“It’s been planned for some time now. You’re his betrothed, whether you like it or not, and that’s final.”

You ball your fists, resisting the urge to scream and cry. Instead, you turn your head up high, your brows furrowed in anger as you shoot a glare at your parents.

“I will never marry a killer.”

“You’ll be thankful, one day.” Your father adds, shuffling his papers that he was oh so focused on.

Anger grasped at your throat. You were breathing hard, couldn’t see straight. You felt you had no other choice than to run. So you did. You ran, down the endless hallways, down the stairs, and out into the gardens. Your heart was caught in your throat, a sob building up in your chest as you slowed to a stop. Crumpling into yourself, you grasp your arms, hugging yourself as you try not to sob loudly. It’s what you were born to do, after all. Be the blushing bride.

Oh, he can come, you thought. But you would do everything in your power to make him run and to never take you as his bride.

. . .

Today was the day King Ghost would arrive at your palace. You hoped he would be discouraged by your attitude, enough to see your blatant disgust and leave. You vowed to yourself to make his life more difficult, minute by minute, before he arrived.

Your maids had dressed you in one of your finest dresses, painted your face with makeup, and styled your hair in a flattering manner. You tug at the sleeve of your dress haphazardly, a frown etched on your face.

You didn’t want to see the bastard standing at your doorstep, high and mighty with the stupid helmet he always wore, according to the rumors you’ve heard.

But, alas, here he was. Standing in front of you. A hunk of pure iron armor. Surprisingly, his armor was simple. It wasn’t adorned with precious jewels or carvings. Just simple, smooth iron. A large silver sword was sheathed at his side, the handle a pure black obsidian adorned with a single diamond on the crest of the handle.

The air was thick with tension as you stared at the foreboding creature in front of you. For a moment, you couldn’t move. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you know his gaze was piercing right through you. Your heart beat fast in your chest as you moved into a bow at his feet, disgust rising in your throat.

When you stood, you forced yourself to lock eyes with where you think his eyes are. Your gaze is fierce, unwavering as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Your majesty,” you began. “What a delightful pleasure it is to meet you.”

Your words rang hollow, your interest in his presence glazed with venom.

He stands, stiff as ever, before bowing ever so slightly towards you.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says gruffly, taking in your appearance for a moment before turning his attention to your father. A shiver runs up your spine as the cold iron seems to fill the room with a certain degree of hostility.

“Come,” your father beckons towards Ghost, urging him to follow him down the palace hall. “We will begin dinner shortly.”

King Ghost does not bother to acknowledge you as he stands by your father. You turn around, rolling your eyes, beckoned by your mother to follow them. Lovely. Wonderful first impression.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #hyperactively me

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luveline · 2 years

Note

if you want, maybe roan is just like doodling around and stuff yk and she draws a typical like family pic but eddie notices that beside the both of them there’s another messily drawn figure and it’s the reader :( <3

HELL yeh ty baby ♡ fem!reader

Eddie's a good dad. Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise, he's good at this shit, and if Roan wants to go get burgers every Friday he's gonna take her. His daughter deserves the world.

Including greasy, messy quarter pounders from Benny's diner.

"What's that one?" Eddie asks, pointing over Roan's half eaten plate with his pinky finger at her drawing, the table between them covered in crayons from her open pencil case.

"This? This'a doggy," she says, like it's obvious and he's the worst.

"I knew that," — he did not know that — "I meant want kind of doggy."

"Oh. That's our dal-dalm-damnation!"

Eddie grins at the idea of a dalmatian named damnation. Fucking sweet. "Dalmatian, babe." He wipes his fingers in a napkin so he can lean over and pick sesame seeds out of her hair and off of her little sweater. "I thought you wanted a St. Bernard. The rescue dogs with the medicine around their neck, you remember?"

She points at the dalmatian's side where she's drawn a cross in red crayon. "He is a rescue dog."

Eddie hums appreciatively and picks up his burger again. But the time he's finished Roan has moved onto a clean page. She sits there tap tap tapping her crayon against the corner.

"What do I draw?" she asks.

Eddie grabs his napkin. "You didn't give me a look at the first one!" he exclaims, stacking her plate on top of his.

Roan struggles. Her sketchbook is a simple plain workbook from Bradley's with thin paper, but the size of it is still heavy in her small hands. She turns back to the page she'd just been decorating and brandishes it against her chest proudly.

"Holy sugar, that's awesome," he praises, and means it. "Is that Princess Peony?"

"The damnation is saving her," Roan says.

"I can see that."

He reaches under the table for his backpack. Inside, he carries around all the bare essentials necessary for successful kid outings — spare clothes, Teddy the pink bear with one ear, a hair brush, hair ties, her rain mac. And, the most important thing, wet wipes.

"Alright, c'mere. Let me wipe that face."

Despite contrary instruction, Eddie walks around to sit on her side of the booth. He does hands first, then crayons caught in the crossfire, then her face. She hates it, but when she was a baby she loathed it. He takes her scowl as an improvement.

"Why don't you draw... Maybe, a new family portrait? We can put it on the fridge like the first one. You can even include your damnation, if you like."

"He isn't real, dad."

"Just draw what's real, then. Can I trust you while I go get drinks?"

She makes a haughty little face that he takes for an eye roll and leaves to get drinks, though he's not really leaving. He's about ten feet away from her at all times and he keeps his eye on her.

He only looks away for what can't be ten seconds, and she's gone. His heart skips as his eyes scour the diner.

"Dad?"

Eddie flinches, his coke tipping over the side and down his hand. "Oh, sh- sugar," he says, kissing his fingers dry. "Babe, you scared me."

Roan stands at his knee with her drawing in hand. She wields it up at him insistently.

"That's for me? Swap?" he asks, offering her a small glass of juice.

Roan takes the juice in one hand. Eddie quickly takes her drawing so she can use both hands, watching the pride as she shuffles carefully back to the table. She doesn't spill a drop.

Eddie shakes out the drawing and sips his coke. The edges are ragged along the top where she's torn it free.

Front and centre is Roan. She's drawn herself with big long eyelashes and a full head of curls, total dad-win, in a huge cloud of pink he assumes is her very best princess dress. To her left is Eddie, same head of curls, long lashes amiss but a huge smile on his face, and to Eddie's left is Wayne. He looks especially dapper, a coffee mug in hand.

It's a great likeness.

And then there's you.

Your hair, your favourite shirt. Roan has drawn you with lovely eyes and a heart next to your smile, messy but so obviously you.

He beams like a fool as he sits down next to her again. She's already turned to a new page in her blook.

"Roan, this is amazing. And... That's Y/N."

"Duh," she says.

"Duh," he repeats, dumbfounded.

He wonders what he's supposed to say here. Telling her you aren't part of their family wouldn't be true. Telling her you are might set a precedent you aren't ready for. He worries it over for a while and takes despondent swings of coke, listening to Roan scribbling furiously beside him.

"Done!"

Eddie looks down. He gawks.

"Baby, is that..."

She points with her crayon enthusiastically. "Tada!"

"It's a castle," Eddie says carefully.

"That's where a princess gets married."

"And that's..."

"That's Y/N!"

There you are. Smiling, a bouquet of blue, red and yellow flowers on bright green stalks in hand. A prince stands beside you in a suit with a bright red scribble across his chest like a sash. The prince also has long, curly hair.

"Where are you?" he asks.

Roan points at a purple blob with black hair in the background. "I'm the flower girl."

Eddie throws his arm over her small shoulders and drops a firm, smacking kiss against her round cheek. "That's where you're wrong, bub. You'd be right next to me, my best girl."

She giggles infectiously at him, his words and breath tickling her face.

"Dad, don't be stupid. It's s'posed to be a man with you."

"Make an exception? Just this once it can be a girl. Pretty please?"

She smiles at him. It's a much older expression than she should have, like she's entertaining his fantasy, like he's the kid. "Okay, dad. I will be the best girl."

Later, when he tells you the story, you get super indignant. His stomach turns to a pit as he worries he's overstepped, but you say, "How is that fair? I want her to be my best girl."

"Maid of honour."

"What's the difference? You got her all this time completely by yourself, and you're not gonna share her on our wedding day?" Your voice drifts off as you dissapear into the bathroom, though he can hear you muttering, "Ridiculous."

He hides his electric blush with a pillow over his face. When you return, you climb half on his chest and force the pillow away to dot spearmint kisses against his pinked cheeks.

more eddie and roan (and reader!)

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie and roan #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

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adoregojo · 1 month

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★- haunted by the trails of you.

a/n: here's some more angst i had in drafts and now I'm setting it free. wanted more pain but this what yall are getting for now d: (potentially getting a part two)

summary: their first anniversary without you, and you'd still be haunting them. !! gn reader!! characters: isagi, reo, rin. warnings: men. hurt/barely an comfort, the word 'vomit', blood mentions in rin's part, appear of other characters. perhaps heavy angst?

isagi: it was at his own home. for what he can fathom, isagi isn't considered as someone who's hooked on the past. at least that's what he pinned his head to. what had chronicles should've been a lesson, something that'll help him move forward, a memory that'll get him through to his feet again.

once the past had been written, there was no undoing. only exceptions and take the moral out of it.

sometimes isagi wished he had tugged on that enough as much as he tugged his heart to yours.

he was about to send himself a clout. has he learned nothing? why can't he draw a clear line without the ghost of you obsessing in every corner of his life? so instead, he botches his hair to untidy navy-blue locks flying out of place, mumbling cusses to none other than himself.

He bet he looked like a madman, uttering loathes undertone within every step upon a stair he took. He swore he spotted a middle aged lady covering her son's ears in horror. maybe he wasn't muttering as low as he thought.

it was saturday, in which isagi takes a day off to greet his parents from time to time. and he wasn't gonna cancel that over some feelings he might've got the wrong end of the stick about, it was probably just lingering lust and affection he had for you, but I'll past. clinging to the mere possibility and ignoring the ache that remains for too long than intended.

swirling the keys with his bare hands, isagi can view the frigid smoke of his breath appearing with every puff he let out. the tips of his fingers and knuckles were embarrassing standing out an angry shade of red, he forgot his gloves, again ,recalling: yoichi never really had to bat an eye when it comes to gloves. he'll even do it on purpose since you wouldn't think twice before launching yours to his frosty hands, while interlocking your hands with the other one.

now that he mentioned it, he always recollect how futile of an attempt it was. because the back of his hand will always remain polar, but at that time, it didn't carried a feather. he didn't really mind freezing to death if it meant I'll be in your arms. then he'll die any day.

isagi remains stationary, until his forehead rests the irony of his house door. he didn't know if he was deeply disappointed in himself, or just drowned by the sweet bygone days. gabbling something about how an idiot he was before taking a deep lungful of air and finally opening the door.

flinging his shoes to gods knows where, at this state even his mother's berating wouldn't budge a bone in him, yeah, this is how bad it was.

to his astonishment, there were no trails of his parents. isagi called, shouting once, twice. and gave up on the third time. he jogs around to the kitchen era, like expected: a dangling note covering some plate, informing him that they went out and they'll be back before dinner.

isagi just let out a defeated sigh, an obvious pessimistic wave looming over him. he was genuinely hoping to spend a family-time right away, and something to divert him away from the wraith of you.

a part of him wondered, what answer could he hand his parents, breaking the fact that you two were no longer together. his parents always loved you, adored you even. they'd definitely be shattered, he'll just muddle it by saying that you two drew apart till an ultimate downfall drilled up a hole in your relationship, leading to a break up. they’ll buy it, right?

blindly, isagi carried out the plat, slamming it flatly against the wooden table of the living room. making himself comfortable on the couch that held on the glimpse of his childhood, it was a pleasant to be at home again, and one of a great distraction.

he needed it.. anything to sway him away from the remainder of what name of this day earned..

from the corner of his eye, he spotted a second note. scoffing at himself isagi gets a grasp on it, living on the thought it might've been his parents requesting him to do chores, or just asking him to take extra care of himself.

isagi consulted it, even when a part of him begged him not to.

‘dear, yocchan. we really hope you'll be the one to read this, but if not! hello yoichi’s partner, that's quite embarrassing if you're reading this hahaha. but anyway, we figured that today is your two anniversary, isn't that just great? We remember just yesterday they were being introduced to us for the first time. What a good time to be alive, but anyway. There's some surprise cake for the two of you to share! Happy anniversary, you lovebirds.- your mother (in law).”

‘don't get too carried away please! - your father (in law).”

isagi flouts, bitterly. so sorely that all the rock-hard grip of his hand went straight to poor paper, ripping it apart to fall into small chunks. the stomach-bug swirl, not the one with the butterflies plopping in the depths of his stomach, swarming with to define a new level of bliss. but a disgusting ache of venom mobbing, making him want to vomit in an instant.

if it wasn't for his neighbors, isagi would've outcry his lungs out of frustration. but he wasn't on the field, where his anger planted. Now it's just a sad smile etching on his features.

and maybe a drip of a few tears..

how long were you planning on haunting him for..

reo: he had to delete it.. for the longest period, reo had never been so glued on what he busted by his own hands, words and ego. he had no one to blame but himself, and yet no amount of strength that earth granted him, no matter how the sky have bore in tears gleaming the ground, a pool of agony cries pleading for him to do it.

all that and he’d still struggle to press the delete button. He just couldn't.

“man, just delete it already.” chigiri cried out, slamming his palms against the skin of his forehead. He was tired. and he wasn't even getting paid to deal with this shit.

“it's easier for you to say it, you don't get it.” reo sassed back, trudging inches away from the redhead who's eyes twitched in disbelief.

nagi and chigiri一well, mostly chigiri, have been summoned by a cry for help from their shared friend. just for the end of the world to be him trying to delete the pictures and videos of you and him, his ex that lived in his head rent free.

it was a wretched sight to see, his eyes were tearing up while scrolling through your memories together. chigiri一god’s greatest soldier, was really, really doing everything he can to encourage reo back on his feet. It was like helping a spineless creature to straighten up.

it's quite impressive, he can use all his abilities on soccer pitches, give his best assists, be the heart, the mind and the soul of the field. Yet behind the plate was a completely different person, a hopeless guy curled up in a ball of your blanket that carried most of your left cologne, and sobbing till the sunrise. and today was a special show, he was absolutely shattered because your scent was slowly vanishing.

all chigiri can do is pinch the bridge of his nose in foiling, “listen, how about we go out or something? there's a nearby place we can get lunch and-”

“they used to love that restaurant¦” reo whines, shoving his phone into the redhead face, it carried a picture of you smiling blissfully and unaware, cheeks rife with food. “they're.. cute, so cute it makes me want to die.” falling backwards on the silky duvet of the queen-sized bed.

“Please don't, I still need my monthly allowance on genshin.” the one time nagi decided to finally say something, it had to be this. and chigiri never wanted to zip up someone's mouth so badly.

“you keep on stabbing yourself in the throat, you dumbass. if you can't do it then I'll do it for you.” stretching out his arm, opening up his palms for reo to hand over the phone and get this over with already.

in an instant, the phone was being embraced tightly to his chest, “no! I can do it myself, I just need some time," Chigiri just raised his hands in surrender, mumbling a quick ‘whatever’ as he jumped out the bed, leaving the extra space for his friend to grieve, alone.

it was a miracle that his tears still remain un-parched. Every photo he scroll through, the lump in his throat narrows painfully. clinching his lips upwards every time he crossed over while you were smiling, it hurts so good. He doesn't recognize whatever the knot in his stomach was reducing in sorrow or ecstatic.

he wasn't trashing any of those, he couldn't find it in his heart too. instead of criticizing himself of what he should've said to make you stay, what could've he done to swoon your heart instead of fleeting it. you'll keep on tip-toeing around his heartstrings and he'll let you without a charge.

he squeaked in his pillow, he just kept on bruising himself, torturing himself by the dim memory of what the two of you had once. something that not even money could regain or even soothe on. he yearned for one more kiss, one more embrace, one more chance to get a glimpse of you and he'll die a happy man, that's a lie, he'll misses you even after death.

he wished for you to come and haunt him, eat him to bits. but it was like he was the one haunting the crumbs of you.

on the middle of his groaning mess, an amber eyes staring sharply at him, his figure casting a shadow over his state. “here, drink up.” nonchalant, he handed him a random juice he ‘eeny, meeny’ his way to. reo accepted the drink, his arm sluggishly taking it. chigiri swore he was about to crack the glass over his head if he wouldn't stop this pitiful little act of his.

“why are you even this hardcore sad? you were never like this in the last weeks.”

“it's their anniversary, but not anymore I guess.” nagi shrugged, still too focused on the screen of his phone to pay the slightest amount of attention. turning a blind eye when reo flinches a bit at his truthful words

“have anyone told you you're a terrible human being?”

one sip, a second one. and his lilac eyes were watering for a million time. “they used to love this drink.” he whispered.

“i genuinely hope you choke on it.”

rin: it got so bad, he talked to sae about it.. running a few years backwards, if you told the sixteen years old itoshi rin he'd be seeking his own deadbeat of a brother to vent he'd spit out in your face with no second thought.

and if he could, he would've. because rin was rethinking his life choices, taking a step back every second yet taking two ahead then comprehending once again. and now there was no going back, what was between him and the urgent fate was a wooden door.

his hands buried deep in his pockets instead of making an attempt to knock. he found gazing at his pair of shoes much more entertaining.

he didn't have it in his head to think straight, not when you clouded over like an angry storm, all he can do is take it and let your teardrop roll down his face, or maybe they were his own tears, he couldn't savvy it.

after a deep lungful of air, rin thrust his forward, just an inch away, only to stop briskly. sae? really? just how desperate is he? very. he come to cuss himself for counting you as the one and only person he apostrophizes with. if only he’d listen when you would rant about him approving his social skills, he should've listened instead plugging his ears. He wished he listened to a lot of things you said..

in a rush, the door unlocked in a swift. almost making him funk backwards, unraveling the sight of his older brother, standing unimpressed. and before rin could speak a word, sae took the lead.

“you know I could see your shadow casting under my doorstep, right?”

Rin clicks his tongue in annoyance, and when he doesn't reply, the reddish head moves to the side, and rin steers his way in. shutting the door behind him, sae jog away, letting him take off his shoes. not even a proper welcome, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

the apartment was quite tidy, a strong aroma loomed underneath his nose. Despite that, it was awkwardly dull, not even ghosts would bother haunting it. rin takes a seat in a solo couch, fumbling his fingers in a bothersome way, the silence was a deadline, not anything he wasn't used to.

It was just the first time rin had come here, by himself. without an actual family required to stick to the back.

or without you.

unintentionally, Rin's leg keeps thrusting. a bad habit of his when the tension gets thick. every passing second he berates himself even further, damn him for having only one path to seek solace in, for allowing only one soul to soothe over his frail heart, for authorizing only one embrace to delay him.

and damn you for carving open his heart. just to leave him to bleed.

the echoing steps of sae cut his strails of thoughts. settling down his cup of hot tea. rin raised a brow at the uncivil manner. “you didn't ask for one.” his brother shrugs calmly, oh he was driving him nuts with this unchanged attitude.

breathe in, rin.

reverberating voice called, so he obeys. straighten his pouster. “I wanted to talk to you about something. it's important.”

“I can tell. and your sidekick is nowhere to be found, did they finally ditch you?”

his hands clutching up in a makeshift ball, rin says nothing.

“oh, so they did?” sae blows a few times over the overheated cup, taking a sip then uttering something under his breath. “Well, that's unfortunate.” adding another cube of sugar as he retorted.

rin only got something out of this, that his brother didn't give a single fuck. and it drove him to the edge.

“You can at least pretend that you care.”

“never said I didn't.”

“you didn't have to, it's fucking showing.” rin seethed, his clenched hand striking the table balance, making the sugar cubes fall out of place. his anger was collapsing even the sweetest floras.

that doesn't nuge sae the slightest, but makes him frowns his brows a bit, because he was the one who had to sweep that off later.

the tension was solid and bulky, and Rin refused to break eye contact with the equal hues. Daring him to say something, anything. Yet he took it as a challenge, like he always does. The only way he communicates with sae is by beating him, proving himself. He'll die on that hill, even if it killed him itself. even if it has killed you already.

he knew this was a stupid idea, he should've just rotted in bed, he should've kept on living in the repeated circle of misery. He should've just lived up with every rush of breeze rustling his mistakes over and over, where he could've sworn that it was your voice.

breath, rin.

he was fucking trying.

“So what do you want me to do about it? be your wingman and pair you together again?”

“or, you could just say nothing. listening is enough.”

after a moment of silence, sae shoulders ease up. a guster pointed for him to keep going. so rin dose, he rants and rants like he had the time of the world right in his palms. It was mostly about you, how you were something that became his everything, how he should've stopped you like he wanted to, how he let you be driven away like he always does, how he should've apologized like he was supposed to.

blustring about ‘what the if’s’ and what would've happened if he just.. he loved you like you loved him.. if only he tried. he can't blame it on his immense ego, his lack of communication, the digged hole on his soul that you bleeded to fill, you gave all your flesh till there was nothing left but bones.

he could've rebuilt the broken pieces of your heart, but they were too sharp to hold. He bled within every one, he was bleeding to ashes, to nothingness.

you loved till there was nothing left to love about you. you drained down the hill. not even his blood could fulfill you.

his voice would crack, a dust cloud blows over his eyes, yet sae would stare at him ever so flatly. if he even dares to say disappointment. disappointed that his younger brother was just a copy past of him.

someone that kills everything he touches.

When rin has nothing left to say, sae stands up. reaching his pocket for a card that carries a name and a number. as the dark-head flipped the card between his fingers, blood-thirst eyes narrowed at him.

“a fucking therapist? are you fucking kidding me?"

“you clearly need one.”

“I don't, is this some kind of lukewarm joke?”

“stop being corny, I'm trying to help you here. if you aren't willing to let yourself feel the sense of loss, you can suit yourself out.”

and with that, sae turns his back to him. like he always does. climbing the stairs to his bedroom, leaving rin to reconsider where his actions have driven him, how beyond it threw it all.

although, he’ll never let himself feel the sense of loss. never. He'd rather be haunted by you than be alone forever, he'll be a stray till you pick him up again.

lmao wrote this with nagi plushie watching me like a hawk

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #reo x reader #isagi x reader #rin x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #reo mikage x reader

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bsd-elle · 1 year

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Thoughts on Buddy Daddies Episode 9

I have so many thoughts about this episode and it all stems from P.A works' fantastic SUBTLE writing choices.

This episode, on paper, sounds like a pretty cliche sports day episode, but they somehow managed to show us the character progression and the relationship progression between the characters.

The biggest progress we can blatantly see is Rei taking an effort to help Kazuki more.

And we can see that Kazuki reacts accordingly.

Kazuki is surprised by this development, and voices his concern.

Rei was genuinely impacted by the events in episode 7, realizing that he was pretty 'useless' when it came to raising Miri, and has taken the initiative to give a helping hand.

And what I love about that is, we know that Rei had absolutely no clue how to work a microwave or any basic cooking, so for him to automatically suggest and start making onigiri shows that either he had previously asked Kazuki how to make simple items, or two, he was more observant when Kazuki was cooking, because he wanted to be able to do more, do anything to make his little girl smile.

And it's so wonderful to see them actually bring up this plot point and continue it, rather than letting it be a one-off plot point.

They pick up on his interest to be more involved and we see him actually trying.

Knowing the unfortunate circumstances of his childhood, it's not that Rei doesn't want to help out or get into Miri's activities, but rather that he simply doesn't KNOW what to do. Doesn't know what's right.

His hesitance throughout the Episode is evidence of that, his hesitance to give Miri his riceballs.

He genuinely looks so sad, feeling like he can't compete with Kazuki's sheer talent with cooking.

His hesitance to even cheer for Miri.

Growing up in a family full of espionage and assassination, quietness and taking up little to no space must've been embedded into his system, into his psyche, and the fact that he's actively trying to be loud, to draw attention to himself, just shows the effort he's putting into taking care and raising Miri, something his father never attempted to try.

And both Kazuki and Miri appreciate his efforts.

They understand that he's trying and are so enthusiastic and receptive to his attempts.

Which is why he takes it to heart that Miri fell down because he was 'loud'.

I think, in that moment, he thought that he failed, that failure is never acceptable.

But, that final reassurance from Miri (in the cutest way possible), that he didn't fail, he didn't do anything wrong, and Miri considers them all to be a family, something he never had, something he's never known, that's all he needed to realize that, yes, maybe he'll fail, but at the end of the day, Miri is happy, and there's nothing else that matters.

The other one I wanted to talk about, which is definitely more subtle, but the progression of Kazuki and Rei's relationship is truly so beautiful.

Kazuki treasures the help Rei attempts and supports him in every way possible.

When Rei said that he wanted to make riceballs and was worried if Miri would like it, Kazuki instantly reassures him that Miri would love it.

In fact, he proudly proclaims to Miri that Rei would be making onigiri. And I'm sure that if he hadn't, there might be a chance that Miri wouldn't have been able to eat it, while Rei was clouded by his doubt.

When Miri says that she likes the onigiri and she thanks Rei, Kazuki immediately tells him, "hey, you did good, look our daughter agrees too. You're doing good and trying, and we both see that".

When Rei is drowning in his self-loathing about potentially causing Miri to lose the gold medal, Kazuki tries to reassure him and tell him that he didn't do anything wrong.

Finally, when they're walking back, Kazuki tells him that he's proud of him, that he worked hard, and you can tell that Rei really appreciated that, to know that his efforts were being accepted.

And that's why their relationship grows in such an organic manner, Rei puts in the effort, tries his best to help out to the best of his abilities, and Kazuki reassures him, let's him know about things that he would have no idea about, and vocally supports him.

And Miri, my sweet angel, with her bright personality and even brighter smile, constantly comforts both Kazuki and Rei, that she's happy, that they ARE a family.

The reason they are a family is because each one of them helps each other, is an equal part in the group.

And at the end of the day, they're just all trying their best, taking one step at a time, while the others, cheer them on.

(And this picture is the perfect symbolism of that sentiment, Rei awkwardly trying his best to smile, and Kazuki physically trying to bring him closer into the picture).

#buddy daddy spoilers #miri buddy daddies #rei buddy daddies #kazuki buddy daddies #buddy daddies #anime #manga #bd #kazuki kurusu #rei suwa #i had so much to talk about but I tried to concisely explain it even though I'm losing my mind #kazurei

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weirdmorefics · 1 month

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benedict with a younger sister who he catches at one of the parties he goes to talking to a man who has less than innocent intentions with her and she’s oblivious and just thought it would be a fun place to drink bcs that’s what she’d heard when was out at the park earlier that day

A/N- Sorry for it taking a while I really am starting to believe in the fanfiction curse. I also made up the seedy guy who had unhonorable intentions in this story just an FYI.

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

TW- Sexism

Word Count- 1,653

Summary- Benedict goes to a local gathering of artists and happens to find his darling younger sister enjoying the company of some of Benedict's unsavory friends.

Unhonorable Intentions

I am a rake. I take no shame in this fact. I am allowed to be a free spirit it is my birthright as the second-born son. No obligations no responsibility. I would loathe to be in Anthony's shoes. Though Y/n seems to have made it her mission for me to walk in his shoes tonight. What is she even doing in a place like this? Last I knew she preferred literature over the arts. Yet she hangs on a man's arm as he explains his next work. in progress that he is sure will be his Magnus opus. I glare at them hopefully sister notices my gaze burning into her side so I can continue my night as if nothing happened. However, when I glare at them I realize who the man she is talking to is and now I know there is no way I can continue my night. Unfortunately said man felt my gaze instead of Y/n and smiled and pulled her forcefully along with him.

"Bridgerton! It's grand to see you! We've missed you at the club!" Alexander shakes my hand roughly and I return it with an insincere smile. "Saw you eyeing my new muse, I regret to inform you I don't share." God, I want to gag as I know what he does with his so-called muses. Y/n smiles at being called his muse she does love it when I draw her but this man does not have honorable intentions. He and I have very different definitions of what a muse is. My idea of a muse is someone who inspires you to create, Alexander's idea of a muse is a woman to sleep with and then abandon.

I straighten back to assert my taller posture over the man, "And I regret to inform you your so-called muse is my darling baby sister." I look down at her with demanding eyes, "I do say it is time we get back to Mother. Isn't Y/n?"

She looks taken aback by my tone, "What do you mean? I just got here."

Alexanders' grin increases tenfold, "A Bridgeton! Benedict I had no idea you were hiding such a beauty to yourself! If I was her brother I'd never let her out of the house either." This man is truly revolting the artist community here is unfortunately very small and I have to find a way to remain civil.

Y/n smiles, "So you know Alexander? That's too bad really I was hoping to learn some different art techniques from him to impart to you! I had no idea you knew such a famous artist!"

I grit my teeth, "Famous now Alexander are we?"

This flusters him for a moment but he recovers quickly, "Aren't all artists famous in a different sort of way?"

I want to laugh at such an absurd response… sadly Y/n is far too naive for her own good.

"I agree wholeheartedly! Benedict is the most famous artist in our family! I'm quite jealous of his talent I must admit! It makes sense he would be at such a regal event filled with so much talent. To be truthful I overheard this soiree would have fabulous drinks on this morning's promenade and couldn't resist," she gushes over my talents and breaks my heart for not being more present in my siblings' lives.

Anthony just seemed to have it all handled, Daphne was married off, Eloise could certainly hold her own ground, Francessa was so busy with her studies, and Mother had Gregory and Hycanith under control. Even though Y/n is Eloise's twin she couldn't be any more different she believes the best in everyone and is too quick to forgive in my opinion and Alexander is taking advantage of that and I will not let that stand.

I smile down at Y/n, "Y/n you downplay your own talents no need to associate with a man whose talents consist of preying on women through false pretenses."

Her eyes widen to the size of quarters, "Benedict you can not make such outrageous claims!"

I pretend to not know exactly what she is talking about, "You mean your talents? Your poetry talent is outrageous and that's not a claim it's just a fact."

She blushes at the compliment but for some asinine reason still wants to defend Alexander. Though it seemed her brain could not keep up with the unusual compliment from me and the unflattering words I spoke about Alexander she just stuttered unintelligible anger, shock, and joy all marking her face. Alexander on the other hand was just fuming red.

"First you insult me Bridgerton then you demean poetry as a genre by encouraging a woman to write it." he snarls.

I have never seen Y/n turn so quickly and before anyone in the room knows what's happening a resounding slap is heard over all the chatter and everyone turns to the noise. Alexander's eye is twitching and a red welt in the shape of my sister's hand is forming on his face. He glares at her with murderous eyes but she holds her head high I have never seen her this determined and it makes me wonder what else I missed while she was growing up and I was galavanting around with men like Alexander.

She points an angry finger at him like Mother would when she would scold us, "Gentleman like yourself actually I wouldn't even call men like you gentleman but that's beside the point. Men like you say women are too emotional to do anything but care for the home. Poetry is all about emotion it's supposed to make you feel something like the art you make, or apparently don't make from what I just learned from Benedict's side comment. I would also like to remind you who is in charge of our country or rather what sex they are?"

All eyes are on us and Alexander looks like he might strangle Y/n with his two hands if the vein bulging out of his forehead is any indicator.

"Oh and by the way when I complimented your line work on your latest piece I was lying it was shit but you know how men can be so emotional I didn't want to hurt your feelings," she fake pouted. This is definitely not the young sister I once knew she may still be naive but she has now learned to use her talent with words as a knife.

Alexander's arm shoots to roughly grab her but I am quick to block, "I'm Alexander but we must be going. It was so nice talking to you as always. I would definitely take my dear sister's words under advisement to spend more time working on your line art." I then pull him very closely into my body and if anyone hadn't seen the previous incident they would have thought it was just two chaps hugging. I whisper, "Less time with lines of ladies and coke you might find yourself able to make straight lines. And if I ever hear you laid a hand on my sister I will kill you myself." I roughly release him and he scrambles backwards ungracefully as all eyes on him.

I link arms with Y/n, "Come on we must really be going now."

Once we make it outside away from prying eyes she quickly bursts into sobs, "Gods what have I done! I was just so angry he'd judge me just based on my sex. God, what if Lady Whistledown writes about me!" She starts pacing with her hands on her forehead and this is the Y/n I am all too familiar with, " Oh God what if Mama reads it! What if I ruin the Bridgerton name? Anthony will never forgive me!"

I clap and quickly gain her attention back, "You certainly won't be the first Bridgerton featured in Lady Whistledown and I am certain you will not be the last."

"Not helping!' She shouts back.

"No one will be mad you stood your ground… in fact, I am quite proud of you."

Her eyes study me, "Are you serious? I just slapped your friend in a soiree full of your peers."

"Anthony was more of an acquaintance," I add.

She rolls her eyes, "That is not the point!"

I sigh, "Yes, I am proud. You defended your honor and didn't need my help to do so. Though I am sure any of your brothers would be there in a heartbeat to defend it including me."

She smiles, "You're proud of me."

"I am not saying it again," I state.

she starts to repeat you're proud of me in a sing-songy voice.

"My pride in you is diminishing and my worry is growing. I think I will be around more often seems like Anthony isn't keeping a watchful enough eye on you if he let you go to a seedy event like this."

She tilts her head, "But you were at the event?"

"Exactly I only attend seedy events, though it appears now I must reform. Think of me has your second Anthony," maybe having responsibilities won't be so bad if I get to see Y/n chew out more men like Alexander.

She groans, "I don't want another Anthony how will I ever do anything fun."

"That's the point Y/n," I smile.

She groans, "I hope Lady Whistledown writes you into the story and makes you sound dreadful."

"As long as she writes how daring and smart my younger sister is we will be on good terms," I smile as she groans again at her failed attempt to get under my skin.

"Thank you, I guess," she responds.

I may be late in helping my siblings but at least they all still have some more growing to do and I plan to be there for all of it.

#bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x you #bridgerton request #bridgerton siblings #bridgerton!sister x reader #bridgerton!sister x y/n

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qawcamiz · 1 year

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flirty scara x insecured reader? like maybe self loathing themselves 😙

Glimpse — Scaramouche

Synopsis: You were nothing but an ordinary student, People never attempted to approach you, Until a certain Indigo-haired dude asked you out.

warnings: self-loathing, flirt attempts, offensive content, bullying, ooc, etc.

notes: agghsge I'm sosorryyy for being inactive 😭😭🙏🙏 I'll js fix the error tmrrrrr and if there's grammars my apologies im half asleep when i wrote this 🙂🙂

"y/n."

A voice called out from behind, startling you out of your thoughts. Veering around, your eyes locked with the Indigo eyes that were fixed on you, "Uh, Yes?" you asked, baffled.

It wasn't every time people would call out to you. In fact, No one attempt to chat with you unless they ought something. You'd probably be more surprised if someone spoke directly to you and it's happening, the person talking to you is known all over the school for their coldness and mindset. So you were kind of thrown when he began speaking to you.

"Be my partner."

Gasps can be heard throughout the room as students turn to look at the male who just spoke up, when he finished his sentence, your cheeks bloom red. It was not the statement you anticipated, especially from him, and you're kind of dumbfounded.

'He's probably just... Ugh.'

"Pardon?" you ask politely, though unsure about what his intentions are with this whole situation. "Did you not hear me? I want to be your companion for the upcoming task." He continues, giving you an expectant look which you fail to return because you're still trying to process what he'd said.

"Huh?! Scara~ Are you sure you want to be partnered with this— thing? Come on! Think twice!"

"Unless he lost to a bet?"

"Understandable."

"Right! He probably lost to a bet that's why he's asking y/n for their help, they don't even seem interested, Haha!"

"Seriously? Scaramouche and y/n? Is he just trying to get them a good grade by partnering with them?? That's stupid,"

The whispers around you grow louder as everyone starts to make fun of you for the current situation you're in.

"T-Thank you for the offer, really, But I'm certain I can work alone on our lesson," you say with an awkward smile, "Maybe you could just try asking someone else instead," you manage to say while staring into his pretty eyes.

"No way! Are they actually refusing Scaramouche?"

'What the fuck do you guys want me to do then?! You were just judging me a few seconds ago because he wants to pair up with me! And now that I'm rejecting his offer you're mad too?! Ridiculous!'

"they think rejecting him is cool! It's not like they ALWAYS get a partner, right?"

"They might reject him just for looking like this and making them feel inferior,"

"Poor Scaramouche! How can someone like them reject him?"

The students went on to talk as you tried to maintain yourself calm and steady despite all these comments, but unfortunately, all that did was cause you to start feeling a little tense. Not enough to go wild or anything. Just a tiny amount. You could still deal with the ridicule, but not enough to get furious at them,

Scaramouche grimaced at the crowd of students who were talking about you while you were staring at the floor, Making them look away,

He picked up your bag off the ground and threw it over his shoulder, grabbing your hand to pull you out of the classroom with him. You didn't resist as he dragged you outside, ignoring everyone calling after him as they watched him go.

Once you two left the room, he eventually let go of your hand and kept walking. You followed behind him, keeping your mouth shut. It wasn't until he stopped in front of you and uttered, "Apologies for dragging you here against your will, and well- drawing attention onto us," he says awkwardly, scratching his neck with his free hand as he looked around,

"Also, it's not every time I do requests. I wish to be your partner for the project. we have mutual chemistry and I believe that working together would benefit both of us," he said grinning,

You blinked rapidly a few times, not knowing how to respond to such a sincere statement,

"...You're aware that bunch of people out there desire to have you as their partner for this right? I mean I am glad and surprised that you're inviting someone like me but you don't have to push yourself!" you respond nervously, fiddling with your fingers before rubbing your hands to keep from getting too nervous.

"Look, I won't force you. You can simply say no, you're only saying that because you care about what people think, Right?" he asked.

He stared at you for a moment. Then he grabbed your chin, making you meet his intense eyes. You gasped slightly at the contact, then relaxed after a second. "Just do whatever feels right to you, okay?" He sneered.

Your face flushed again as you nodded shyly at him. He smiled lightly at you before releasing your chin and letting go of your hand,

"Okay..."

—

After a few days, You've gotten closer to Scaramouche, everyday he would go to you and walk you home, helping you study in class and even hanging out at lunchtime.

it also took you a bit to realize that you were starting to develop feelings toward him, Who wouldn't? With his handsome features paired with his cold demeanor, plus that cute laugh of his whenever he speaks, you're sure to fall in love with him sooner or later, no matter how hard you try not to.

The earlier morning he asked you to hang out with him at the park near your house so you agreed, and now you're walking with Him beside you. It was quiet between you two, as you weren't much of a chatterbox.

The silence is mostly comfortable, though you felt your heart beating faster than normal, which made you panic slightly. Why is your heart beating this fast? Maybe you're sick!

You shake the thought away, it's probably nothing... "You alright?" Scaramouche asked, tilting his head slightly as if noticing you panicking a bit before shrugging.

You nod quickly, trying to avoid eye contact, "Yea! I'm fine, Sorry, Don't you think it's gotten cold? It's not even winter yet—"

Your rambling stops abruptly as you felt his arm move across yours to hold your hand tightly. "If you wanted to hold my hand, you could've just said so, instead of making absurd excuses," he grinned at you, squeezing your hand reassuringly,

"T-That's not—" you stutter. Your ears start burning from embarrassment. You really shouldn't let his charm affect you that easily. Or maybe it was just the way his touch felt so warm and inviting?

"What's that? Do you also want to kiss me? Now aren't we getting ahead of ourselves a little early?" he smirked down at you, leaning forward until you were nose to nose,

"I didn't even say anything— I wasn't going to!" You argued back, taking a step back from him as he chuckled.

His laugh was nice to hear, "Go ahead, I might let you." He whispered in an amused tone. The smirk remained on his face as he leaned forward again, bringing his other hand to cup your cheek, "Are you blushing?" he teased gently stroking it with his thumb while keeping eye contact with you.

Your body was heating up, it felt warm and tingly from all those butterflies suddenly fluttering around in your stomach, and your cheeks felt flushed due to his closeness. It was weird and uncomfortable how he had made you feel all flustered and embarrassed. You didn't know how to respond, so you simply closed your eyes, allowing your cheek to be caressed while his breath tickled your ear,

You felt his lips brush against yours and your heart began racing again. His thumb moved from your cheekbone and rested itself over your lips before moving slightly and softly kissing them. Your eyes flew open in shock. You stood there, frozen and completely dumbfounded as your heart rate increased drastically in both speed and volume,

"There, I kissed you." He snickered down at you, his voice low and smooth. His voice sends shivers down your spine and you blush more.

You shook your head slightly and cleared your throat before smiling at him,

"Right!" That was all you managed to mutter back.

You looked back at him for a second, then averted your gaze toward the ground once more. You couldn't believe that you got kissed by someone like Scaramouche! you didn't have any idea how to react.

but, to be fair, most girls would jump at the chance to kiss him when they first saw him, so you weren't complaining.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt his hand slide down your arm to grasp your hand and intertwine your fingers. You glanced down at your interlaced hands, then back up at him in confusion, "Are you fine with this?" he asked, looking at you curiously.

"Mhm! No worries." You nodded quickly as you started to walk, but hesitantly intertwined your fingers with his, causing his grin to widen.

"But... If any chance s-someone you know strolled by— we can quit holding hands, I don't want to embarrass you in front of your friends..." you mumbled, feeling his hand squeeze yours tighter.

"If someone I know happened to catch a glimpse of us, I'd pull you extra close."

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin wanderer #genshin scaramouche #genshin x you #genshin x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scara #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer scaramouche #wanderer #wanderer x y/n #genshin #genshin impact scaramouche

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pursuitseternal · 5 months

Text

“A Yuletide Miracle:” Spawn!Astarion learns the (nsfw) meaning of the season, finding 🔥heat in the cold❄️

Spawn!Astarion x Reader | E | 3.4K

Part 1: “Yuletide in Faerûn”

Summary: A very “Grinchy,” cantankerous Astarion walks with you home on the eve of Yuletide, loathing the sights of celebration. Little does he know the surprise you have planned to make his heart grow three sizes that night, and well… other part of his undead anatomy…

Slightly inspired by “The Grinch” 🌟

CW: Cranky, festivity-hating Vampire Spawn, a Yuletide surprise that warms his undead heart, and helps him learn the true meaning of the season.

Read on Ao3 | Astarion fic Masterlist

🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️

“I do not get it,” Astarion grumbles as you walk towards your flat in the lower city. Baldur’s Gate, blanketed in snow, crisp and pure and crunching under your boots as you return from your shopping. Night has fallen, the stars are bright. Voices fill the air with music from taverns and the scent of spices wafts on the breezes. It’s beautiful, this time of year. But the enterally handsome Vampire Spawn at your side couldn’t be more glower and glum. “I mean, I have every right to be merry and filled with cheer this time of year. The nights are longer, the days are darkened, it’s a Vampire Spawn’s paradise. But the rest of this… mirth…” he grimaces as you stroll, arm and arm, past a group of carolers serenading outside of the Elfsong. “They have no right or reason to be so chipper in the dark and cold.”

You give him a tug on his arm, a good-humored and disparaging glance from the side of your eye. “Come now, music and parties and warmth and gifts…. It’s Yuletide, my love. Surely even you would love to have people thinking about you and buying you gifts upon gifts?”

He falls silent. Tense. As you make the last turn towards your little home, you walk in the silence. Just a flat, but it’s yours. Yours for the last few months since your victory over the Netherbrain. This little gift from Wyll, new Duke of Baldur’s Gate, it’s your safe haven from the sun while you both settle yourselves to find him a cure… and while you fuck each others brains out like you’re still about to maybe die tomorrow.

Old habits die hard.

But as the winds whip around you, bitter and cold, you hide your frame behind his broad shoulders. He may be chilling to the touch and undead, but at least he can block the ice of winter. And it makes him scoff. “Really? Truly, you use me as a shield? Some partner, some selfless merry cheer you spread.”

You clutch your sack and the precious contents tighter against your body, keeping it warm and safe. “I told you, my little surprise for you can’t freeze. Else, our trip to the shops will all be for naught and you’ll get nothing for Yuletide, my love.”

You draw to a stop, huddled behind his back at your doorstep. You barely hear him mutter to himself over the icy wind and the snap of the key in the lock, “So like every other year…”

Words not meant for you to hear. But they pierce your heart more than the cold and ice.

You pause inside the door, shaking off your cloak from the piles of snow that have accumulated. “Why don’t you start the fire in the study? I’ll be in, just in a moment….”

He turns, leaving his own damp cloak a pile on the ground. Like always. Messy thing. “So you can finish readying your…” he scowls, bitterness behind those crimson eyes, “…surprise? Gods, I hope it’s not some cheesy Yuletide gift.”

“Would it be so unthoughtful of me to give my lover a little something tonight?” You smirk, hiding the little satchel behind your back. “It is the eve of Yule, after all.”

He sniffs in abject derision. “If you insist on wasting our gold on something so frivolous, who am I to stop you.” He closes in on you, making you retreat against the wall of the foyer. “Just don’t expect anything grand in return… well, unless you think what I give you on a nightly basis is grand enough.” He flashes those fangs at you, smirking with all that lust and seduction that makes your legs weak to feel him between your thighs.

You cough, clearing your voice and forcing a pout on your trembling lips. “You could at least put a bow on it?” You tease, making that hungry smirk widen.

“Cliché, but if that’s what gets you going this evening, who am I to judge?” he shrugs slowly, languorously, letting his hand slide from the wall beside your head, the other cupping around your chin to bring you in for a slow and tantalizing kiss.

You hold your breath, trying hard to remember to not drop your precious cargo. He departs, one last suck of your bottom lip between his until it releases with a pop. “Don’t you fret, I’ll get the study nice and warm for you… and your,” a frown turns at the corner of his mouth, “… supposed surprise.”

“Don’t you worry, I won’t overwhelm you with too much joy or peace or love,” you comment, interjecting as he opens his mouth, “and I’ll keep the costumes and singing to a minimum.”

His mouth snaps shut, disgusted beyond measure like he swallowed bile, “Gods… I swear… I am not in the mood… Keep your festivities to a minimum, and as for costumes, I’ll have you naked, preferably…”

He trods into the study. Grumpy, disgruntled. So easy to tease. But you keep it soft. Light hearted. Knowing there was more to his cold and cranky demeanor than just selfishness.

Your mind races… would a spawn of Cazador have even had anything for Yuletide?

You busy yourself, prepping your gift, tenderly setting it on a table. The little plant seems so unassuming, it makes you smile, knowing just what it will mean to him. At least you hope.

He’s been so sour about this time of year, and your heart aches, that one little moment, that clue as to why he might just hate Yuletide.

You ready the bottle from the Apothecary; the shining golden liquid inside warm to the touch as you carry both across the hall and into the study.

He waits, the fire cheerily roaring in the grate, but he stands across the room, in the shadows. His back towards you, you can feel his tension rolling off those bunching and lean muscles as he gazes out the window into the winter night. Arms folded neatly over his chest, you see him shift as he hears you enter, but he doesn’t turn.

You wait. You watch him shifting on his toes, eyes fixed into the dark distance. Until at last he speaks. “When I was… well, before…” he speaks quietly. Pressed. Careful not to mention any names, not that he needs to. “…Yuletide was just another night, another time sent out in our bodies for the bidding, another night spent luring victims, only one that smelled more like oranges and spice and smoke.” His shoulders hunched slightly, arms holding tighter as he hugged himself tighter. “I used to dream of gifts and punch and music. Instead I got only more shame and abuse and… loneliness…”

You move, setting your items down on the small end table before you hurry to his side, your arms wrapping around him tightly.

“Yuletide never came for me. I was always alone… and in darkness…”

“Yuletide doesn’t come in packages and ribbons and songs, Astarion,” you nuzzle your head into his chest. “And now you’ll never be alone again, my love,” you smile into the crushed softness of his doublet. “And… if you let me share my cliché gift with you… you might find yourself not in darkness any longer either…”

He eases in a split second. You look into his face, surprised and hopeful against his better judgment. “Really?” he stumbled on his words. “I -I mean I know about the not-lonely-anymore bit, thank you…”

He hesitates, crimson eyes darting to the corner of his gaze, wanting to see what you got him.

Then he sees it, turning. A little plant, leaves deepest green, a round, fleshy bud nestled in the verdant leaves. “Is that…?” he breathes.

“A Solaris,” you beam at him. “I had to pay that apothecary no small amount of coin to get it… not to mention I had to hustle his chief competitor a bit in order to really seal the deal.” You laugh at the way his face is just… innocent. Hopeful. Happy. “But for a flower that blooms with light and warmth like the sun, one day a year…”

You watch the corner of his mouth grin wistfully.

“…I figured it would make for a very merry Yule. So you could feel the light of the sun without… you know…”

“Roasting like a chestnut on an open fire?”

You giggle against the macabre image. “Yes, that.” You pick up the little vial, its golden glow pulsing. “Here,” you murmur, proffering the small glass bottle. “The key to unlocking your vampire-safe sunlight.” You reach it towards him, his palm opening, fingers unfurling for it.

“I…” he swallows. You watch his Adam's apple bob, emotional as he holds back so many feelings and words. “Thank you,” he finally relents, letting you place the vial in his cold and near-trembling palm. You watch his face, the little lines of his smile deepening as he holds the glass bottle, its warmth seeping into his chilled, undead skin.

“If it’s your first Yuletide gift in two-hundred years, I’m glad I can make it count,” you murmur, trying not to disturb the glow that seems to come from under his pale and lustrous skin.

“You’ve… found your way to… let me feel the sun again,” he smirks at you briefly, “if only for tonight.”

You simper, pouting your lips, catching his eyes with all the allure you can muster. “That’s the idea, my sweet vampire, to give you something because I love you.”

He closes the distance, eager, anxious. But you press the tips of your fingers on his lips. “Ah, ah,” you grin. “Don’t risk that elixir with one of your all-consuming, fang-filled kisses. Why don’t you… open your gift?”

For a moment, he looks nervous. Just the tip of his fang biting into his lower lip as he uncorks the glowing elixir. A slight, sweet scent fills your nose, it makes you thrill.

Almost as much as the childish smile dancing on his lips as he pours it at the base of the massive, rounded yellow bud.

Heat fills the air, a soft shimmering begins to stretch from the plant, until, petal by petal, it opens.

A ball of light perches in its center, pulsing and glowing and lighting up your study more than any fire ever could.

Light in the dark. The sun itself shining.

Astarion’s eyes are wide, his mouth open in shock. “It feels… so good,” he whispers, as if he is scared that the second he looks away, blinks his eyes, or moves it will disappear.

“It does, the sun itself for you to bask in for one day, my love…” you reply, crossing to close your window curtains, to keep the light for yourself. And because, your stomach flutters, you anticipate just what will come next. You turn, already undoing your own buttons of your tunic. Expecting him to already be naked, to be bathing his cold and pale skin in the light.

But he’s not.

He’s sitting on the settee, knees hugged tight into his chest. Just watching. Fixated on the swirling golden blossom on the table before him.

Grinning like a fool.

Still, you tug your shirt from over your head, and the Solaris’ light does warm your skin, feeling no different than the true sun. Slowly, you round to sit beside him, half naked and totally ignored in favor of your gift. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t mind. Not as you hear his little giggles in his throat, the little clenches of his body as he feels… giddy.

You scoot right beside him, the skin of your torso pressing into that linen shirt of his, and you feel him leaning back against you, his head tipping to rest on the top of yours.

His breath washes through your hair, that clean scent on his skin, always the same, always making your body hum with desire and awaken with love. Then you hear it, faintly, he hums a melody, the same carol you had heard outside the tavern. His voice is deep, sweet if imperfect. But it’s music to your ears. His arm reaches around you then, a slight jolt as he realizes he’s touching nothing but skin as he skates his fingers across your back and down your arm.

“Ahem,” he clears his throat, more sultry than surprised. “I do see you are taking full advantage of your own present, darling.”

“Maybe I’m just waiting for my own in exchange,” you simper and pout, your hand reaching to stroke up those sinews of his thigh.

His chuckle tickles the top of your head as he places a kiss there. “Well, if you don’t mind not having it wrapped in frills and ribbons, I suppose I could give it to you now, my love.”

“What need have I for ribbons when I can have you… taking me…. in the sunlight again?”

“Just like old times,” he purrs, a single hand reading around to slip into the band of your sensible breeches for winter. “It always was a pity I never got one last time with you, basking in the heat of your warm flesh and the light of the sun before that blessing of the tadpole disappeared.” He grins, fingers slipping down between your thighs, which you have already conveniently spread for him. “What a gift to share in it again, a true Yuletide miracle, my love.”

That cool touch pierces where you are hot and aching. Where you burn and blister with your own heat. A little moan escapes your lips, your hands shuffling off the thick material of your breeches, words pleading for more from Astarion. You stumble over your “P-please…” as you stand to let that fabric shuffle off your feet.

He’s just watching your writhe on his fingers, bathed in the light. Those crimson eyes unblinking and ravenous. “Feeling merry, are you?” he purrs. “Bursting with joy yet?” His voice is rife with that seduction and wicked bite that makes you instantly wetter.

“A little more effort, and I’m sure I’ll be louder than any of those drunken carolers,” you whimper, the brush of his hand unlacing his breeches presses against your mound and thigh, the pressure of his other fingers deep inside you, more numerous than before in your cunt, guiding you to straddle his lap.

You slide right over, hands braced on his shoulders, gripping into the decadently soft material of his tunic. It’s so calm, so bright, this magical sunlight on your bare back. Your hands ruck up his own shirt, an approving smirk dancing over his breathtaking face as you sweep it off his body in one pull.

The moan from his mouth, hanging slack as he feels the warmth and light on him again, it makes you quiver and thrill. “Gods,” he breathes, “to bask in the light again…” his voice is wet, thick with desire, with emotion. He shuts his eyes, head leaning back against the settee, hands finally tugging his breeches apart to let his cock free. You feel him, his hands lifting it from its confines, fingers silkenly stroking himself. A groan from your mouth, bemoaning that emptiness inside you, your own hand takes up the pressure he started to build.

“Tch,” he sucks his teeth, still reclining to savor the warmth of the light and the heat your folds on his lap, “you don’t lift a finger tonight for your own pleasure, my love.” He pulls your body flush against him, guiding his cock to run back and forth through your hot and dripping seam. Slowly, his hand presses at the top of your hip, letting your sink down just an inch or so over that blunt head. Then he sneaks you up, sliding away from your aching channel. “Perhaps I should have let you undo my laces, unwrap your present, as it were…” he shrugs, centering your body over that cool hard erection. “I can make it up to you in so many ways,” he growls happily into your lips, sucking them in to a long and tender kiss.

Your hands grip into his shoulders, his hold on your waist steadying you as he thrusts upwards. The fullness of him inside you at last, that stretching friction warms you more than the soft flow of light over your back. Eyes closing, you can almost imagine that little glad back in the Emerald Grove. That morning you woke, sore and tingling from the way you had joined for the first time.

That morning light that once warmed your bodies as you took in the sight of him completely, scars and all. That way your heart first went out to him…

But this, this is so much better. Melting as you bask not only in the heat that defies the dark and cold, but that thrumming seer of your love. His hands rock your hips, letting you shimmy and buck as he matches your every movement with those impeccable thrusts. His kiss dances with your lips, tongue taking yours in his hold, tangling and darting as you lose yourself in him.

Warm all over. Loved all over.

You feel his touch wandering, tracing to cup the swell of your ass, fingers gripping into your flesh with each ride you make on him.

And you know he is feeling that light, the same that caresses his face, illuminating those lines and freckles and ridges of cheekbone that steal your breath with their beauty every day. You break from his mouth to watch him, lips still twitching and slack as he pants and groans.

His eyelids lower, that veiled gaze watching the way your body bounces on his lap, his stare darting to watch where you take him all the way in. Where the increasingly wet slaps of your body echo to fill the little study. Where your own body burns like a furnace, fucked hard to scaling hot as your bliss blisters.

Back arching, hands clawing into the cool muscles of his shoulders, you let it all go, letting that heat on your back and the friction of his fucking wash through you, splitting you apart with your climax. His arms embrace you harder as you spasm, your hips rocking at random, your body bracing against his as your pleasure floods you and steals your every conscious thought. His muscles clench, his belly brushing against yours, his thighs beneath you hitching and tight. You feel him pulsing inside you, his voice resonating in one ear with his groans and sighs as he fills you. Your folds drenched with all the hot slick it can handle, pouring and puddling on his lap.

Vision blurring, you come to, bit by bit. Head resting on his shoulder, his own rasping, unsteady breath washing to cool the warm glow over your flesh, you nuzzle tightly against him.

And you realize, for once, his skin feels warm to the touch. Glowing and heated from the light before you and your love-making. The stillness breaks with a gentle sigh from his iron-wrought chest. Air whistles in your ear. “You win, darling,” he whispers as he places a kiss into the tumbled mess of your hair. “Yuletide can be… merry… blissful even,” he acknowledges, not a begrudging hint in his voice.

“Miracles happen, Yuletide magic in the air… I think your heart has grown three sizes tonight…” you giggle, raising your head, your cheeks flushed and body humming to feel him still inside you.

“I doubt it,” he smirks, rakish and mischievous, “but I do know of other bits of my anatomy that have had that benefit…” he grinds into you, dragging that still-throbbing cock of his around your walls. He gives you a rakish flash of his fangs before you swiftly find yourself laid out flat on your back, sprawled across the bed of the settee. The weight of his body crushes you into the soft velvet, and your body grows unbearable… hot, especially as he sucks your ear fully into his hungry mouth. He whispers, “And you say this Solaris blooms for a day… well then, darling.” He gives that wicked giggle, “you are about to have a night that is not so silent… if you know what I mean.”

“I count on it,” you purr back, lost in the brightness in his crimson eyes. “I want the most out of my gift, after all…”

🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️

🕯️I hope I got all the tag requests, thank you all for the love. I can’t wait to see what you think, dear readers 💞

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