#my dog is growling at the thunder like she can out?? thunder ?? it??
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Follow You Anywhere 7
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: back again.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
You enter your apartment. It doesn’t really feel like yours anymore. That man, that gargantuan invader, has tainted your safe space. You keep your head down as you brush by Sy. He reaches to squeeze your wrist and promptly lets you go.
You cringe as you march stiffly down the entryway.
“Thank you, officers,” he says, “sorry to trouble ya like this. You have a good one.”
“You too, sir,” one responds, “hopefully your homecoming gets a bit warmer.”
The door shuts and you flinch. You stop in the living room, shoulders sloped, head down. You can’t stop the shaking. You hear him coming as Aika sits obediently in the corner. You glance at the dog, you don’t think she can help, you don’t know that she would. She’s loyal to her owner.
Sy stalks into the front room as you cower, wring your hands in front of your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you watch his shadow as he fumes and paces around. He exhales, small mutters you can’t discern. Circling around and around then suddenly stomping towards you.
You whimper and your eyes flick up as you take a step back, eyes watery with fear. He stops, just an inch away, chest puffing with fury. You bat your lashes as you wait, for what, you don’t know. For him to do something, anything.
“How could you hurt me like that, sweetie?” He hisses.
“I... don’t know--”
“You hide from me. Scare me, like that?” His voice rises, quaking as you hear him struggling to control it, “call the f—the cops?”
He can’t keep his voice from booming. He’s so loud. Like thunder crashing down around you.
“After all I did for you, you treat me like a monster. Actin’ all scared like I’d ever hurt you!” He snarls, “I wouldn’t, sweetie, and you know it. What did I ever do to make you think that, huh?” He starts to pace again, throwing his hands out as he rants, “I told you—I'm not a bad man! I’m not! I wouldn’t hurt you!” He barks as Aika puts her head down, eyes on her own, “but you hurt me. You. Hurt. Me.”
He growls and his nostrils flare as he comes back around it front of you. You peek at him from beneath tear-webbed lashes. Your heart thrums in your ears and your chest thumps. He raises his hand and you wince as he smacks himself in the head. You cry out in horror as he does it again, each time harder than the last as he continues his angry prowl.
“Sy!” You squawk.
He snarls again and beats himself with both hands, “maybe I deserve it, huh? This is what you want. For me to hurt.”
“No, I--” you heave as a sob bubbles up your throat. You don’t like violence. You never wanted this. You just want him gone. To be left alone.
He roars and throws his fist around, hitting the flower lamp off the end table. It flies off and the cord snags, sending it shattering to the floor. You whine and put your knuckles to your lips, horrified as he continues his fit. He grabs the table next, hurling it with one hand as if it weighs nothing. The draw slips out and the continues scatter.
He spins again, puffing and panting, his face red and furious. He storms towards the opposite wall and before you can understand what’s happening, he bashes his face against it. He staggers back, grips his head and blindly stumbles around.
You stand, dumbfounded, as he falls onto the couch. He sits and hangs his head, gripping it between his large hands. He breathes loudly as he leans his elbows on his knees. Your tears spill out as you hug yourself and sniffle.
You babble as you feel something against your leg. You look down as Aika nuzzles against you. You reach down to touch her snout. She licks your palm and you turn your attention back to Sy. You’ve never witnessed anything like that. You never ever wanted to hurt him. You pity him more than anything, he seems so lost.
You suck in a breath and swipe the wetness from your cheeks. You drag your foot forward as Aika stays close. You back up and go through to the kitchen. You take a clean dishcloth from the drawer and wet it under the faucet. You’re buzzing with adrenaline. You don’t know what you’re doing.
You cross the room to Sy as his breaths huff in and out. You can see the blood on his forehead as he nears. You hesitate, furling and unfurling your fingers before you touch his muscled shoulder.
“Sy,” you say softly.
He ignores you, fingertips curling into his skull, “so stupid...” you make out the words under his breath.
You squeeze him as Aika pokes her head under his arms and noses him from below. He sits up and scratches her head. He wobbles as his foggy eyes come into focus. He looks at you, a gash on his forehead and another across the bridge of his nose. You try not to react as you offer the wet cloth.
He considers it and takes it with a sigh. He dabs at the blood on his face as he watches you. You bring your palms together, rubbing them nervously, as you bounce on your feet.
“Thanks,” he mutters as Aika nudges his hand for more pets. He looks between you and the dog, “I-- I’m sorry. I let you down. Both of you.”
He stands up and you back away, folding your hands over your chest as you make yourself small. He holds the cloth against his nose and grunts. He scowls and turns away. You don’t move as he marches to the bathroom. The door snaps shut just as Aika reaches it. You hear the lock click.
You bite your lip and slowly glance towards the entry way. You stare. You could try again but to what end. Blair wouldn’t let you back in after you brought that chaos into her world and the police won’t do anything more than blame you again.
Maybe it is your fault. Sy means well...
No, no! He doesn’t belong there. This is your life.
Aika’s paws pad down the hall and she sits by the door. She knows what you’re thinking it seems. Doesn’t matter, you have nowhere to go and no one to go to.
You pivot carefully, searching for a distraction. What can you do now? You’re too addled to sit down and work or even hide away in the bedroom under the covers. You walk a circle around the room and stop yourself. You look at the wall, a smear of blood and a dent left by his collision.
You return to the kitchen and grab a paper towel. You come back to wipe away blood. When you get most of it out, you start to clean up the rest of the mess. The lamp is broken. You put the shards in a box and leave it by the door. Then you gather up the random pens and notebook and right the table before tucking it all back in the drawer.
As you stand up, you hear another click. You peer over as Sy appears. His shirt is gone. The cuts on his face are no longer bleeding but his eyes are still blazing. You gulp as his jaw tenses.
“I’m sorry I broke your lamp,” he utters dully.
You wet your lips with your tongue, “Do you want some tylenol?”
His eyebrows arch and his cheek ticks. He nods slowly, “yes, sweetie.”
You try to smile and your mouth quivers. You retreat and go to fetch the bottle of pills and some water. When you come back, he’s on the couch again.
“Head sure does hurt,” he says as he accepts the glass and the tablets.
You hum and nod. He throws back the pills and drains half the glass. He set the cup down and leans back, once more holding his head.
“Do you think... maybe you should see a doctor?” You suggest.
“I’m fine,” he growls, “got worse over in the sh—in the war.”
You scrunch up your lips and twiddle your fingers. He drops his hands and brings his head straight. You fidget as he takes you in, his eyes narrow and his expression pained. He waves you closer, “come here.”
You stop moving. You’re completely still as you stare him. His brow lowers dangerously. You near him reluctantly, wary of riling him again.
“I’m sorry I yelled, sweetie,” he takes your hand and leans forward to kiss your knuckles, “I was worked up. I thought—I was crazy. I thought I lost you, you know? But I get it. You wanted to see your friend and she... she put her nose in our business and called in the cops, huh? Jealous, I bet.”
You blanch. That’s not the truth. That isn’t what happened at all. You won’t argue.
“Yeah,” you let him cling to your hand, “I think she was just worried because she didn’t recognise you. I’m... I’m sorry.”
He looks up at you and his lips curve, “I know you’re sorry, sweetie,” he tugs on you, “but we’re all good now, aren’t we? I got you, you got me, everything’s as it should be.”
He moves you and you let him. You know better than to break the illusion again. He angles you onto his lap and your body locks up. He hugs you to him, a hand on your leg, his other arm across your back. He purrs as he holds you close, leaning back as the tension seeps from him.
“Just like this, sug, me and you,” he grits.
🧸
You escape Sy’s embrace for the excuse of making breakfast. The task helps you keep your fears at bay though his presence looms just on the other side of the wall. Your helplessness is starting to feel like acceptance as the last of your denial dissipates. This is real. You are trapped.
You plate up a heaping plate of bacon and eggs. You scrape butter onto toast and bring it out to the table. You teethe your lip as you stand in the archway of the front room.
“Food’s ready, Sy,” you squeak.
He sits up and groans as he stretches. He stands, towering over you as he looks even broader without his shirt. Somehow you keep forgetting how big he really is.
He crosses the room and you scurry back to the kitchen. You hear him pull the chair out as you grab your leftover french toast and bring it out. You’re not very hungry, in fact you feel sick to your stomach. Still, you know you have to play along.
That sound, the one of his head hitting the plaster, keeps replaying in your head. You hate it. As much as he scares you, as much as he’s a stranger, you don’t want to be the reason he’s hurt. You stare at your plate glumly as you cut into the cold eggy bread.
“Thank you, sweetie,” he undercuts your gloom with his bright tone, “sure smells good.”
You glance up, poking at the toast with your fork, “sorry, all I had was turkey bacon.”
“S’all good,” he tears a strip in half and takes a bite.
You muster a smile and drop your gaze back to your food. You take a bite of the stale, syrupy bread. You chew mechanically, bite by bite, and choke it all down. You think of how he might react if you let the food go to waste. He paid for it after all. At least the berries add a bit of flavour.
“You should make a video today,” he says abruptly.
Your eyes flick up and you blink, “oh, uh, maybe not today--”
“Your followers will be wanting to check in, won’t they? You can’t leave them hanging.”
“Um, well, I’ll think about it later---”
“You know, sweetie, like I said, you got me through some tough days. You’re all I had out there. Who knows, maybe there’s others who feel the same, you know?” He scoops up eggs on his fork and hovers them over the plate, “and you’re special. The world needs more of you.”
“Thanks, er, I’m just... tired is all.”
“Well, you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t snuck out to the couch, huh?” He challenges.
You’re surprised by the admonishment. You wince and give a shrug, “yeah, I guess--”
“I could help ya with the video. We could do something fun. Maybe... we could go for a walk with Aika. She loves the wilderness. Specially when there aren’t bombs hidin’.”
You look down guiltily. You don’t blame him for wanting out of his old life. For being so excited to be away from the chaos. And you feel worse because you’ve taken all you have for granted. Each time he talks, he reminds you of your ignorance.
“I guess... that sounds nice,” you sniff.
“Sounds perfect to me,” he swallows his mouthful, “walking around with my girls, showing ‘em off.” He grins, “couldn’t ask for anything more.”
#captaiin syverson#dark captain syverson#dark!captain syverson#captain syverson x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#sandcastle#follow you anywhere
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May I Present: The Ghouls as Quirks My or My Close friends' Animals Have Exhibited:
**Alpha**: Favorite game is "oh look how sneaky I am, stealing the thing you're doing/playing with so I can play with it" but gets SO mad when it's done to him.
**Omega**: Can't help but make the "stinky" big cat face when he smells something he doesn't like. He can't hide it if he tried.
**Mist**: If she touches a texture she wasn't expecting, she basically jumps out of her skin and onto the nearest elevated surface.
**Zephyr**: Despite having good night vision, has *terrible* lowlight vision, so if they see something at dusk that's unfamiliar? Instant hackles up and growling. Turns out it's just a garbage bag.
**Ifrit**: Upon first meeting someone, is all guard dog and grumpy and "Don't touch me", but once you scritch around his horns and ears, he loves you forever and will trail after you wanting more pets, tail wagging.
**Aether**: Very friendly, but if someone he knows puts on a hat or changes their silhouette in any way? Stranger Danger, who the fuck are you?!
**Dewdrop**: Must be in an hot bed, in an hot house, in an hot climate. Will steal any coals he finds to either eat or rub his face against.
**Mountain**: If he hasn't worn shoes in a while (which is usually any time outside of touring) and he has to put some on, he waggles and high steps weird for a while because he can't feel the ground.
**Rain**: Thunder and lightening or fireworks? No problem, unbothered and can sleep like the dead. Balloons in any form? Pure Evil and must be destroyed.
**Swiss**: Literally an escape artist, cannot be contained if you tried. They put a camera in a containment room to try to see how he escapes and they still can't even figure it out.
**Phantom/Aeon**: No eye self preservation. Doesn't close his eyes when water gets poured on him, will not shut them when you threaten to poke them. It's so bad that he's had multiple eye tests to see if he has poor vision, but his vision is perfect.
**Cirrus**: Got one of her nails cut down too close to the quick ONE time and now refuses to get her nails trimmed and will run or fuss if its determined she needs a trim. Has to be asleep or put under sedatives to get them done.
**Cumulus**: Is completely fine with getting a bath or shower, but hates going out in the rain. Also, to her, water is water no matter how gross it is and she WILL try to drink it if she's thirsty enough.
**Sunshine**: Will get excited and get all up in other peoples' faces, then suddenly panic and get upset that their face is too close to hers. She might snap at them because of it.
**Aurora**: Has very sensitive ears and gets very upset at loud noises, but has a hard time self regulating and the only thing that will help is the Ghoul version of a happy hoodie. Unfortunately she doesn't think she can move her neck while she's wearing it, so she turns her head like 1989 Batman.
#ghost bc#the band ghost#ghost band#nameless ghouls#ghost#aether ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#rain ghoul#swiss ghoul#mountain ghoul#phantom ghoul#aeon ghoul#cirrus ghoulette#cumulus ghoulette#sunshine ghoulette#aurora ghoulette#alpha ghoul#omega ghoul#mist ghoulette#zephyr ghoul#chair ghoul#ifrit ghoul#the ghouls as goofy little domesticated creatures is one of my favorite headcanons lol#nameless ghoul headcanons#ghost band headcanons
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My tears ricochet
Previous chapter
summary: There are thunder clouds in the horizon that threaten Eris’s chance of being a high lord. Rhys strikes a deal. The only thing left to find out now is who gets out of this deal alive?
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You have been watching the flames dance in the fireplace ever since. Blazing right in front of you. It felt as if it was a theater, and this was just a performance. One that had struck you to your core. Or maybe one that you had seen so many times that you had grown numb to it. The shouts? You no longer heard them. Turning them all out into the background noise. Making sure that all of it would blend into one unidentifiable mush.
“I will cut your eyes out," Mor howled as she trashed in Azriel’s unmoving hands. His arms too meet the anger seeping through her. Sharp nails dug right into his flesh as she hissed at her cousin, “Let go of me or else...", “Calm down, Mor." Azriel tried to reason for what felt like one hundred times that night. You could tell that he was frustrated. The spymaster simply hated showcasing his emotions. Reading him was impossible most of the time. Yet you saw the way he had glanced at Cassian even back in Autumn. A look alone clearly showed that the two were just as clueless.
“How can you just sit here?", Mor shoved at Azriel, her eyes now finding another victim. Cassian. Who had practically folded into the chair the moment everyone had returned. You had always been close. At times, you even thought that he was more your brother than Rhys himself. So his slightly shaken form didn’t surprise you all that much. “He will not agree," Rhys muttered, rubbing his hand over his face. Mor stopped for a moment before her hands found the roots of her perfectly wavy blond hair that had long lost the natural curl from all the pulling. “Have you hit your head or something?", she chuckled in disbelief. “I think it’s the or something part because, what the fuck, Rhys?", Cassian growled for the first time, his hands gripping the armrest of the chair.
“Do you trust me?", Rhys looked through the room, trying to capture everyone’s eyes, even for a second. He was hoping to pour out his hopes. Ideas. Something into his family. "No," everyone hissed in unison, making the high lord shake his head. “I couldn’t say anything because it would have ruined it", Rhys tried to justify his actions once more, only to be cut off by Mor, who once again had launched forward. “At the cost of YN?" she growled right as Azriel caught her mid-jump.
You let out a sigh. And for the first time that evening, everyone turned to you. The person all of this affected directly. “Why aren’t you saying anything?", Mor muttered angrily, “Say something?”. You knew that her intentions were good. Mother strike. You had sat with her and bandaged her wounds when she was brought back from the border. You had turned into her shadow. She had quickly become more than a cousin. She was a sister. In a way, filling up the role of your older sister. One that cruelly got taken from you.
“Can I go?", you muttered. Staring right ahead. Too tired to look at every one. To watch their faces. Their emotions. “I’m tired," it was barely a whisper as you pushed your chair back. You felt their eyes on you. And only now did you understood that they had no idea what was set into motion. “My darling," Rhys muttered, but you only gripped the note that had sat in your palm for the entirety of this circus that had been happening. "I will meet you at breakfast," you muttered, “Have a calm night.”
Eris didn’t sleep at all that night. While he had spent the nights after his father’s death cooped up in his chambers, tonight he couldn’t stand the idea of being anywhere near that house. It held too much power over him. Too many memories of pain and suffering still lingered. He could swear that parts of Beron still lingered there, and while on other nights Eris could battle that, tonight wasn’t that night.
The two dogs stiffened by Eris’s legs. Low growls filling the silent forests. But the high lord didn’t open his eyes. Simply scratching the hound's ears - a clear sign that they didn’t have to worry about anything. Because he wasn’t worried about anything. “You look like shit," A little smile crept onto Eris’s face as your voice echoed. Followed by the rustling leaves beneath your feet. “Thank you; I can only say the same about you," he mustered teasingly. “Your eyes are closed, asshole," you huffed, stepping from beneath the branches to fully come face-to-face with him.
“Did you read through it?", with the question, Eris’s eyes snapped open, piercing right through you, even in the dark. You simply nodded your head. You had just gotten back and were angrily undoing your corset when a piece of paper fell out. Your initial thought was to ignore it. That was most likely just a grocery list you had forgotten on your venture earlier in the day. But the more you looked at the brown paper, the more you felt the urge to look at what was written on it.
“Thoughts?", Eris crossed his arms over his chest. Assessing your every move. Every reaction. This too, in a way, was a test. One of his own. "Diabolical," you smiled at him before shaking your head, “Want me to keep going?”. Eris only rolled his eyes, his hand coming up to rub at his chest. "Fine," he shrugged. But that fine stirred something deep within you. It wasn’t all that simple. And the answer wasn’t easy to give out. Especially to a man like Eris.
“You can be executed for shit like this," you tapped at your temple, letting the tiredness of today sink in finally. Or maybe it was the fresh autumn breeze that practically screamed for a cozy blanket and a nap. Not a midnight meetings. “Oh, would you look at that?", Eris muttered, clearing his throat with a cough that he tried to hide. “You care about me, little bird?" he asked, moving his eyebrows suggestively. “Get over yourself," you huffed, reaching out for the black pup that had been nudging your leg all this time. “I would be the first to claim your head.", you threw Eris your best angel smile, making the high lord laugh. “And hang it in your room so you could look at me," he whistled in delight. “More like shoot arrows at," you cut in quickly to correct him”, before adding, “We do it my way."
Eris shook his head immediately, “We won't." You shot him a daring look, but Eris didn’t seem phased by it. “Then no," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Y/n," Eris growled. "Eris," you mimicked his tone in return. “Compromise? Have you ever heard that word woman?", he huffed angrily, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Not when it comes to you," you chirped back.
“You are so fucking..." he had started to say as another cough slipped past his lips. “Lovely, I know," you finished happily, but Eris didn’t return your smile. He turned back as another cough made his shoulders seize. A strange feeling ran right through you. Watching him lean against the tree... "Eris," you called out, not sure what was happening. He raised a dismissive hand, but you weren’t about to leave him like this.
"Eris," you muttered, stepping past the two whimpering hounds that suddenly, truthfully, looked like two terrified puppies. “Hey, what’s going on?", your hand touched his shoulder. It felt as if he was on fire. And not in the autumn male way. It felt as if he was burning from within. "Eris," you hissed, pulling your hand away quickly. He turned his head slightly, his fingers coming up to dig at his throat. "Can't," he mouthed. Your heart instantly skipped a beat. An unknown panic filling your body.
“Let me," you breathed, your cold palms reaching out to rest on Eris’s chest, slowly letting your cold magic seep into his burning flesh. “Come on," you muttered, no longer sure if their words were directed at you or Eris. You stood like that for a couple of hearts only. Yet it felt like two heartbeats were too long. Because Eris never lost control. He was one of the males who knew how to carry himself.
“What was that?", you muttered once Eris’s heartbeat evened out. The high lord tilted his head towards the starry night, letting out a deep sigh, "nothing." You huffed at his unbothered tone. "Nothing, my ass! You were choking," you huffed, pulling back, nearly tripping over the dogs, eagerly waving their tails now. “It’s nothing," Eris claimed once more. You watched as he slowly moved his head in circles, followed by his shoulders and hands. As if stretching. As if he had now filled out his own body. I was uncertain as to where the limits lay. “Eris Vanserra", your warning tone made Eris finally look up at you. You could see him contemplating his words for a moment. His eyes drilled into you as he no doubt ran through the worst scenarios. “The magic hasn’t settled yet," he said so casually, yet it pretty much knocked all oxygen out of your system.
"What?" you muttered in disbelief. There’s no way because... “I'm not fully in control," Eris admitted as he flexed his fingers. “I know what that means." You frowned, “It’s just... they can kill you," you whispered, but Eris didn’t seem to worry about it that much considering that his laughter filled the space between you two.
“The joy you must feel," he chuckled, reaching out for his hounds. “Don’t joke about it," you frowned. Hate it or not. Death was not something you would wish for anyone. Even if that person was Eris, "Careful, I might start to think that you care." His blazing eyes found yours, taking you off guard for a moment. “Get over yourself, Vanserra," you rolled your eyes, gathering your skirts up as you turned back from him.
You had barely made it down the stairs the next morning when someone caught your hand, pulling you through the door of the closet study. “I have a plan," Mor muttered breathlessly. The dark circle under her eyes was a clear evidence of her sleepless night. "Mor...", you muttered. Rhys had called you into a meeting that same morning, but you had chosen to ignore his offer. You didn’t want to miss the sunset, and the river bank was way more to your liking than your brother’s office. “No, listen to me," she said, grasping both of your hands. “We will hide you. We’ll get one of the high lords involved”. She rambled on, but you quickly shook your head, “Did you talk to someone outside our family about this?" A slight panic ticked deep within you. She looked up at you in confusion but quickly shook her head in response, “Good, Mor, no one can know about this." Now it was you who had pulled her closer. “Do you understand?", “This is bullshit," she huffed, pulling away from you.
"Mor," you pleaded, but her distress was way too strong by now. “You can’t go. I won’t let you go”, she continued her rant, pacing the room. "Sweetie," you said, moving in front of your cousin, taking her hands in yours. “You’ve seen the scars. You’ve seen...", she muttered, her eyes slowly filling up with burning tears. You reached up to cup her cheek. Offering her a soft smile because no words were going to make this any better. “That man has no soul; Satin has nothing against him," Mor hissed through gritted teeth, right as you wiped the angry tear away from her cheek. “Maybe he hasn’t met Satin yet”, you muttered under your breath, resting your forehead against hers.
“What about the borders? There have been breaches”, the booming voice sent shooting pain through Eris’s scull. It had been the fourth meeting that day, and if his patience was thin in the morning, now the male could barely find any fragments of it. “I already sent out another handful of soldiers to monitor the outskirts," he said, trying to keep his cool. His people deserved better. Way better than what his father had given them. Autumn could be a court like the others. Not full of scum and drunken lords.
“When will the payments roll in?", another angry tone echoed through the hall, and Eris all of a sudden regretted offering the merchants to join the meeting. “I’m looking through the scrolls," Eris said through gritted teeth. Yes, he had stopped the money flow because, with his father’s death, a lot of the men who had drained this place to the last drop had planned on running away with their pockets full of coins. “People are starving," another claimed. “Beron would have sorted it out by now," someone added which had Eris frozen in an instant. Eyes scanning the crowd till they land on the male who had just slipped up. The high lord pushed his chair back, clapping his hands on the table. "You," he pointed an angry finger at the order farmer, “Who do you think you are?" The anger deep within Eris bubbled. Why was it so fucking hard to earn respect? Why did every move he made meet with so much resistance and always mention that monster?
"I...", the male muttered. "I... I… crapped your pants already?", Eris clipped. “I’m your high lord, and you yap at me like I’m nothing," his voice echoed now. Drowning out the crowd of people who had gone dead silent. His anger flared, fires burning so brightly that the vax started to drip, drip, dripping down onto the floor. “Forgive me, Your Majesty." The male had pulled his hat out, now clenching it right against his chest. “What do you need? Coins?", Eris reached into the side drawer, scooping down a handful of silvers before throwing them at the man. The metal clicking against the stone floor was now the only ringing sound. The old man had been left to stand all alone. Anyone who had been throwing demands alongside him now stood with their heads stooped low at far corners of the room.
“Go ahead, pick it up," Eris gestured to the floor. "Forgive...", the man had started, his face now as white as paper and his legs shaking as he barely found his footing. “Pick. It. Up," every word came out like a growl louder than the one before. The man fell to his knees. A crooked smirk stretched onto Eris’s lips as he reached for his sword, rounding the table. “Please… I have kids and a wife”, the man pleaded. Eyes as big as the moon. “Why not think of them before you speak?", Eris assessed the blade, running his finger along the rim. “I did... We're starving”, the farmer whispered, now almost lying on the floor as he threatened beneath Eris’s cold glance. “Pick up the coins," The high lord’s bitter tone sliced the light sobs.
“Your Highness," the male tried to plead his case once more, but Eris only let out a growl. "Pick…," but his voice died down. As if someone had cut his vocal cords. It felt like a whisper. A cold touch. Most of the candles went out in a cloud of smoke. Suppressing the scolding heat that Eirs had thrown at the hall. Then there were the cold fingers that snaked down his wrists, stilling his hand, ready to strike. Reaching for the blade.
“Let him go." It was barely audible. Eris doubted that anyone besides him heard it. But his whole body. Every fiver within perked up at the sound. “For me," it pleaded, “This is not your way." Bile rose in Eris’s throat. It wasn’t his way. This was his father’s way. His father’s methods. Pain. Suffering. Terror. The oldest Vanserra felt his face seize as fear of that monster rooting within him washed over him.
“Breathe through it," Eris turned back from the man, coming face-to-face with purple eyes staring right up at him. "Out of all of you," you ordered, pulling the blade out of Eris’s hand and pointing it at the gawking crowd. It seemed like no one had to be told twice as people rushed out, pushing one another in the process.
"You," you called out, making the farmer stop in his tracks. The man had barely made it off the floor. The sudden joy of being freed disappeared impatiently at your next words, “Pick up the coins." His bottom lip quivered. "Please," he seemed in his later years. The grays had started to show. Hands cracked, clearly from the long hours in the fields. “There’s no catch," you said softly. You handed the sword back to Eris before stepping to the side. “Pick them to buy food," you crouched, picking the silvers yourself. Reaching for the pouch at the side of your skirt to neatly place them inside, “If there’s none to buy, stop by the kitchen tonight." The farmer's eyes watched you move, too stunned to speak. “There will be food to spare here,” you smiled at him, reaching out to touch his shoulder, “Even better, stop by to eat with us. Bring your family with you."
“But miss...", the male stuttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, please. Let this be our way of settling peace. This court deserves it after all the years”, you muttered, watching the msn taking a deep breath and nodding his head at your words. “Thank you. Mother will never forget your kindness, my lady.” Bowing, the farmer reached for your hand, placing a kiss on it. You watched him hurry towards the door with his head bowed low. No doubt, still frightened.
“What the fuck are you doing?", Eris’s rough hands clasped over your shoulder as he turned you over to face him. You simply raised your eyebrow at him, “Saving your ass twice now." His nostrils flared as he tried to suppress the frustration bubbling inside. “You have no word in this house," he growled, moving to step closer. Towering over you. You could feel the heat pouring in waves from him. "Wrong”, you crooked your head back, tapping the tip of his nose, “If you want to play this game, then we are equal in this." His lips thinned into a tight lines. His jaw clenched so firmly that you had no clue how his bone hadn’t cracked. But you enjoyed him like this. Frustrated and bubbling inside. Smirking slightly, you crossed your arms over your chest, "So, Eris Vanserra, are you playing along?”
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Taglist: @hnyclover @slytherintaco @fxckmiup
#eris vanserra x you#eris x you#eris vanserra imagine#eris vanserra x reader#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar eris#acotar eris x reader
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Umbrella Paradox
Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: When visiting a local cafe shop late one night, you meet the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, but you get off on the wrong foot.
Warnings: murder accusations, mention of drug use, light swearing, slight dark humor (my first time writing something ever)
Word count: 5.5k
Read pt 2 here
The streets of New York City were desolate at this hour: few and far patrons wandered into the small coffee shop. A faint chill was in the air, but not enough to make one wear a jacket. The type of chill someone can breathe in and feel in their bones. The kind of chill that anyone from the Midwest would recognize, the tell-tale signs that a storm was coming. From the way the trees rustled to the smell of the air and even to how the local dogs, who were ordinarily quiet, began to bark and growl, all signs pointed towards that of a storm.
Even though it's known as “The City That Never Sleeps,” the city seemed peaceful to the woman who worked the shop. Today had been one of the busiest days; the order for cappuccinos never ended, and Sam was ready for it to end. For the past hour and a half, however, the coffee shop had been a ghost town, the only souls that haunted the shop were Sam and one of her coworkers who just sat in the back, waiting for their shift to end. Within the four walls of solitude, a quietness quickly disappeared as Sam heard the loud cracks of thunder. As if Mother Nature had flipped a switch, a downpour of rain seemed to swallow the small shop.
As dusk hours dragged on, the little hand on the clock crawled towards 1, and the bell above the door dinged. The words “What can I get for you?” were already leaving her lips before she looked up, but she felt like the world had shifted when she saw the woman before her.
The woman in front of Sam was close to her height; maybe even taller-it was hard for Sam to tell-and she had a scar on her left eye. It went an inch or two above her eyebrow and was three inches below her eye. She wore a black uniform resembling an EMT: buttoned-up collared shirt with two chest pockets, military creases, and tactical pants. As she approached the counter, Sam took in the top of her uniform: she had a small badge on her left collarbone that said ‘emergency medical technician’ with the symbol of Caduceus on it. On her right, read the name ‘Y/N.’ Across her shoulder, she carried a red bag that had a white Caduceus symbol stitched on it. She also had a walkie-talkie hooked onto her belt and held an umbrella.
“Espresso and potato soup.” The woman said as she stood before Sam. She had a dry tone, almost as if she was irritated that Sam had asked her what she wanted.
“Hot or cold?” Sam gently asked as she studied the woman: she had bags under her eyes and wore a stressed expression.
“What?” The woman responded with the same dry tone.
“Your drink. Do you want it hot or cold?” Sam repeated herself, losing the gentle tone and speaking with a slightly irritated one instead.
The woman asked irritatedly, “Why would I want a cold coffee? That defeats the purpose.” Sam had to fight herself not to roll her eyes at the comment and instead added up the total.
“Okay, that will be $8.75,” Sam said as she watched Y/N dig around her pockets for her wallet. Eventually, the woman pulled out her money along with three quarters and paid Sam before walking off to sit in the corner of the shop, taking off her bag and placing her umbrella on the floor. Sam placed the order for the woman and went to count the money but soon found out she was two dollars short.
“Miss, you are short two dollars,” Sam spoke with gentleness in her voice even though she could not understand why but quickly regarded it once the woman mumbled something under her breath and threw the two dollars onto the counter. Sam scoffed at the woman’s actions but began making her coffee.
As Sam finished making the coffee, her coworker brought up the soup and placed it by Sam, sparing a glance at the woman in the corner, “Just think, a little over an hour to go,” they said with a smile as they disappeared quickly into the kitchen. "It’s going to be the longest hour of my life,” Sam thought as she grabbed the soup and coffee and walked toward the woman.
“Here’s your soup and coffee. Enjoy,” Sam said as she placed the items in front of the woman, who said nothing in return. Minutes seemed like hours as the woman ate her soup and drank her coffee, and Sam was bored. The only thing on her mind was the downpour outside and the woman in the corner, though she would never admit that to herself. Y/N had been the only customer in the past–Sam quickly glanced at the clock–two hours. Out of boredom, Sam began wiping down tables, preparing for closing even though the shop closed in thirty minutes.
As if snapping out of a daydream, the woman quickly noted Sam’s action and finished her meal and drink. She got up, placed the bowl on the counter, and discarded her coffee cup. She set three dollars on the counter, spared Sam a smile–if one could call it–grabbed her umbrella, and quickly left the shop. As Y/N left the shop, a small group of teenage girls walked in, all a bit drunk, but Y/N wouldn’t tell on them.
She began walking down the street, holding the umbrella close to her as the rain continued its assault on the city. “It hasn’t rained in a month, and of course, it decides to piss it down the night I work 12 hours.” Y/N mumbler under her breath, walking a quarter of a mile back to the station. As she approached the station, she noticed something was missing. “Fuck me; I left my bag.” She grumbled as she began her saunter back to the coffee shop.
Just as she began her walk, she started thinking about the woman in the cafe. Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t find the woman attractive. She had tan skin that was undoubtedly smooth and beautiful brown eyes that one could get lost in if they weren’t careful, but she also had a guarded nature. She felt terrible for how she treated the woman; Y/N had had a rough day at work, the calls for emergencies never seemed to end, and she let it affect her mood. She was usually delightful, but the long shift had gotten to her, and she seemed to have taken it out on the poor woman. The alluring woman plagued Y/N’s mind; she subconsciously quickened her pace, hoping to make it back in time before closing to apologize to the woman.
After Y/N had left the shop, Sam stopped cleaning the tables and walked over to the counter. She smiled at the tip and happily collected it as the doorbell rang again. “I’ll be with you in just a minute,” Sam said as she made eye contact with one of the girls in the group before grabbing the bowl and taking it into the kitchen. As she left, however, she heard the faintest of a whisper, but it was there, “murderer.”
Sam has not been a stranger to the accusations from strangers since the Woodsboro murders. It seems once a week; the shop gets a patron who throws around the word “murderer” while Sam is working. At first, it bothered Sam, she would cry on her breaks and smoke more cigarettes than usual, but after a while, she became immune to it all. She acted like nothing bothered her when she was with Tara, as she didn’t want her baby sister to worry about her. But that’s all Tara did.
Tara noticed the subtle details: Sam would have puffy eyes and smudged mascara, things that would go unnoticed by the average eye but not to Tara. Then more significant things began to happen; Sam’s mood would change on a dime, she started to smell like cigarettes more often, and she had bags under her eyes. Of course, Tara rebelled against her sister, just like any typical freshman in college would do against their parents. Tara only acted out as a way to push Sam away from her. Tara’s entire life, people have left her: her dad, her sister, and her mom, who has been absent most of her life. She wanted to prove she was the problem: Tara was why everyone she loved left her. In her mind, Tara believed she didn’t deserve love and was too much to deal with, so she pushed Sam away.
But once Sam started coming home with her work clothes covered in coffee or cherry coke, Tara began to behave herself. She would order pizza before Sam’s shift would end and have a movie ready to play when she got home. Sometimes, if she felt adventurous and brave enough, she would cook a meal for the two of them. Once, she tried cooking one of Sam’s favorite meals but almost burnt down the apartment. Neither talked about it; instead just laughed over their Chinese takeout about the disaster. Tara never asked Sam about her job, as she figured it would only add to her sister’s guilt: having her little sister worry about her when she was already struggling enough to get over the trauma of Woodsboro. Instead, Tara simply showed her care for Sam through little acts they preferred. Asking each other if they were okay without words was how close they were. Sam might have gone for five years, but their bond will always be everlasting: no amount of time will ever shake their love for each other.
Sam prepared to face the inevitable and walked towards the counter, “what can I get you girls?” she asked with a polite tone and forced smile.
The girls gave Sam an unimpressed look as they pretended to look at the menu. “Let’s see here, ummmm…can I please get a latte? No, actually, how about an americano? Wait! No, I would like a mocha, please!” One of the girls stated as she twirled her hand around her finger, pretending to play dumb just to irritate Sam. Sam knew that this was going to end badly for herself, but the best she could do was force a smile, not like she’s been doing that her whole life.
After getting all their orders—which took a millennium—Sam eventually got to make their coffees. With complaints and loud sighs, the girls sat down at one of the tables Sam had just finished clearing, as the cleaning supplies were still on it. In one single motion, the girl who played dumb backhanded all the supplies off the table, crying out an “oops” as she sat down while the other girls laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up in a minute,” Sam uttered with a clenched jaw. As Sam finished talking, the doorbell chimed, but she didn’t have it in her to turn around, afraid that the girls were stalking her movements and they would see the frustration on her face, knowing they were getting to her.
“Oh, I wasn’t planning on worrying about it. I know that you know how to clean up a stain or two,” the Karen Smith wanna-be stated with an all-too-knowing smirk while twirling her hair. “How’d you do it anyway? Get away with all those murders?” She asked as she outstretched her arms when she said ‘All those murders.’
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sam voiced through gritted teeth-she didn’t have the patience to deal with this right now.
“Oh, okay then!” The girl exclaimed with a jeering expression as she bounced around in her seat before speaking more seriously, “I just thought you were that Loomis girl who murdered six of her friends and tried to kill her sister.”
Sam spoke in a tired but hardened tone, “Look, girl, I have no idea what you are trying to get at, but-” “Excuse me, may I get a pot of coffee, please?” A gentle voice interrupted Sam. She had half a mind to give the person a piece of her mind for interrupting her, but when she turned around, and the words died on her tongue. It was the woman from earlier, but this time she wore a radiant expression, and a cheeky smile rested upon her face. She rested her elbows on the countertop, leaning forward a bit.
“Yeah, just a minute,” responded Sam as she brought the coffees over to the girls. When she handed Karen wannabe her coffee, her hand “accidentally” bumped Sam’s, causing the piping hot liquid to land all over Sam, ruining her top. “Omg, I am sorry!” Even though she did not attempt to help, the girl exclaimed, “Please don’t murder Ms. Ghostface; it was seriously an accident!” At this, the girls laughed, and Sam even heard a snicker come from behind her. And sure enough, Y/N had a mischief smirk even though her eyes were choleric.
“I’m getting your cup of coffee now,” Sam sighed as she took off her apron and threw it on the counter.
“A pot of coffee, not a cup,” the woman stated as Sam gave her a puzzled look, “preferably your hottest pot as well.” Sam rolled her eyes at the statement but went and got the fresh pot of coffee her coworker had made for themselves.
Sam returned and handed the woman the pot; she didn’t bother questioning what she needed an entire pot for; as long as Sam was left alone, she didn’t care.
“Thank you-” Y/N glanced at the nametag on the coffee-stained apron, “-Sam.” She gently smiled as she spoke before swiftly approaching the group of girls.
Watching in amusement and pure curiosity, Sam stared with bewilderment as the woman threw the coffee onto the group of girls, their shrieks and screams echoing throughout the cafe. “Omg, I didn’t mean to do that!” Y/N expressed with a cheerful laugh as one of the girls started crying because her ‘perfect hair was ruined!’
“I’m going to sue your ass!” Karen wannabe shouted, standing up to wipe the coffee off her clothing.
“On what grounds? You are trespassing on private property!” Y/N laughed as she pointed towards the clock; it was fifteen past two. “Now leave before I call the cops and say that you’re refusing to leave,” with that, the girls quickly left the shop, but not without Karen wannabe scoffing at Y/N and flipping Sam off.
Y/N had placed the coffee pot on the counter and was preparing to ask Sam a question before Sam interrupted her by laughing. It wasn’t a tiny laugh; no, it was the type of laughter that has one doubled over holding their stomach type. Caught off guard by Sam’s laughter, Y/N quickly joined in.
Consequently, the coworker came up to see what the laughter was about but quickly disregarded it, said goodbye, and left. Drying the tears from her eyes as her laughter died, Sam looked around before speaking, “Thank you for that. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It was no problem, and besides, I kinda had fun doing it. Is that bad?” Y/N questioned with a worrisome look as she made eye contact with Sam.
“No, it’s not. They deserved it.” Sam joked as she looked around the shop. “I need to close up, but seriously, thank you.”
Y/N nodded as Sam walked off to the supply closet. When she returned, she found that Y/N had already begun cleaning up the mess she had made and the spilled cleaning supplies the girls had knocked over. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not holding you hostage here,” Sam joked as she walked over to the table Y/N was cleaning.
“I know, I just feel bad about this,” Y/N voiced with a sigh and waved her arm around the messy table. “I should have handled it better.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sam explained, “those girls were assholes, and they deserved a lot worse,” she finished with a laugh.
Y/N smiled at Sam, “I know. I’m Y/N, by the way,” she said as she extended her hand. Sam smiles as her eyes crinkle and accepts her hand.
“I’m Sam, but you already know that,” she replies as she slides her hand into hers. The sparks that Y/N feels when their palms connect causes her to flinch and take a deep breath momentarily. Y/N notices how Sam’s eyes snap up at hers, telling Y/N that maybe she felt it too. If Sam saw how Y/N’s eyes smiled for her and her palms began to sweat, she didn’t say it. And if Y/N noticed how Sam’s spine got the faintest chill causing her to stand up straighter, Sam was glad she didn’t say anything.
Sam pulled her hand back out of shock, her eyes darting around the room, looking everywhere but Y/N’s radiant smile. “Well then,” Sam coughed out, “we should finish up closing.” Y/N nodded in agreement, tapping her foot as she cleaned off the tables.
Occasionally, her eyes drift over to Sam, who was also cleaning tables on the other side of the cafe. It felt as though Sam was trying to put distance between herself and the EMT. It felt like she was suffocating just being near the woman; it drove her mad with anger and happiness simultaneously.
Fifteen minutes had passed before they finally finished cleaning up and preparing to lock the front doors when they realized it was still raining. “It is pissing it down out there,” Y/N stated, looking out the window. She had her umbrella in hand and her long-forgotten medical bag over her shoulder, getting ready to leave the shop before she turned to Sam, “Would you like me to walk you home?” She asked with the gentlest tone Sam had ever heard, and it almost brought a tear to her eyes. A stranger she had just met was willingly being friendly to her after hearing accusations of her being a “murderer.” She had half a mind to run in the other direction; ordinary people were never this nice to her.
“I would like that, if you don’t mind,” Sam uttered, afraid her voice would break if she spoke any louder. She was used to the cruel ways of the world now-she expected the worst but never prayed for the best. Even after all the harsh years she has dealt with, this moment with Y/N seemed to compensate for her torture.
“Let us begin our adventure then.” Y/N proclaimed as she stepped outside the door and opened her umbrella. She held the umbrella over both of them as Sam locked up the front door and pulled Sam into her side, “I don’t want you to get soaked,” Y/N expressed with a cheeky grin and loving eyes. If Sam noticed the red tint on the other woman’s face, she kept it to herself.
Sam informed her that it’s about a half-mile walk. It would take Y/N almost a mile out of her way, but she just nodded and said that’s fine. She didn’t care how long she had to walk, as she couldn’t muster a complaint with Sam by her side.
They walked the first block in complete silence; the only sound they could hear was the rain pelting down on the umbrella before Y/N spoke up, “Why were those girls accusing you of murder?” She felt Sam automatically tense up and suck in a deep breath, and it sent a dagger into her own heart.
“It’s complicated, and I don’t want to talk about it,” Sam sighed, looking down at the ground as she spoke, “Not right now, at least.”
“Okay,” Y/N said with a loving tone; it made Sam want to strangle her. Sam hated how one word made heat creep up her neck and warm her body despite the cold weather. She hated the way one stranger made her feel more loved and appreciated than anyone in her entire life ever had. And above all else, she hated how Y/N smiled at her like she was the only person in the world. Like her life meant something other than being the daughter of a serial killer.
“Why’d you do that?” Sam asked after a few beats of silence.
“Mhm? Do what?” Y/N questioned as she looked at Sam.
“Throw the coffee on those girls.”
“Oh, I did it for the shiggles,” Y/N admitted with a shrug of her shoulders and a cheeky smile.
“‘Shiggles? What does that mean?” Sam couldn’t help but laugh as the question left her lips.
“Shits and giggles, my dear Watson,” Y/N said with the same cheeky grin plastered on her face, and it took everything in Sam to look away for fear of doing something she might come to regret.
“So, were you an asshole to me earlier for the shiggles? Or was that all an act?” Sam asked as she bumped her shoulders into Y/N, slightly causing the woman to fall out from under the umbrella shelter.
“Hey! Watch it, lady! This is a vintage Prada shirt that the devil himself wore when he fought Meryl Streep!” Y/N exclaimed as she wiped the rain off of the left side of her face when she returned under the umbrella. She then wiped her hand off Sam’s clothes, earning herself a small elbow to the side.
Sam laughed at the woman’s words and actions, “have you ever seen that movie?” Sam questioned.
“No, I have not,” Y/N stated with a very serious expression but a playful manner in her eyes. Sam could not believe that this was the same woman she met earlier. “Is it bad that I think she’s kinda hot?”
“Who? Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep, or Emily Blunt?”
“Ummm, yes?” Y/N said with her eyebrow raised like she could not believe Sam had asked her that question.
Sam’s head fell back with laughter at Y/N’s response, and Y/N swore it sounded like angels were singing. “I hate you.” Sam joked with the kindest tone Y/N had ever heard.
“Nothing about my response is funny, Sam!” Y/N exclaimed with a smile followed by frantic hand movements, “Yes to all three women, no matter the context, it's just yes!”
“Hey, I’m not disagreeing with you.”
“Mhmm, you better not be,” Y/N replied as she nudged her shoulder against Sam’s, but not hard enough to knock Sam out from under the umbrella.
“But seriously though, why were you being an asshole earlier?” Sam questioned, hoping to get an actual response out of the woman this time.
“I had a bad day at work. Too many kids shooting fireworks at each other leaving them with not enough fingers,” Y/N said as she brought her hand close to Sam’s face and began wiggling them in front of her. Sam laughed and gently pushed the EMT’s hand down, letting her hand linger for a few seconds too long before she dropped it back down by her side.
“People are still shooting off fireworks? July 4th was a couple of weeks ago,” Sam stated, shaking her head as she hoped it would get rid of warm cheeks.
“Dude, crackheads are crazy. They will blow each other’s fingers off with fireworks until mid-November.” Y/N laughed, “The first call I got today was some dude who was high on PCP, for your information, who had tried to use a firework to launch himself onto the moon!”
Sam couldn’t help but join Y/N’s laughter; she found it somewhat morbid that the woman handled such a scene with mild humor. “How do you find this stuff funny?” Sam questioned with a look of amusement.
“Perks of the job; cool uniforms followed suit by dark humor,” Y/N stated as she sent a wink Sam’s way along with some playful finger guns. If Sam noticed Y/N’s eyes peaking at her lips, she didn’t mention it. “I do want to apologize for the way I treated you earlier. I was being an asshole. Is there any way I could make it up to you?”
“Yeah, you kinda were, but you’ve made up for it,” Sam said with a lighthearted smile.
Y/N just smiled at Sam in return but quickly felt her heart flutter at Sam’s smile. She had seen Sam smile their entire walk, but for the first time, Y/N had seen her smile.
It wasn’t like the forced smile she saw when she had first met the woman; no, it was a different smile. Y/N wouldn’t even classify it as a smile if the laws of nature would allow her to; she’d call it something completely different. Something that has no negative aspect, something that has no flaws, something that the evils of man can never touch. The only words that came to mind were ‘unblemished’ and ‘pure,’ but she felt shame and embarrassment as she tried to put a word to Sam’s smile. There are no words in the English language that Y/N could scream to match that smile.
Y/N was going to say something, but all the words slipped her mind. It was as if someone had flashed her with a neuralyzer, and she only remembered the captivating woman in front of her. With what little words she could muster, she simply uttered, “I’m sorry,” followed by an awkward laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck before looking down at the rain-soaked sidewalk.
Caught off guard by the sudden change in mood, Sam tried to look at Y/N’s face, but the woman refused to meet her challenging gaze. So, Sam did what any sane person would do. She slowly brushed her fingers against Y/N’s, praying to all the gods in the world, hoping one would answer her prayer. And to her luck, a God did.
Y/N slowly bumped her hand against Sam’s and gently locked her pinky finger with Sam’s. She waited for Sam to pull back, but Y/N let go of Sam’s finger after a few seconds.
At first, Sam’s heart sank into her stomach; she was getting ready to usher out a plethora of apologies before she felt Y/N’s palm against her own. It felt as if the entire world stopped for both women, but at the same time, everything was moving faster: their breathing, their eyes, their walking pace, and their heart rates. At the same time, as if their minds were on the same wave link and they shared a telepathic ability, they both looked at each other, subtly shifting their bodies to be closer while continuing their walk.
Y/N’s eyes never left Sam’s. All she could do was stare into the woman’s eyes. The kind of eyes that made thieves wonder why they even bothered to steal pieces of art. The type of eyes that Y/N longed to call home.
On the other hand, Sam did everything she could to avoid Y/N’s piercing gaze. She studied how the scar on her eye moved with her facial expressions, noted how the earlier stress lines were gone, and wondered if her lips tasted as good as they looked. She wondered if they were as soft as they looked, if she could get lost in her kisses and forget about everything else. She wondered if they would fit perfectly with her own.
Subconsciously, both women stopped walking and slowly began leaning in. They were so close they could feel each other’s breath on their lips. And if God had decided he hadn't made Sam’s life hard enough, a car flew down the road, driving through a puddle of water, causing it to soak both women. Out of instinct, Y/N dropped the umbrella to her side, causing Sam to send her a murderous glance. Sam cursed under her breath as she stared down the quickly disappearing car while Y/N tried to slow down her heartbeats. Y/N was quick to make a joke out of the situation, hoping it wasn’t too awkward between them, “well, at least your clothes were already ruined.” She said as she quickly closed the umbrella and shook herself off like a dog.
“Umm, what the hell are you doing?” Sam questioned as she gestured towards the closed umbrella.
“What? Our clothes are already soaked; we no longer need to use this thing.” Y/N stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Sam huffed at Y/N’s words, mentally slapping herself for agreeing with the woman, then she reached out and linked her arm with Y/N’s. Y/N gave Sam that same gentle smile from earlier and gestured to the sidewalk with her free hand, “Shall we?”
“We shall,” Sam laughed, bumping her shoulders against Y/N’s. Neither woman complained about the downpour of rain they were walking through, but when the loud cracks of thunder started again, they dislinked their arms and instead linked their hands together, quickly running through the rain. Between the occasional thunder, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of laughter and playful banter between the two.
Out of breath but full of life, they quickly reached the apartment complex doors and ran inside. Neither said anything at first, but when they looked at each other, they burst out laughing. “You look like a drowned rat.” Sam joked between laughs.
“Thank you, that is exactly what I was going for this morning,” Y/N said as she lightly pushed Sam. However, when Y/N’s hands touched Sam’s torso, she gently grasped Y/N’s hands and slowly placed them on her waist, moving into Y/N’s personal space. The atmosphere around them quickly changed into one full of desire and longing.
Y/N looked down at Sam’s eye, then her other one, and down at her lips before looking back up at Sam. The only thing she saw in Sam’s eyes was the same burning passion she felt, and she needed to feel something, anything from Sam. Leaning down, Y/N let her lips linger on Sam’s but never kissed her; it was her version of asking if this was okay. Y/N’s grip on Sam’s waist tightened as Sam removed her hands from hers and slowly brought them up to cup Y/N’s face. With a gentle stroke of her thumb against her cheek, Sam finally closed the distance.
The kiss is soft and gentle, unlike anything Sam has ever experienced in her entire life. She softly sighed into the EMT’s lips, releasing tension she didn’t know she had. She felt her whole body react to the kiss as if her soul told her that this was her last first kiss.
Y/N delicately kissed Sam back, worried that if she tried too hard or moved quickly, everything around her would disappear, including Sam. Y/N is so lost in Sam that she can’t even hear the loud thumping of her own heartbeat against her rib cage and ringing throughout her eardrums. The only thing on her mind was the soft stroke of Sam’s thumb against her cheek and the tender lips against her own. Slowly and reluctantly, the two separated but rested their foreheads together.
Out of breath, Y/N whispered against Sam’s lips, “When can I see you again?”
Sam let out a laugh before slightly pulling back, just far enough where she could look Y/N in the eyes and still be in her arms. “You know where I work. Figure it out.” She said as she leaned up to kiss Y/N’s cheek while gently stroking her other cheek before slowly making her way up the stairs to her apartment.
Y/N was so lost in thought that her mind only began to register what had happened when she lost the warmth of Sam. She watched as Sam slowly walked up the first few steps before calling out, “You are really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”
Sam smiled as she leaned against the railing, looking down at Y/N, “If I remember correctly, you asked me how you could compensate me for being an asshole.”
Y/N scoffed at Sam’s words but spoke with a smile on her face, “I thought you said I had already made it up to you?”
“Well, I lied. See you at the coffee shop sometime!” Sam called out with a wave of her hand as she quickly walked up the stairs. She didn’t want Y/N to see the giant smile on her place that accompanied a faint blush on her tan skin.
Y/N couldn’t help the grin that overtook her face at Sam’s words. ‘At least she wants to see me again!’ She thought as she practically skipped out of the apartment complex, leaving her umbrella behind.
This is my first time writing anything, so I apologize if this was bad. If anyone has any requests, let me know!
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Chapter 3
Scars and Souvenirs
Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.
Pairing: Sy / OFC
Word count: 2,492
Rating: PTSD episode. No graphic details but be warned.
Debbie was on her hands and knees trying to pick up all the paper clips she'd managed to knock off the desk when a boom of thunder rang out so loud it shook the windows in the house causing her to yelp and jump smacking her head on the desk. "Fuck!" She rubbed at the knot already forming as she got back to her feet.
Glancing out the window and seeing the dark storm clouds already on top of them and the rain coming down in buckets she texted Sy.
Deb: Be careful on the way home sweetheart. It's already bad out. Let me know when you're leaving. Love you.
Putting a fresh pot of coffee on and getting a couple towels from the linen closet she tossed them on the arm of the couch for when he came in because she knew he'd be soaked to the bone. It'd been forty-five minutes and still no word from Sy and the storm was in full force now. She called his phone a few times and got no answer so she called Sara.
"Hello" Sara managed to make it to the phone on the last ring.
"Is Sy still there? He's not answering his phone."
"Yea he's, um," She couldn't hide the panic in her voice. "Something happened and.."
"What happened? Is he ok?"
"He started screaming and acting weird. He's huddled in the corner in the laundry room and he starts thrashing and yelling everytime I try to get close."
"How long?" She asked, already gathering stuff she knew she would need.
"About an hour," Sara admitted reluctantly.
"Unbelievable!" She growled. "I'm on my way."
It took another forty minutes to make what should have been a fifteen minute drive because of the storm. Trees were down over the roads, some streets completely underwater but she finally pulled into the drive and wasted no time running inside. "Where?"
Sara jumped when the door burst open and Debbie came in, dripping wet and tossed a bag on the floor. Sara pointed the way to the laundry room and watched because Sy wouldn't let anyone approach.
Debbie saw Aika laying on the floor whining and whimpering looking toward the back wall. She got down on her hands and knees crawling into the room slowly, remaining low and unthreatening. She gave the dog a pat before moving forward until she caught Sy's attention. He was sweating and trembling like a leaf. His eyes were searching for something but not seeing anything. He had the thousand yard stare and it broke her heart. It was the same look he had the day she got to him in Germany.
"Captain Syverson, it's Lieutenant Calaway. We're here sir, you're safe now. May I approach to treat you?" Debbie said.
"Boz, get Boz," he rasped. "The others are dead, all of em," he sobbed.
She moved close enough to touch him. "Boz is being taken care of. Can you tell me what hurts?"
"Everything," his teeth were chattering.
He'd hit his head on something because it was bleeding sluggishly still. She grabbed a washcloth out of a clean laundry basket pressing it against the wound. "Can you stand? Let's get you to bed and get you treated ok?"
He grunted and curled up tighter, hiding his face from her. "Hey," she lightly scraped her nails over his scalp on instinct. "You're safe sweetheart. No one's gonna hurt you any more."
He caught her scent as she moved around him and pressed his cheek to her palm. "D..Deb?"
She looked into his eyes finally seeing some recognition. "There's my sweet boy," She smiled.
He curled around her body, torso in her lap, his head resting on her arm holding on like his life depended on it. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," sobbing.
"Austin, you have nothing to be sorry for love. Did the loud thunder trigger you?" She kept her voice soft and soothing. He nodded and she rubbed his back still hearing Aika's whimpers. "Aika is worried about you. Can she come and give you some love?"
Sy turned his head so he could see her. "Come girl."
"Not in your mom's laundry room floor baby," She joked as Aika came over and laid her head on Sy. It worked because Sy looked up at her with a half smile and shook his head. "Oh, you meant Aika."
"Is he ok?" Sara asked from the doorway.
Sy tensed at her voice and trembled again, his senses too overwhelmed to process his mom being there. In his mind he was still in Iraq. "He's starting to calm down a bit. We just need some more time."
"I'll be in the den if he needs anything."
The storm was still raging outside and every clap of thunder and flash of lightning made Sy jerk and cringed because it reminded him of bombs and rpgs exploding. She had to get him somewhere else to try and get him back to now. "Do you think you can stand for me?"
Sy's cheeks burned hot and he tried to hide his face again. "I….I had … um..I"
She listened trying to make out what was wrong. It took a few minutes of looking him over the best she could in the position they were in before she saw the dark stain on his cargo pants and realized he'd wet himself. "We'll get you all cleaned up ok? Just me and you. No one else will see."
He looked in her blue eyes and knew she was telling him the truth and not trying to trick him. "Ok."
They stood up and slowly started toward the bathroom. He was leaning heavily on her because he was still reliving his injuries and the anxiety and physical shaking had made his muscles weak. She helped him sit down on the toilet. "I brought you some clothes and your meds but I need to go to the den and grab the bag ok? I'll be right back."
"No!" He grabbed her around the waist and held her. "Don't leave!"
"Ok, OK, Shh," She hugged him with one arm and rubbed his head and shoulders with the other hand. "I'm going to call for your mom to bring me the bag. I gotta be loud for her to hear me though, ok?"
He nodded but didn’t loosen his grip on her. "Sara!"
Sara stepped up to the bathroom door. "What do you need?"
"The bag I brought with me, a bottle of water, a couple of towels and a washcloth please."
Sara quickly gathered the stuff she asked for, stopping just outside the door again. "May I open the door? "
"Slowly, please and try not to make any loud noises," Deb told her.
Sara opened the door and stepped inside getting a closer look at her son for the first time since his episode started. It broke her heart seeing his entire body shaking, sweating through his shirt and clinging to Debbie like he's drowning in the ocean and she's the only life preserver. Tears fill her eyes and she chokes back a sob not wanting to add to his stress. "How can I help?"
"We are going to get him cleaned up and then we are going to join you in the den until this storm passes. When we come in there we are gonna need a pillow from the bed and something sweet to drink. Juice, sweet tea or soda."
Sara nodded, "Food?"
"Cookies, candy and fruit would be good but if you don't mind, cut them up in bite-sized pieces. It makes it easier for him."
Sara stepped closer to Sy and reached out to touch him while he wasn’t looking and Debbie grabbed her hand before she made contact. "There are a few things to know about being around Sy when he's having PTSD issues. We will go into more details later but for now no loud, sudden movements or sounds. Alway tell him what you're doing before you touch him so that he knows it's coming." She put her hand under Sy's chin lifting his head and smiled. "Sweetheart, your Ma is going to touch you and talk to you a second before your bath." Sy took a couple of calming breaths, trying to steal himself for the touch.
Sara put her hand on Sy's shoulder and pressed a kiss to the side of his head that wasn't covered in blood. "I love you Austin." She left the room so they could continue.
Deb told Sy everything she was going to do before she did it and with time and patience she got him stripped and in the warm bath and gave him his anxiety and PTSD meds. She scrubbed him clean, treating his head wound, taking care to be soft and comforting. After about fifteen minutes of the warmess of the water and her soothing touch, her voice constantly praising and encouraging him, he started to relax and nodded off.
Sy shivered as she helped him out of the water, wrapped him in the big fluffy towel and dried him off with another. When she reached up to dry his head he pulled her against him and kissed her. "I'm sorry, sugar. I hate that you have to go through this. I'm just broken and I should have died in that hell hole like everyone else."
"Don't you ever say that again, Austin" she growled. "You Have no reason to apologize." She cupped his face in her hands as she pushed him to sit on ťhe vanity before his legs gave out. "You went through literal hell sweetheart. Your job was about as stressful as they come. You tracked down WMD's and terrorists. You were tortured and tormented and I don't know anyone who wouldn't have trauma from that. Baby you are doing amazing and I'm so proud of you."
He didn't even try to wipe the tears away as he wrapped her in his arms. "I don't deserve you but I'm so damn glad I found you."
She softly rocked him. "I'm damn glad you found me too sweetheart. I never felt complete until you." She kissed him then stepped back a bit. "You're exhausted. Let's get you dressed and you can lay down so you can rest."
Sara stood up when they came into the den. Sy looked so weak and exhausted it scared her. She'd never seen him like this. Apparently she wasn't as good at schooling her expressions as she'd hoped because Sy noticed. "I'll be ok Ma. I just need some time." He gave her a small smile as Deb helped him down on the couch.
There was a position that helped Say when he was having an episode and it was just natural for them to get into it. Deb sat on the end of the sofa, pillow under her arm and Sy's upper body in her lap facing her. Deb pulled their blanket from her bag. It was soft and comforting and smelled like her so it helped. Once he was settled she picked up the glass of sweet tea. "Drink some of this for me?"
He shook his head , "don't want it."
"I know you don't, sweetheart but you need the sugar. Drink, please." She held the glass to his lips and he took a few sips before pushing it away. "Think you can eat a bite for me?"
"No," he turned his head and hid his face in her neck. She couldn't help but smile because he sounded like a petulant child. She cuddled and rocked him softly stroking his head, back and arm. He was so exhausted mentally and physically it wasn't long before he was asleep.
Sara watched them. She was in awe of how Debbie was able to comfort him and jealous that she couldn't do it herself. "You're good with him." She reluctantly admitted.
"It didn't come easy, not for this anyway. There were many times of trial and error while he was recovering. We just finally found things that helped ground him."
"I never got that chance," She said bitterly.
Debbie's eyes shot over to Sara when she realized what was going on. "That’s what all this has been about? The way you've treated me and how you've guilted him because he hasn't spent time with you alone? You're jealous?" She was dumbfounded.
"I didn't get the chance to go to him in Germany and he didn't want me around him for eight months after he was back in the country. The only difference in that time was you. He had you."
Deb counted to ten, twice, trying not to snap. "Or it was the fact that the man was tortured and had to have surgeries to reset his bones and rehab and therapy and months of night terrors, flashbacks and no sleep. We weren't playing house and hiding trying to hurt your feelings. "
"He's my son! His family should take care of him, people who don't push him to get out in the world and be in crowds or work himself to the bone."
"That’s exactly why you aren't the right one to care for him. He has to get back to life. He can't dwell and live in the memories." She stops herself not wanting to wake Sy or say something she'll regret. "Did you ever stop and think that he distanced himself during his recovery because he wanted his relationship with you to stay pure? That he doesn't want to recount what happened to you because he knows it would permanently change your relationship. The disappointment and resentment would be to much"
"I would never be disappointed in him or resent him because of what happened," She growled.
"You wouldn't but he does. He blames himself, Sara. He's plagued with guilt, the feeling of failure and worthlessness about himself because of it and he thinks everyone else sees him the same." She sighed, "he wants to be able to visit and talk with you and not have to worry about that baggage, to not feel like that with you."
The words hit her like a bullet and it all started to make sense. How he'd talk to her every day and always check on her. He'd talk about anything except his time in the desert. She'd blamed Debbie because that's where they’d met but in reality he wanted his mother to keep her pride in him and he thought if she knew his trauma she'd lose respect for him. She'd been so busy being jealous of the woman he'd brought home, thinking she'd stolen him, that she didn't see what was right in front of her. She was pulled from her thoughts when Sy woke up screaming.
"Easy baby," Deb said, placing her hand on his chest. "You're safe love, I've got ya."
Aika jumped up on the couch and laid on Sy's legs resting her head on his hip as he drifted back to sleep. It was going to be a long night.
@shellyshellshell
@enchantedbytomandhenry
@mrsevans90
#henry cavill#syverson fluff#syverson x you#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill smut
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I'm choosing tragedy today. Can I have Yandere allies with a darling that's pregnant ( by them ). She's been trying her best to make it work with them ( but the Yanderes can tell that it's not out of love, it's out of the fact that they'll be having a kid soon ), but it's very hard for her. Soon the stress of being kidnapped and forced to do things against your will caught up to the darling. It caused her to miscarriage. They can remember that dreeded day. The darling was streaming, yelling at that it was all their fault and they had killed their baby with their sick fantasy. From that day on, the darling grew cold and bitter towards them. It's gotten to the point they hardly ( if at all!!! ) considers their existence, and it seems that they'll never let up. I need something very angst-y and depressing please.
FYI: This one is heavy. It took me almost a year to write for this one and I wanted to do it justice. So, I hope it was worth the wait.
Night’s freezing rain beat like a lover’s wounded heart against the old roof. The gentle, constant thrum mixed with the squeak of an old glider were the only sounds that filled the dark nursery.
(Y/N)’s unsteady rocking matched the wet, glazed look in her (E/C) eyes as the empty, white cradle hypnotized her.
Its somber whispers coiled around her. Reminding her of what she had lost, and what could never be. Her damaged fingernails cracked as she dug into the stained wood as the dark thoughts continued. How HE had taken the one drop of pure sunlight that had appeared in months.
A shrill creak accompanied by a harsh beam of white light broke the tormentor’s fantasy. (Y/N) didn’t react, only gliding in the cushioned chair.
Softly, he called her name. A gentle plea for her attention, reaction, anything to prove that his beloved was still alive.
The repetition of her name and pet names grew as his thunderous, slow steps grew closer. Her own frustration bubbled up in the form of dark tears. A low dog-like growl grew from her throat the closer he came.
When his hand touched the chair, stopping the sway. (Y/N) snapped.
“GET OUT!” She stood, barring her teeth. “You have no right to mourn for what you killed! For what you’ve taken from me!”
Wailing, (Y/N) continued her verbal gnashing. Letting the disgusting flood waters flow from the haunted swamp it had been trapped in.
As the tears began to shutter like the slow change of the tide, (Y/N) laid one more verbal sting. “I never loved you.” She laughed hysterically. “The only thing you were good for was being a sperm donor!”
America: The black, leather gloves wrinkled harshly against Allen’s fists. His teeth clicked as he ground them like metal gears forced to a sudden stop.
“I’m” His hand tightened on the glider.” tired of your shit!” The chair clattered and splintered as the force of the push caused it to become embedded in the nursery wall.
Gasping, (Y/N) attempted to stagger back yet Allen followed, offering her no relief. Closing the gap until they were only a hair apart. His finger bruised her breast as he jabbed into the supple flesh.
“He” Allen’s voice wavered as tears pricked his eyes like pins. “Was my son too, and for a time we were happy. You accepted me as your husband. And we WILL be happy again.”
Allen backed up; his flushed face paired with pained tears. “Just give me more time.”
Canada: Matt was silent and stiff as the words reverberated off the nursery walls like a mortuary bell.
(Y/N) watched as he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs to the point that the bandages around his chest strained to hold the powerful muscles back. He spoke with the exhale; frustration leaking into his tone like a cracked dam ready to burst.
“I understand your hurtin, Maple. But there ain’t any reason to take it out on me.”
Guffawing in shock, (Y/N) could only gasp before she began to spit her venom like a spited Sahara serpent. Numbering her woes like the course, grains of sand in a blood-red desert. Hissing as she described how each moment of forced obedience was as if he stroked her thin skin with a Cholla cactus, leaving slivers of spines and ruby rivers in its wake.
“ENOUGH!”
His roar shook the room, ceramic figurines tinkled as they rattled, and books shifted on shelves as (Y/N) was silenced mid-word.
Still, as the nursery statues, (Y/N) remained frozen as Matt stalked closer. Their eyes locked as predator and prey.
Matt’s heavy breathing fanned her paling face. Whispering, “Enough”. Scarred hands cupped (Y/N)’s face, leading her closer to him. Foreheads softly bumped as they touched. “I get it, Maple. It hurts, and that pain will never go away. But I will remain, even as you fight me, to ease that pain.”
France: (Y/N)’s eyes widened as she slapped a hand against her (L/C) lips. She whimpered like a scared child at the realization of her grave mistake.
She had dared to insult her tormentor. The man that claimed love, but instead showed obsession. A man that privately destroyed anyone that dared to injure his pride.
When François sighed, (Y/N) flinched. Muscles tense for pain and punishment, but he made no move to her. Instead, the frumpy Frenchman reached into his back pocket, seeming not affected by his wife's sharp insults.
He shuffled for a moment before revealing a box of blue and white box Gauloises cigarettes and a simple, black, Zippos lighter. With a quick flick and click, François lit the cancer stick and lifted it to his lips. Taking a long, slow drag before letting the smoke blow like a dragon’s fire.
“Cher,” His voice rumbled like a car driving on gravel. “Are you done?”
“No-o. I’ll never be done.” (Y/N) choked on her whimpers as she backed up shakily. “I’ll always hate you.”
Another sigh from François, this one heavier like a man tired of fighting an uphill battle as he made his way to her glider. The chair creaked as his weight fully settled into it.
The calloused hand with the lit cigarette was outstretched. Inviting her into his lap. (Y/N) didn’t move, only shaking further as she pushed herself against the bars of the white cradle.
“Come, to me Cher. Let’s dream of what our life could have been had our bébé remained with us.” His hand remained out, fingers and palm relaxed further. “And when you are ready, we can try again, but we will never forget our first.”
England: As her final syllable echoed off the pastel, nursery walls, Oliver's look of shock slowly morphed into something more sinister. His cool, blue eyes darkened into the pink slits of an angered Cheshire cat, while his lips rose to show off the large, sharp canines that looked ready to paint themselves with her blood.
“Now, Poppet.” He purred tightly. “Let’s not ruin tonight by acting like the last few months haven’t been wonderful. After all.” His smile sharpened. “I have quite the surprise in store.”
(Y/N) scoffed challengingly as she looked away. Her wet eyes burned holes in the white carpet as she dropped her voice down to a choked whisper. “We weren’t happy. It was a lie to keep my child safe. And now they're gone.”
Oliver’s hardened stare softened. “Not quite dearest.”
As the pastel-dressed man stepped to the left. he revealed a small child standing in the doorway. The light from the hall creating a small halo around their head. The fluffy hair on top of his little head appeared to be made of the softest strawberry-blond silk that curled at the top of his ears. His pale, freckled face was flushed red as his (E/C) eyes bubbled with unshed tears.
(Y/N) noticed that his lips trembled as his tiny hands nervously tugged at the corduroy overalls. Never looked at her, but at the floor, as he slowly shuffled away from their captor.
“Oliver, where did you get this child?”
The questioned man smiled. Though, this one was different from the tight one given moments before. This one was still large, but genuine, warm like the end of a summer day. Somehow that sent a chill colder than the winds of hell down (Y/N)’s spine.
“Poppet, don’t you recognize our son?”
Russia: As (Y/N)’s shout turned to silence; she sneered at her captor. Arms crossed and teeth bared like a starving dog in a fighting ring ready to resist any punishment Viktor would lay.
Instead of the monotone lecture and bruising grasp of his bare hands, Viktor was silent and still. His frown was slight, but his eyes told a silent tragedy. His dull crimson irises appeared darker than normal, almost lifeless by the heavy, purple bags that hung underneath them. His brown hair was unkept rather than the neat sweep of its usual style.
“Милый,” He rumbled with a deep sigh, “I, understand that I am at fault. I caused you too much stress.” Viktor moved closer to (Y/N), his heavy winter boots sinking into the plush carpet with each step. “Destroyed your health to the point your body could no longer maintain our child.”
On Viktor went, rattling off minor inconveniences as if they were deadly poisons that lead to the death of their child. Each one sent (Y/N) further back until her back smacked against the wall. Her cold hands clawed against the painted material searching for something to put between her and the mad beast.
A loud slam against the wooden wall resonated through the room as Viktor placed his hands against the wall. (Y/N) froze, trapped by the large arms of her ‘husband’. Their eyes were locked, red ones full of grief and stress while the (E/C) eyes contained only fear.
His whispers of atonement only increased her fear. Killed her belief that she would ever be free.
China: (Y/N) watched Jin’s eyes shut as he took a deep breath. Then another, his hands curling into tight fists before releasing in time with his breathing.
Like the slow ticking on a clock before a big event, his breathing eventually steadied. His red eyes opened like the heavy, iron gates of castles in eras past.
The tranquil rose-red garden that once lay within his eyes was no more. Withered and greyed flowers were what now remained inside. Almost like the weight of loss had begun to reveal Jin’s true age.
“I know, but will you still join me at her memorial?”
"Memorial?"
"Yes, Qin. Though she never made it to this plane." Jin's breath shuttered as he held back tears. "She still deserved to be honored as if she did."
He held out his hand toward her. A broken smile on his lips as he silently urged her to take his hand. To begin the process of healing.
Quietly, (Y/N) opened her mouth. No sound left her, not even the squeak of a syllable. She shook her head, licking her lips as she lifted her hand. Hesitantly placing it into his.
"Ok."
#2p canada#2p china#2p russia#2p england#2p hetalia#2p america#2p france#2p allies#2p yandere#yandere hetalia#yandere
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June Of Doom - Day 6 to 10
I’m a bit early for these days but idk when I’ll found some time to post them so, here we are, @juneofdoom‘s prompts 6 to 10 !
6 - « You're doing great »
Compared to the rest of the troop, Lucien generally acted like a spoiled baby, struggling to defend himself alone, relying on the ability of the other members of the group to ensure his survival. But gradually, he was developing certain reflexes and when Draugr were about to strike with their icy blades, the young Imperial was able to quickly ignite them with his spells. It was almost getting scary. But it made Inigo smile with all his fangs, who never stopped encouraging Lucien.
« Good job, Lucien. You did well here. You are becoming a very powerful mage. I will try to tease you less... » (104)
•
7 – Bite
Remiel smirked as she wrapped Lucien’s bleeding hand in a linen bandage.
"You told us you were good with animals, Lucien."
Lucien emitted a small cry when the Breton added a bit more pressure to the wound.
"I usually am, but I didn't imagine that puppy would try bite my hand off."
She rolled her eyes with an audible sigh.
"It was a wolf, Lucien ! Even if it seemed fluffy and friendly it's a beast, not a dog ! And it probably has rockjoint and Mara knows what other disease ! Anyway, you should ask Xel to brew you a potion." (102)
•
8 - « Breathe, damn you ! »
The ice they were walking on had been weakened by their recent horker hunt. Sinister creaks were heard under their feet. Worried, the meat-laden group quickened their pace. More creaks, followed by a surprised growl and the sound of something falling in the water, and Inigo had disappeared from their field of vision, caught by a hole in the ice. The Khajiit could fortunately be quickly fished out but he remained unconscious, and no longer breathing.
Kaidan rushed to try to ressucitate him and between abdominal compressions, whispered between his teeth :
"Breathe... Breathe Inigo, damn you!" (97)
•
9 - Sprain / Defiance
He HATED werewolves. They smell like wet dogs, are tough to kill and you can't make them dead thralls. And they run fast. Xelzaz has sprained his ankle and was limping while trying to kill the Vargs who chased him. Dodging his fireballs, one of the pack sprinted towards him and and knocked him down brutally. Xelzaz looked up at the beast towering over him, with its lips curled and fangs showing, ready to bite the Argonian's head off.
"What are you waiting for, Doggy? To drown me with your drool? Or suffocate me with your breath?", Xelzaz asked defiantly the werewolf. (104)
•
10 - « Can you hear me? »
The fireball exploded right next to her. Remiel felt the intense heat before being knocked to the ground by the force of the thundering explosion. Her body was relatively protected by the armor she wore. The Breton will undoubtedly receive bad bruises. But she felt dumbfounded. Everything was blurry, everything was distant. So far away that she couldn't hear the battle that was still raging in front of her.
After a little while, she was shook on the shoulder. Nebarra.
He had been talking to her for two minutes, yelling, "Can you hear me ???".
She didn't heard him. Nor anything. (102)
#skyrim#skyrim custom followers#juneofdoom#inigo#lucien flavius#remiel#kaidan#xelzaz#nebarra#you're doing great#bite#breathe damn you#sprain#defiance#can you hear me#hand injury#cold water shock#drowning#cpr#werewolf#hearing loss#whump
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FOAD Excerpt [4]
Wow its been a hot minute since I shared a raw snippet lmao. Progress has been steady and I’m liking what I put down. I just hit 10k words, so all in all everything’s going pretty well! I’m just having a bit of difficulty deciding what parts of this babe to take out as snippets, that’s all. In any case, I hope y’all enjoy this one!
Taglist: @flowerprose @wordwizards
•••
The moment he leaves my sight, I collapse in the nearest possible chair and cradle my head in my arms. A marionette abandoned by her puppeteer. Limp. Weak. Exhausted. Without much energy to put up a fight. At least I’m without his presence now. That brings a glimmer of relief, but… with the impression his boots left against the floor, it’s as if he hasn’t left us at all. That clicking ringing in my ears… I have to get home. I have to get home to Matthieu, I have…
A flurry of pastels pools at my side. Light fingertips land on my back.
“Emmy, are you okay?”
A sigh escapes me, perhaps more telling than the words I give her. “Okay as I can be, Cal.”
“Do you remember how—”
“No, no I don’t. Sorry.”
She tries again, this time slowly. “Remember when we were young and terrified of storms? You would cradle me in your arms and sing louder than the thunder.”
Salty tears mix with the cracks of my pursed lips. “Cal, please.”
“And the bonfires we held after school. Only us, Pierre, Ilya, Matthieu… and Arthur. The songs we sang together. How we danced together, Emmy! Remember? For our entire lives, you were my canary. Please, won’t you sing for me again? Just one song, that’s all I’m asking. For memory’s sake.”
My sister’s eyes tell tales of hope. Scenes matching the ones she’d said, but hidden ones just as much. Innocuous tunes hummed while doing chores, car rides, and simple boredom when hanging out with friends.
Arthur… Dear God, that boy would beg every day for me to serenade him. I recall taking the love sonnets he wrote me and… and singing them to the tunes of random melodies I came up with. I should be weeping at the hands of this forced reflection, but… instead, the pain slips through my fingers.
“You know I can’t, dearest. I’m not that girl anymore.”
Cal retracts her hand from mine. The light in her eyes vanishes as her knees hit the floor. “Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”
Hardly an easy sight is it to witness my little rose wither before my very eyes. Worse is to know my hands are the ones who killed her, as they have so many plants before. Unfortunately, I have no miraculous remedy. The most I can offer her is, “I’m sorry, dearest.”
Cal raises her head. Her cheeks are aflame, and the match that lit them is sparking in her smoky irises. “No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry he left you without saying goodbye. I’m sorry he took all your passion with him. I’m sorry you feel the need to drown yourself in a sea of responsibilities to escape the pain you still carry with you. Really, Emmy, I’m sorry for everything. But as your sister, I can’t take this anymore! You’re not the sister I grew up with. The one who used to laugh, dance, sing, and joke. That bold, confident figure who used to play castle with me when we were ten years old, waiting on MawMaw to finish her lectures, where is she? You don’t even play Yahtzee with us anymore! It’s like—to you, game night is just some silly old tradition we drag around like a dead goose. The way you see mistletoe, or Valentine’s Day, or—”
“Calanthia, darling, you’re putting an awful lot of words in my mouth.”
“But that’s what it is! You’re a whimpering dog cowering in briars, and you growl as soon as anyone tries to remove you from it. Or even point out the fact that you’re stuck.”
“I’m sorry, since when did my sister develop a sudden tongue for poetry?” I scoff.
Cal falls to her knees, gripping my hand in a hawk-like movement that accentuates the gentle urgency paining her expression. “I don’t care what you do, but you need to get closure. I want to see you happy again, Sissy. Not just hear you say it. I want to see you having fun. I want to hear you sing again. Life is more than textbooks and word documents.”
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lucy's having a shit day dndnsnsn. she wanted to go check out the Big Obelisk and realized she can only get thru all the wreckage by using the subway system, so she fights through some feral ghouls and surfaces in georgetown - she Hates fighting supermutants and is fairly scared of them bc they always seem to be better armed/trained/more aggro than she is - and now there's a supermutant master on top of a big building with a missile launcher.
so she runs from them into the subway system heading towards the mall after catching like 25 rounds in her ass from one of their mini guns. okay. can't go back because there's supermutants there, can only go forward and hopefully find somewhere to deal with the copiously bleeding bullet wounds. a feral ghoul roamer scratches her up pretty good, and then there's Fucking Talon Mercs all of a sudden when she gets back out to surface level. and then it starts raining. and thundering, which is the first time she's experienced thunder and she is Terrified of it.
one of the mercs grabs her and wrenches her arm pretty bad (it's the same arm that got fractured in the vault escape) before dogmeat jumps on him, and then she dives into cover as best she can and runs right into willow, who helps her in dealing with the other two (willow barely gets a chance to grill her for it before she rushes inside, because oh my god the thunder.) stumbles into underworld terrified, bleeding copiously, arm limp at her side and a growling dog on her heels, and then promptly passes out in front of the first ghoul who came up to jeer at her.
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Follow You Anywhere 6
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: dululand is my native country.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
You lay on your side. Tense and painfully awake. Aika’s sleeping form heaps in a shadow on the floor as you feel the body behind you breathing. Hot gusts, in, out, against the nape of your neck. A light dusting that feels like a furnace’s blast.
You keep your back to Sy as you stare at the door. It’s been at least an hour since you laid down. He inched closer and closer, but gave up as you found yourself teetering on the edge.
A snort makes you wince. You brace the side of the mattress as your eyes round. The rocky rumble continues, mellow to long calm exhales. He’s snoring. He’s asleep.
You don’t move immediately. You wait it out until the noise is raucous. Even if you had any temptation to stay, you couldn't sleep through his thunderous blare. You hold your breath and slowly sit up, watching the slumbering canine on the floor.
Aika raises her head as you rise but doesn’t move further. You slip to the edge of the bed and ease down until your feet touch the rug. You stand and she puts her head down, her collar jingling noisily. You swivel to look over your shoulder. Sy sleeps with his hand on the empty space of the bed, his other arm curled under his head.
You back away, careful to tiptoe around Aika. As you get to the door, she remains as she is and so does her owner. You slip into the front room and let out your breath. You turn to face the darkness. You’re not going far. Maybe the dog senses that.
You pull a pillow against the arm of the couch and nestle atop the cushions. You can’t close your eyes. You’re too anxious. You just lay there staring at the shadows of your apartment.
Your eyelids droop little by little. Fatigue mutes your fear and your body slackens atop the couch. The noise of occasional traffic and the street drift in and lull you. You let your mind go black and descend into a shallow sleep.
You give a start as you feel yourself falling. Your head snaps up and your eyes flutter open as you squeak. You’re not falling, you’re being lifted. You blink as you look up at the silhouette of Sy’s thick beard and his body heat seeps into you.
“Huh,” you let out the confused hiccup as you squirm against him.
“What’re ya doin’ out here, sweetie?” He growls as he carries you back into the bedroom.
“I... couldn’t sleep.”
He grumbles, the only acknowledgement of your excuse. He takes you to the bed, lowering you with him as he settles on the mattress again. Aika’s on her side, sleeping and unaware. He puts you on your side and pushes his body flush to yours as he wraps his arm around your middle. He holds you close, nuzzling your crown as he sighs.
“Mmm, isn’t that better?” He purrs, “I never been so calm as I am with you, sug.”
You gulp and make yourself nod. His words come off more like a threat a suggestion that he isn’t always this calm. You've seen him toe that line, how he’s always just barely restrained. How long can that last?
“You’re so warm and cozy,” he rocks you slightly, “night, night, sweetie. Get some sleep.”
You utter a ‘good night’ in return if only to assure him of your compliance. You’re brief respite only underlines his incessant clinginess. He always has to be near, always has to know what you’re up to. You suspect that isn’t new to him, not that it matters how long he’s been watching. Days, weeks, or months, it can’t undo the present.
You close your eyes as they sting. You won’t fall back asleep, not in his arms. You’ll just lay there and wait for the few inches of freedom you get with the sunrise. It’s all you can do.
🧸
As the morning shines in, your head pounds and your body aches. You’ve been locked in Sy’s arms all night, still as you can be. You don’t want to risk waking him again. When he’s asleep, you don’t need to worry about what he might do.
Aika rouses first. She licks her paw until she’s bored then starts a restless tip tapping by the door. You figure she needs to go out but you don’t move. The click of her pclws finally disturbs the snoring behind your ear.
“Aika, give me a minute,” Sy rolls away and yawns. “Swear that dog is better than any alarm clock.”
He sits up, hunching over as he rubs his eyes. You glance at him over your shoulder as he jostles the bed. He gets up and searches out a tee shirt, pulling it on above his dark gym shorts. He tidies the stray shanks jutting out from his bear and smiles as he meets your gaze. You quickly look away.
“I’ll take her around real quick. Why don’t you get some coffee going?” He suggests.
You fall onto your back and push yourself up. You fold your arms as you make yourself look at him. You feel fractured. You’re about to break.
“Sure,” you answer with a smile.
“Good girl,” he winks and snaps his fingers at Aika.
The dog prances out ahead of him and you watch him follow. You don’t stand until you hear the front door. You rush out and find the apartment empty, heart racing as your eyes scour the place. Your keys have gone with him. The fleeting idea of locking him out fizzles away.
You pause and search for your phone. You don’t know where it went. He must’ve taken it. You return to the bedroom and grab a hoodie out of your dress. You pull it on over your pajamas and scurry back to the front door. You step into your slip-ons and slowly turn the door handle.
You inch the door inward and peek into the hall. You can’t do this anymore. You won’t play along. You should’ve done this yesterday. You chalk it up to shock. You were too surprised to think clearly but this is your chance.
You creep out into the hall and down to the door diagonal from your own. You knock, realising it might be a bit too early. You wait, swaying as you check over your shoulders. If he comes back and catches you...
You knock again as no answer comes. You try not to let the panic down you as it swells higher and higher. Finally, Blair answers the door and you look at her frantically.
“Please let me in,” you plead.
“Um, is everything okay?” She asks.
You don’t know her very well. You spoke a few times in the laundry room and exchanged tight-lipped smiles in the hallway. She looks as scared as you feel.
“Please,” you peer down the hall again, “there’s no time.”
“Alright, uh...” she backs up, “come in. Sorry, I--” she pauses to stifle a yawn, “had a late night.”
You enter her apartment and wring your hands. She closes the door and you exhale. You face her and bounce on your toe nervously.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s early, but... can I borrow your phone?” You ask.
“Sure, but what’s going on? Are you alright?”
You consider her question. You frown, “I don’t know.”
Her eyes gleam with worry and she nods. She shuffles past you and disappears into the next room. You go back to the door and twist the lock. You peer out the peep hole but can’t quite see your own door.
“Here,” Blair comes back and you spin around.
“Thanks, uh... I... just need to make a call,” you reach for the phone and look down at the screen. It's an old flip phone.
You don’t know if they’ll listen but you have to try. At least then you can say you did. You dial and put the phone to your ear.
“Emergency services, what’s your emergency?” The operator greets flatly.
“Hi, uh...” you glance up at Blair, “there’s an intruder in my apartment.”
He jaw drops and you give an awkward expression.
“Ma’am, are you in the apartment?” The voice on the other end asks.
“No, um, no, I’m at my neighbour’s but this man... he uh, he’s been following me and now he’s in my apartment. He’s been there all night and I asked him to leave but he won’t.”
“Alright, ma’am, I understand, I’ll dispatch and officer to your location. Please do not return to your apartment.”
You give your address at their request and hang up. You hand Blair her phone back and she takes it with a tremble. She clutches it to her chest.
“There’s someone in your apartment?” She asks, her voice brittle.
You nod and look around. Her place sure is cluttered. It smells like cinnamon and old paper. Books on books, shelves crammed with figurines, and boxes in stacks. It’s not dirty, just really full.
“Yeah, well, he’s coming back,” you say as you chew your thumb and turn back to the door. Once more you go to look through the peep hole.
You stay there, watching, waiting. You see Aika first. She’s off leash. She sits outside the door as Sy catches up and lets himself in. The door shuts behind him and you hold your breath. A few minutes past, what feels like years, and the door opens again.
He hollers your name and his voice shakes you through the door. You clap your hand over your mouth and keep your eye through the lens. He paces towards you then back the other way. He continues to call your name. He marches back into the apartment and slams the door behind him.
“Who is he?” Blair startles you as she stands shoulder to shoulder with you.
You back up and look at her, “I don’t know.”
“How... how does he know your name?”
You shake your head and whisper, “he found me. Online. I don’t know what to do. He just... won’t leave me alone and I can’t get him to leave.”
Her mouth opens, “oh? Wow that’s... scary.”
You nod vehemently. It’s terrifying.
“I never... I never had a man do that. Follow me... they don’t really talk to me,” she says. “I’m happy they don’t.”
Your heart knots and you move away from the door, “it’s okay if I stay until the police show up? They told me to.”
“Uh, sure, if you don’t mind...” she trails off and looks around at all her things.
“No, no, it’s okay. Thank you.”
“Do you want some green tea? My head hurts.”
🧸
The pounding on the door alerts you to the cops just outside, but they’re not at Blair’s door. They’re knocking at your apartment. You go to look through the hole as your neighbour nurses her second cup of tea. You watch one cop’s shoulder, the only part of them you can see.
The door opens but you can't see much.
“Hello, sir, we got a phone call,” one officer declares, “do you live here?”
“Yes,” Sy answers without hesitation, “I just moved in with my girlfriend.”
“Right,” the other officer says, “and where is she?”
Sy huffs, “I was just about to call. I took the dog out and when I came back, she was gone. I’m hoping she just went for some coffee but she left her phone.”
“Mmm,” one of the cops hums. “You serve?”
“How’d you know?”
“Old man’s a vet,” the other man says, “can spot them a mile away. How long ya been back?”
“A month,” Sy answers, “yeah, came home to my sweetheart and now... I’m terrified. What if something happened? Why didn’t I lock the door?”
You hear a slap and silence, “sir, please.”
“Sorry, I just, I'm so stupid.”
One of the officers sighs and there’s another deep heave. A uniformed man moves into your view and knocks on the door, shifting it in the frame. You back up and collide with something. Blair stands right behind you, silent. You look back at her as her brow furrows between concern and confusion.
“PD! Hello, we got a call from this location. Open up.”
Blair gives a hopeless grimace, “we’re gonna get in trouble.”
You cringe. “I’m sorry.”
You go to the door and unlock it. You put your head down sheepishly and open it, “hello?”
“Hello ma’am, are you the one who called?”
You peek back at Blair again. You can’t drag her into this.
“Yeah, officer, it was me,” you face him and push your shoulders back, “that man... that man doesn’t live with me. He came into my apartment and he refuses to leave. I don’t even know him--”
“Officer, that’s a lie. You can come in and check, all my stuff is here. My dog,” Sy drawls.
“Sir,” the other officer quiets him down.
The one before you crosses his arm and returns his attention to you, “isn’t nice lying on a man, especially a soldier. Whatever you’re mad about, doesn’t give you the right to call us down here. That’s obstruction.”
“I’m not lying,” you pout. “Please, sir--”
“So if I go in that apartment and look around, I won’t find his stuff in there, hm? Just yours?”
You stagger as if you’ve been struck. Is this part of his plan? Is that why he was so eager to get his stuff inside?
“He brought it with him but I swear, I never saw him before yesterday--”
“So this man, you wrote to him while he was over in the shit and now he’s back you’re playing victim? Is that right?” The officer growls, “take advantage of a man protecting his country, get some attention, and now you’re tryna throw him out? I should book you right now.”
“Officer,” Sy steps forward, “please, don’t do that. She’s just... she’s upset, you know? I promised her some things and I wasn’t entirely truthful.”
“That doesn’t give her the right,” the second officer grits.
“I know, I know, but I can sort this out. You don’t need to scare her anymore,” Sy runs his hand over his close-shaved head, “she’s my woman, I can’t let you do that.”
The officer in front of you scoffs, “good man,” he sneers in your direction, “get your head on straight and don’t be calling for your little tiffs again.”
You stand there, gutless. That was your last resort. Really, your only. You look back at Blair one last time before you go out into the hall. You turn back and meet Sy’s gaze as you walk towards him, the officers glaring at you. You don’t care about them so much as you’re scared of what he’ll do when they leave.
**I like Blair haha. I kinda made myself want to explore that character more so let me know if you’d like to see her as a reader character and I might pair her up with her own crazy guy.**
#captain syverson#dark captain syverson#dark!captain syverson#captain syverson x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#follow your anywhere#series#sand castle
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The house was empty when he came home today, to his strange observation.
Xander spent the past few weeks in a club for a sport he had participated in, but the season ended recently and he booked the quickest flight home. She found her heart rate growing with each hour she gets closer. It’s been a while since she had gotten the time to even call you because the team was always asking for her to come to practice day and night (it was rough to say the least)
“I miss you, sunshine.”
“I miss you too.” The timezones were far apart, setting you two to call at horrendous times, but he loved your voice at each and every hour; from the energetic tone of the noon, to the distressed and exhausted rasp of the night. His poor angel, always working so hard and doing so well.
However, his excitement was quick to turn into stitched brows and echoes of a higher voice. “Sunshine?” He called out, setting down the bags. Usually, you were at the door or on the couch waiting for him, but he found no one.
Maybe you were just tired. Surely that’s all.
Xander looked in the kitchen where she remembered the warm mornings of kissing your neck while you made breakfast, hands on your hips and pulling you close, and the warm breath asking you of the night’s quality; but all he found was an eerie, silent kitchen with a cold stove.
She moved to the living room where you would always lay on top of him and binge another show or movie, but you would fall asleep most of the time (she didint mind. She loved it actually) The couch was where he would pull you into his arms after a long day at school, holding you tight and hearing you complain. He knew it was a lot, so he often offered to cook dinner and give you a massage to relieve all that stress (even if it was just a little) But the fabric was cold, and your presence was lacking.
He started getting worried. Nicknames turning into standard ones. “Sol?” He knocked the bedroom door that was closed, “I’m home.” Xander swallowed the croak in his throat. It must've been a big joke, right? The stress was building up, but he couldn't quit here. You were just messing around with him, playing a prank for him being away.
Right?
“I’m coming in.” Their voice was soft as the knob twisted, but only cold air greeted them. He noticed certain things, horrible things to be specific; your charger was gone, the textbooks piling on the floor disappeared, and the closest. He shoved it open. Gone. Majority of the clothes at least.
“Sol,” he called out, “this isnt funny, sunshine, please.”
His heart remained high, but it was too high. Xander continued to search around, murmuring reassurement to himself. Running a hand through her hair, she huffed and went back out to the door. Even your shoes were gone.
Did something happen?
Xander took his phone and started to ring you, but after one, two, three….seven times, you never answered. She sent too many messages already.
“My plane landed!”
“I’m home!!”
“Sunshine? Where you are you?”
“Are you busy with school? Let me know when you get home. I can cook for you :)”
“Sol?”
“Where are you? It’s been a while?”
“Sol please I just want to know”
“Is everything okay? I don’t need details, angel, just a word.”
“You’re worrying me.”
“Did I do something?”
“Sunshine?”
“Where did you go?”
“Please?”
His fingers trembled at the last text of the singular word, too tired to write more. His heart was bubbling in his throat. Something went wrong.
Did we go wrong? Did I do something?
Xander ran a hand down his face, dragging the tears with his hand. They laughed to themself, an empty and breathless one. How long have you been gone? He sat down on the couch and stared out at the end, fingers playing with each other, and he waited. And waited. And waited.
His stomach was angry. It growled and rumbled as thunder does in the sky, but he stayed in the same spot. Waiting, like a dog at the door.
You’ll come back.
Xander knows his sunshine is busy.
They know you're hardworking.
He’ll take his time and come back, just as she does with her seasons.
.
.
.
You’ll come back, right?
damn i feel bad for bro. idk who that is but i hope they find their bitch soon 😔😔
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Worried about Puppers
So I'm looking for advice. Long post ahead.
I'd like to start by saying I have an older toy poodle mix, have had her since she was a puppy, and had an older German Shepard Mutt for about a year when he was already graying in the muzzle, firmly a senior doggo. He wasn't actually my dog, but my family, with our poodle mix, and family friend with their Shepard mix, lived together for a time. Both dogs got along great, despite Shepard mix being a senior dog, and the poodle mix being around four at the time.
I'm looking for advice regarding dogs I occasionally pet sit for my family; they're my cousin's dogs, B and L, and as a homebody (read, Hermit) I'm usually available for pet sitting when needed. I love B, he's been my cousin's dog for a couple years now, he was fully grown when my cousin got him, but he's not a senior dog yet. B's a Collie mix, very intelligent, very loving. He pretty much wants to play fetch whenever you let him, wants snuggles and petting, and is terrified of storms. (Not even thunderstorms, just hard rain, thunder, and lightning bring out a whole different fear.)
L is about a year old, gotten when she was a puppy. She's a lab/beagle mix, very energetic, and very rambunctious. She's enamored with B's long fur. I've pet-sitted pretty regularly since she entered the picture, just because she's so young, my cousin doesn't like her alone for long.
I've done weekends, long weekends, and even a full week when they went on vacation once.
I'm currently doing just an overnight while my cousin and aunt are out of town. I'm noticing some worrying signs, however.
Previously, L has been very intent to play with B even when B wasn't interested. Usually when dogs play, I think, they change between a lot of different types of play; wrestling, chasing, mouthing, jumping, etc. Which can be a little alarming if it's rough or loud, but I know most signs of dogs fighting, and aggression; the low head, ears back, low growls, sometimes a show of teeth, etc. I'm not worried about L and B fighting.
I'm worried because B has bald spots in his fur. He didn't previously the times I was watching the dogs, and L doesn't have any hairless spots at all. It's not an illness, as he shows no signs of sickness, nor did my cousin tell me about it, and it's not something that can spread, like flees, or pressure spots, as they're all along both back legs, his hind and part of his back and tail base.
I think the issue might be L. She doesn't leave B alone. whenever he lays down, L will immediately jump up and try to play with him. She's very mouthy, so I think she might be part of the cause of his back legs having bald spots. Her jumping and mouthing might've caused the higher bald spots, too.
When L tries to engage in play, she doesn't always respect his boundaries when he moves away to get his own space, giving a little growl. B will sometimes lay down and they mouth at one another, play-biting kind of thing, and when she lays down, sometimes he'll go over to sniff and lick her, but I don't see him often being the one to initiate play between them.
I worry B might be losing his fur from the stress of L in the house. I don't know if he's ever been in a multi-dog household, but I worry it might not be for him...
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i reblogged so much warrior cats content i started writing fanfiction
Part 1 of me writing a little blurb about the Warrior Cats from a kittypet perspective (I'm sure this has been done before but I found it inspiration in it okay)
adding: i havent read all the WC books and all of these characters are my own, its just the WC universe/naming conventions. so you dont need to know anything about warrior cats to read this
Pixie and the Clan Cats, Part 1.
The day was perfect, a slight chill in the air, an overcast sky, and a slight drizzle like a fine mist outside. Pixie batted lazily at the raindrops as they ran down the window. She hadn’t been to the groomers in a while and was growing tired of the hot sun beating down on her long fur, so the chill a storm brought was a pleasant relief.
Behind her, Cornelius shivered, his gray muzzle twitching. It never ceased to amaze her how frightened a big dog could be of a simple storm, and it wasn’t even thundering!
Peering out into the gray morning, Pixie saw bushes in the garden rustle. This piqued her interest, as most animals daren’t cross the tall fence. Her tail twitched in amusement as a young, short-haired tabby tried to jump onto the birdbath and was immediately shoulder-deep in musty green water. Two older cats peered doubtfully up at him from the bush.
The housefolk weren’t here, but in any case didn’t know about her private way out, a broken screen she could push past on one of the windows. Once outside, she approached the outdoor-cats with caution, pricking her ears to see what they were saying.
“It was foolish to come so close to the two-legs-place,” a brown tabby tom with a particularly puffy tail growled. “We’re off the patrol route, if Petalstar finds out-”
“Calm down, Pinetail, there’s easy prey here,” the calico said soothingly, “Stumblepaw needs to work his way up, it will do him no good to try on a squirrel first.”
“My first kill was a rabbit-”
“Stumblepaw needs to learn at his own pace.”
Stumlepaw thumped to the ground beside them, legs splayed awkwardly. “I almost got a sparrow here last time I was training with Cloversun!”
“Silvervine collects catmint from this garden,” Cloversun added, “That’s how I found out about it, I’m sure it’s safe.”
Pixie was quite close to them now, having walked along the stone wall in a casual manner. She wasn’t sure if they could hear her; these outdoor-cats usually had quite good senses, she had heard, but the one they called Silvervine never seemed to notice her. Silvervine was not talkative, it seemed. She merely stopped in the garden to take a few leaves here and there, never to hunt.
As if on cue, Pinetail turned to look at her. “Are you the kittypet that lives here?”
“You’re the ones they call the Clan-cats?” she asked in response. His voice was sneering, but she kept hers light.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be hunting in her garden,” the young cat they called Stumblepaw murmured, stepping back behind Cloversun. He had an odd gait when walking, she noticed, like his legs were stiff.
“She has no use for prey,” Cloversun argued, “Besides, the birds fly into the garden from our territory, they may as well be our prey.”
All three Clan cats had a nervous quality about them, Pixie noticed, like they were at the verge of balking and running if she said the word. Tense, like they needed housefolk to give them a good rub-down and a scratch behind the ears. With the scent of catmint on the air she thought maybe she should offer for them to have a roll-around in it. They were a bit scrawny, too, and they all had thin fur. She wondered what they did come winter, when she was happily curled up by the housefolk’s fire, or snuggled with Cornelius to keep the chill away.
The Clan cats were still looking at her and she realized with a start they wanted permission. “You can catch the birds, they aren’t very smart. The housefolk put out seeds for them to eat, so you should come back later. The seed-boxes are empty right now,” she waved with her tail at the seed-boxes hanging from their little poles.
“Thank you,” Cloversun said in a gasp, like she was letting out a sigh of relief. But she quickly added, “It’s not for me and Pinetail, we can catch birds in the forest. Stumblepaw is training.”
“Okay,” Pixie said, not sure why she should care.
“Are there any mice in your garden?” Stumblepaw asked hopefully from behind Cloversun.
“Sometimes. The housefolk like when I bring them mice, so I catch them when I see them,” she didn’t add that she usually let the mice live after playing with them for a bit, or brought them to the housefolk alive, because she felt the Clan cats would be unimpressed. There was no reason to kill them, after all; she could just catch them again later.
She hadn’t been paying much attention to the house, and hadn’t heard the rumbling of the twolegs coming home, but she heard the click of the lock on the back door and watched all three Clan cats bristle. Cornelius’s tall, lanky form appeared in the doorway, his head bowed to sniff the ground. He was quite slow, even for a dog, but saw the three cats in the garden and lumbered their way, stopping to sniff the ground and make water every few feet.
Pixie laid her head on her paws in amusement as Pinetail’s fierce demeanor faded immediately, his tail puffed up and he leapt back into the bushes and scrambled onto the wall, claws treading for a moment before getting his grip. Cloversun grabbed Stumblepaw like a kitten and dragged him up too, leaping from branch to branch.
“You didn’t tell us there was a dog here,” Cloversun hissed. Her fur looked like Pixie’s after a day at the groomers.
Pixie shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important.”
“I’ve never seen a dog before,” Stumblepaw said, eyes wide.
Cloversun batted him on the head, turned, and leapt down the wall. Stumblepaw jumped clumsily after them and Pixie watched him go, curiously eyeing his odd gait. “Come back soon,” she called after them.
Cornelius had come to a stop next to her place on the wall. His head was still well below her until he put his two front paws up on the wall, and then he was nearly eye to eye with her.
“You scared them,” Pixie chastised him. “I thought those poor, scraggly little things would jump out of their fur if you came any closer.”
Pixie was never sure how well Cornelius knew Cat, but she knew enough Dog to know he responded appropriately. “New cats? Friend cats? Meet cats?”
“New friends,” Pixie agreed, “If they ever decide to come back.”
#shutupotter#writing#warrior cats#fanfiction#im sorry everyone this is my brain and youre all trapped here with me#please appreciate my warrior cats fanfiction#btw Pixie is a ragdoll cat and Cornelius is a great dane#pixie and the clan cats
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My Girl
Request: Could you writer some sort of frenemies thing with Bucky where everyone thinks you hate each other but then Loki starts flirting with you and it makes Bucky really jealous??
Warnings: smut; non!con turned fucking sickly sweet, fingering, slut shaming, unprotected sex, doggy, missionary, dirty talk, angst.
Word count: 7968
A/N: I apologise for messing with your hearts like this - I also strayed a bit from the request (sorry anon!) x
“Buchanan, you fucker!” Y/N yelled from across the compound moments before Bucky strutted into the boardroom with a roll of his eyes.
The rest of the team’s head’s turned to follow the loud noise of Y/N yelling, watching the long haired super soldier enter the room with a smug look on his face.
“Not again.” Bruce sighed softly, his head falling into his hand as he prepared himself for another bickering match between Y/N and Bucky.
“Don’t you walk away from me.” Y/N followed Bucky into the room, her eyes fixed on the back of his head as he casually made his way over to the others.
“Guys, cut it out.” Tony spoke sternly, trying to control the two avengers who were constantly at each other’s throats.
“Just wait until you hear what he said.” Y/N looked over at Tony who’s palms were pressed against the edge of the large conference table. He shook his head, looking between the two is disbelief.
“I don't ca-”
“Don’t be such a baby.” Bucky retaliated to Y/N childishly before Tony could speak. The super soldier slumped down in the empty seat next to Cap, his eyes focused on her from across the room as his elbows rested on the arm rests of the swivel chair. Neither of them cared that they’d bought the whole room into the argument. “All I said was I’d rather take my chances with spider-boy than have Y/N as my partner on a mission.”
“This is coming from the guy who couldn’t even hold on to a train.” She growled as she pulled out the seat next to Nat, who was smiling an amusement at how well Y/N stood up for herself. Bucky scoffed at her comment, shaking his head as he thought of something to anger her further.
Peter’s face screwed up in shock after realising his name had been mentioned, his arms coming up to cross over his body defensively. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked as a devious smile appear on Bucky’s face. Peter glanced over at Tony for help, but he was too annoyed to care about the youngest avenger’s feelings.
“It means-” Y/N words were cut off by a loud bang of Tony’s hand hitting the desk. The sound made everyone jolt slightly, the room immediately silencing.
“Enough!” He yelled furiously, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he glared between the bickering pair. “I didn’t call this meeting to hear you two fight. You’re already late, now stop acting like children and listen up.”
Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop the laughter that was building up inside of her from hearing Tony yell as she glared over at Bucky.
“Asshole.” She mouthed to Bucky, who was already smirking at the fact that they’d been told off like toddlers.
“Snitch.” He whispered back cheekily, secretly liking the way he knew it would make her laugh. Bucky liked being the only reason she got frustrated, wound up and tense. But he also liked being the only reason she smiled, laughed and blushed.
Bucky had this hold on Y/N that couldn’t be explained. She’d tried to reason with herself, telling her inner-self it was just her caring nature that made her feel sorry for him, even when he was a complete dick to her. He was constantly doing things to purposely annoy her or to get a reaction. It gave him a thrill. Like a power trip that sent pleasure to his brain. And he took advantage of that any chance he got.
“Now, over the past few weeks the threats from the Beyonders have increased noticeably.” Tony stood up straight, tugging his collar back into place as he clicked the button of the control he was holding. The screen changed, a mathematical graph appearing to prove Tony’s point.
Y/N chanced a glance over at Bucky, his fingers on each hand intwined as he swivelled lightly in the chair. God, he was so infuriating. There wasn’t a day that went by without him getting on her last nerve. He frustrated her beyond belief. But for some twisted reason, she loved it.
“Now we don’t know a lot about who they are, what they want or where they came from.” Tony continued, the room dead silent as he flicked to the next slide.
Bucky bit the inside of his lip, a frown appearing on his brows as he zoned out to what Tony was saying. He was bored already, deciding to look down at his metal hand as he wiggled his fingers to amuse himself, studying the mechanics of it.
He felt a pair of eyes burning into him, glancing over to Y/N. A smug smile washed over his face when he noticed her already looking at him. He gave her a quick wink, pouting his lips into a kissing motion as she rolled her eyes.
“So, we’ve had to call on the help of an old acquaintance.” Tony turned to face the team again, his fingers lightly tapping on the table in front of him as his eyes darted around the room. Luckily by that point, Y/N and Bucky had both turned their eyes back to the spokesman.
Tony’s tongue quickly darted out to the corner of his mouth, the unknown reaction of the team was making him anxious.
“Excuse me, Mr Stark. Thor and Loki have just landed. Should I send them in?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice came through the intercom, immediately causing a few murmurs from the team.
“Loki’s here?” Y/N’s eyes lit up immediately as she looked up at Tony for confirmation. Bucky’s head shot round to where she sat, eyebrows furrowing as he wondered who the hell Loki was and why Y/N was so excited to see him.
“You called Loki?” Steve almost shot up out of his chair, a look of betrayal on his face as he stared at Tony, waiting for an explanation. “Tony, he is not an acquaintance.”
The fact that Steve was so put off by the mention of Loki had Bucky even more concerned. If Steve had a problem with him, so did he. Especially since Y/N liked him. As the room grew louder in outbursts of resentment regarding Tony’s decision, so did Bucky’s brain.
He watched Y/N try and fix her hair subtly, sitting up straighter in her chair as an unusual feeling flooded through him. He wasn't angry, but he sure as hell wasn’t happy.
The beep of the boardroom door opening quickly silenced the group, Y/N’s head turning to watch the God of Thunder walk into the room. “Hello everyone.” Thor nodded with a sweet smile, pleased to be back with his friends again. “Good to see you all.”
It was almost as if a cold wind engulfed the room as Bucky watched the dark haired, chiseled faced, pale god strut into the room. Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he felt a wave of overwhelming hate flood through his body. He noticed Loki’s hair was longer than his own. His eyes brighter. His smile wider. His jaw sharper.
“Greetings, all.” His voice was slicker. He was charismatic. He was charming. He was everything Bucky wasn’t and he fucking hated him. Bucky felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched Loki greet everyone individually, stopping in his tracks as he reached Y/N’s chair.
She’d turned to face him, her eyes lit up like fireworks as she looked up at the god of mischief who had put his hands over his mouth. “My god,” Loki gasped softly as he pulled his best puppy dog face, leaning his hands on the arms of Y/N chair to get close to her. “Y/N, you look more beautiful every time I see you, my love.”
Bucky felt his jaw clench so tight he was sure it would break. His hands closed into tight fists as he sat up a little straighter in his chair. He was livid. Livid at the fact that this green-eyed hot shot thought he could waltz in and steal Y/N away from him. Bucky was the only one that made her smile. He was the only one that got to have her attention.
“Oh, Loki, stop, you’re making me blush.” She giggled softly and wrapped her arms around his neck like they belonged there. Loki turned his face towards her, leaving a gentle kiss on her flushed cheek before he stood back up. Bucky had never made her giggle like that. He’d never kissed her cheek before. He’d spent every damn day with her and he never got her to blush like a little school girl.
“Maybe later you can show me your favourite spots and we can talk about what's changed since I was last here.” Loki spoke softly, taking Y/N’s hand in his as he pulled it against his chest dotingly.
A few snickers broke out from the rest of the team, not surprised one bit at Loki and Y/N’s interaction. Believe it or not, Y/N wasn’t Loki’s biggest fan. She would never actually progress their friendship to anything more than flirting, deep down she didn’t trust him just as much as Steve didn’t. But Y/N did love the attention that Loki gave her. How he treated her like a princess and devoted himself to her every word. She liked how he complimented her and made a fuss. She liked how he made her feel special in a room full of people.
But all that Bucky saw unravelling in front of his eyes was the start of one of those soppy rom-coms that he despised. “We have training later, Y/N.” His words came out a lot more aggressive than he originally intended.
The whole room’s attention turned to him, straight faced and stiffened body. Loki stood up straight as a glimmer shone in his eyes. He noticed how on edge the super soldier looked.
“Yeah, we’ll still have time to train, Bucky.” She spoke with a level of concern, noticing the unusual seriousness on Bucky’s face. “I wouldn’t skip on the opportunity to kick your ass.” She smirked, face immediately dropping as she watched Bucky quickly divert his eyes away, not entertaining her with his usual sarcastic response.
“Bucky?” Loki’s voice was low as thoughts flew through his brain at a million miles per hour. He smiled deviously, eyes squinting as his heart jumped at the chance to cause mischief. “James Buchanan Barnes. The winter soldier.”
Bucky clenched his jaw again as his eyes flickered up to Loki before back to the table, he could feel his anger bubbling over. Loki had been getting under his skin ever since he walked through the damn door.
“Hydra’s most successful experiment, their deadliest weapon.” Loki made a quick move around the table to stand in front of Bucky, his eyes widening with excitement as he held his hand out in front of him. “May I say what a pleasure it is to meet you.”
Steve noticed Bucky’s metal hand grip tightly around the arm of his chair as he politely lifted his flesh arm to quickly shake Loki’s hand. Bucky smiled as he momentarily looked up at the long haired god, using all of his will power to stay calm.
“How did it feel to know how many people you killed once you got your mind back?” Loki’s words were slow and full of deviance as Bucky’s metal arm began whirring into action.
Y/N watched worriedly, she annoyed the crap out of Bucky all the time, but she’d never seen him so angry. Her heart sunk as she watched Bucky’s eyes darken, a soft, lost look on his face that disappeared so quick she almost thought she’d imagined it.
Steve’s eyes widened as he watched the event unfold. “I think that’s enough chit chat, Loki.” He spoke sternly, Loki’s eyes immediately glancing over to Steve. He knew the fact that Steve had to step in meant he’d done a good job of infuriating Bucky. “Why don’t you just get on with what you came here to do.”
Loki stayed silent, pleased with his work as he flickered quick a smile, striding back up to the front of the room where Tony stood.
“The Beyonders are a race of extra-dimensional entities powerful enough to collect planets.” Loki went straight into ‘business mode’, his charismatic nature immediately made most of the room forget what he’d just said to Bucky.
But Steve was concerned, and embarrassingly enough, so was Y/N. Yes, she loved to aggravate Bucky, wind him up until he was chasing her down the hallway or whining at her to stop being a brat. But it was never to hurt him, she made sure of that. Not like what Loki had just done. She tried to silently get his attention by glancing over at him every now and then, but Bucky’s eyes didn’t budge from the table.
“Their nature is so alien that they are unable to leave their own dimension and for millennia were never observed by any being of the Earth dimension.” Loki continued to teach the team about the threat they were facing, the room silent as mostly everyone paid attention. “To interact with the Earth dimension they must operate through agents.”
“So basically, what Loki is saying is, it’s not just one race we’re up against here. It’s gunna be a big ass battle.” Tony interjected Loki’s speech, he’d read the room enough to know he’d lost the attention of three of his avengers already. There was no need for this to continue. “That’s all you need to know for now. We’ll regroup tomorrow for another meeting. Thank you, Loki.”
The team stood up, casually making their way out of the room after Tony had ended the meeting. Y/N lagged behind, watching Steve and Sam mumbling something incoherent to Bucky.
By the looks of things he didn’t want to listen to what they had to say, the long haired super soldier pushed past his oldest friend with a frown on his face, not lifting his eyes even once as he left the room.
Y/N sighed as she watched Bucky storm out of the room, she’d never seen him act out so much, he was always so internal with his emotions. She didn’t like the way Loki brought up Bucky’s past in front of everyone like that. She almost felt protective over Bucky, like she was the only one who should be able to tease him about that kind of stuff.
The look on Bucky’s face when Loki had mentioned the Winter Soldier’s assassinations made Y/N’s heart ache. It was as if everything came flooding back to him in an instant, like a bad dream he couldn’t wake up from.
Y/N and Bucky had never discussed such personal things, no way. She didn’t know that he suffered from PTSD, flashbacks and social anxiety. She didn’t know about the nights he lay awake haunted by his past. All she saw was a grumpy looking soldier who only smiled when he was making fun of her.
“Darling,” Loki’s sudden call to her knocked Y/N out of her thoughts. Her head was forced to turn to the side by the god of mischief, whose hands were on her shoulders. He smiled down at her dotingly, eyes bright as he fed her attention-needy ego. “What do you say we make the most of this alone time we’ve been so generously given, hm?”
She smiled softly up at him, although her eyes were glazed over as her mind wandered off again. “Sorry Loki, but I should go and get ready for training.” Her voice was monotone and quiet as she suddenly wasn’t so interested in the attention of the man in front of her.
She left the room and wandered through the compound, stopping in her tracks when she saw Sam, Steve and Nat talking in the kitchen. “Hey, Steve.” Y/N called out, confused as to why she was suddenly so concerned about the metal armed man.
As all three of the avenger’s heads turned to where she was standing, Y/N began second guessing her decision to ask if Bucky was okay. She hated Bucky, he annoyed the shit out of her. Even if she asked, the team would just think she was asking to make sure he wasn’t okay. What if they thought she’d take Loki’s side? Or worse. What if they thought she’d set Loki up to hurt Bucky? Even worse than that. What if Bucky thought Y/N had set Loki up to hurt him?
“Never mind.” She sighed as she bit the inside of her lip, continuing her walk through the compound until she reached her room.
She quickly changed into a red sports bra with navy detailing and leggings to match. She looked in the mirror after tying her training shoes and tied her hair into a high pony tail. She turned around, shamelessly checking out her ass before making her way down to the training room.
She waited for a whole half an hour for Bucky to show, but he never did. She stood up from where she’d eventually laid down on the rubber floor mat, she couldn’t help but feel guilty about what had happened earlier. Bucky obviously blamed her, why else wouldn’t he show? He’d never been late before.
“He didn’t show, huh?” Y/N glanced up as Steve walked into the room, tight grey top and black shorts.
She shook her head, lifting her arms to tighten her pony tail before placing her hands on her hips. “Any idea where he is?”
“In his room.” Steve shrugged, knowing that’s where Bucky spent most of his time. He started throwing controlled practice punches at the punching bag in front of him, stopping as he watched Y/N walk towards the door. “Maybe take it easy on him. I know he can annoy you sometimes but, I just think he’s having a bad day.”
She couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as she turned back to face Steve, he really thought she was going to yell at him for not showing up to training. She couldn’t blame him for thinking that, any other day and that's probably exactly what she would’ve done. “Loki was really out of line earlier, I actually just want to make sure Bucky’s okay.”
Steve smiled proudly at her from where he was taping up his hands, nodding slightly as if he were giving her the ‘go ahead’. There weren’t many people, even living in the compound, that would be willing to go out of their way to make sure Bucky was okay. It was partly his own fault, he was very stand-offish.
“Come in.” Y/N was surprised when she heard Bucky’s voice call out from beyond the door after she’d knocked. Honestly, she wasn’t expecting a response.
She opened the door slowly, noticing his neatly kept room with minimal belongings. She looked over Bucky who was standing by the foot of his bed, he was wearing different clothes from earlier. That, his slicked back hair and the scent of peppermint told Y/N that he’d just had a shower.
“What do you want?” Bucky mumbled bluntly, turning his back to her as he walked over to his desk to grab a newspaper. Y/N shut the door behind her quietly, watching as he glared at her before diverting his eyes away. He rubbed his face in his hand, sighing out of frustration when she didn’t answer. “I said what do you want?”
“Woah, at ease soldier.” She chuckled lightly, trying to make a joke to calm her nerves. She’d never been in Bucky’s room before. She’d never genuinely asked him about his feelings. She had no clue how he’d react. What if he made fun of her? “So this is why you bailed on our training, huh?” She smiled softly, pointing at the newspaper in his hand.
“I’m surprised you even noticed I wasn’t there.” Bucky scoffed out spitefully, referring to Loki asking to spend time with her.
“Of course I noticed.” Y/N frowned in confusion, watching Bucky roll his eyes as he slammed the newspaper back on the table.
“Why? Because you and your boyfriend didn’t have anyone to make fun of?” Bucky raised his voice, eyes squinting in anger as glared at her from where he stood. “Is that why you’re here now, hm? Didn’t get enough time to piss me off earlier? Or do you just wanna see how far you can push me before I snap?”
“Loki is not my boyfriend.” She screwed her face up, raising her voice to match his as she waved her hands in the air.
“Yeah, well, you suit each other.” Bucky snapped back sarcastically, a deep crease between his eyebrows formed as he frowned.
Y/N clenched her jaw, a burning heat rising up in her as her anger took control. “I came here to make sure you were okay, asshole!” She yelled furiously back at him, crossing her arms defensively.
“Oh yeah? Since when do you care about me?” Bucky spoke sarcastically, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he crossed his arms and waited for her response.
“Believe it or not, Bucky, some of us do care about you!” She snapped back at his sarcasm, her chest heaving with fury as she watched him immediately jolt off of the wall. “Normal people care about people other than themselves.”
“And I don’t?” His voice lowered drastically, he started walking towards her as if she were his prey. “Why? Because I have no feelings?” He clenched his fists by his sides, watching her press her back against the door as he stalked closer.
“I don’t know! No one knows what goes on in that cyborg brain of yours!” She argued, agrivated that she had tried to do the right thing by coming to see him, but his stubbornness was causing an argument.
“So that’s how you see me, huh? A robot with no emotion? An empty vessel? A killing machine?” Y/N gasped as Bucky’s metal hand tightened around her throat, pushing her head back against the door harshly. Her eyes widened innocently, trying to regain her breath as his face came square with hers. “You don’t know shit about me. About the constant fucking torture inside my head.”
“You didn’t kill those people, Bucky, it was Hydra. I saw the way you looked like a scared little puppy when Loki mentioned the-“
“The what?” Bucky growled huskily, keeping her head in place as his eyes stared into hers. He watched her pupils dialate as he squeezed the sides of her neck with his metal fingers.
His heart had stopped for a moment when she’d told him that Hydra was the one she blamed for what he’d done. He didn’t expect anyone to think that way, especially not her. A wave of emotion flooded through him, not jealously this time, but...what? Whatever it was, it caused butterflies in his tummy.
Bucky felt his cock twitch slightly at the sight of her submitting it him, for once in her life not fighting him. “The winter soldier?” Bucky whispered into her ear, Y/N’s eyes closing as she started to feel her pussy tingle. “Is that what this is all about? You wanna meet him? Wanna see me turn into a monster? Watch the light disappear from my eyes as I fucking destroy you?”
She couldn’t explain why his threats turned her on, all she knew was that she’d never been so aroused in her life. Her chest was heaving as he whispered in her ear, her panties flooding as his metal arm choked her.
The look she gave Bucky sent his head into a spin. She looked so helpless and innocent beneath his hand, but there was a hint of desire in her eyes. She wanted him, she wanted to please him, she wanted him to take whatever he wanted from her.
“You don’t scare me.” She whimpered softly, her lips parting as she tried to breathe. Bucky’s eyes flickered over her lips as an uncontrollable urge to kiss her washed over him.
“Still so mouthy.” He shook his head with a tut, their lips almost touching as he jolted his hand, pushing her head against the wall with more force. She let out a small cry. “You know there are other ways to get attention, baby.”
Y/N’s arousal was soaking through the material covering her crotch, her pebbled nipples rubbing against her sports bra. “Well it’s not my fault you’re always pissing me off.” She whispered bravely, her eyes fixed on his which had grown noticeably darker.
“Oh?” Bucky arched his eyebrow, tilting his head back slightly to assert his dominance. “You don’t like when I wind you up? When I say things to purposely get you to snap?” He leaned his head down, his lips tickling the delicate skin just behind where his fingers finished pressing into her neck.
Y/N listened closely to his words, realising that Bucky hadn’t been treating her that way because he hated her. He hadn’t been constantly on at her because he didn’t get along with her. In fact, he did it because he knew exactly what she liked. Exactly what kind of interactions she thrived off of. The kind that would always bring her back for more.
Bucky took her silence as an agreement, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued kissing her neck softly. “I know exactly what gets you going, don’t I?” He continued, finally letting go of her neck as his metal arm trailed down her chest.
Y/N let out a shaky breath as her throat was now unrestricted, her eyes dropping to where his hand was on her. Bucky’s flesh palm was planted firmly on the wall next to her head, trapping her there.
“Is that why you’re always so frustrated around me? Hm? Constantly coming back for more?” He kissed her cheek, almost affectionately as he watched her squirm under his touch. “Such a needy little attention whore.”
She didn’t bite back, her head lifted to lean against the wall, her thighs desperately rubbing together to relieve some of the tension building between her thighs. She liked it.
Bucky chuckled deeply, looking down at where his fingers had dropped to play with the waistband of her exercise leggings. He hooked the tips of his metal fingers inside, entertaining himself as he looked back up at her. “Tell me honestly, baby, whose attention do you crave most?”
“Yours.” She whimpered desperately, not even taking a moment to think. His lips ghosted over hers, his eyes big and innocent as he brushed their noses together.
“Not that green goblin who calls himself a god?” Bucky tested as he stepped closer, their bodies touching as his hand pressed against her lower stomach. She whimpered at the feeling of his cold metal fingers on her bare skin, so close to where she needed him most.
“No.” She submitted to him instantly, shaking her head as Bucky slowly pushed his hand further down into her pants.
He stopped when he reached the band of her panties, a loud gulp erupted from Y/N’s throat as Bucky teased her even more. “You sure? S’not too late to go running back to him.”
“No, Bucky, I want you.” She breathed out shakily, almost crying in frustration as Bucky licked his lips, her words were like music to his ears. Her hand came down to rest on his lower tummy, feeling his muscles through the thin material of his t-shirt.
“Why, Y/N?” He growled as their breaths hit each others lips, she clawed softly at his stomach, overwhelmed with pleasure before he’d even begun. “Tell me why you want me and not him.”
She felt exhausted, like her body could collapse at any moment. She was in a euphoric state from his light touches and words alone. She looked down at his lips, her eyes half shut as she grabbed hold of his metal wrist, pushing his hand down into her panties.
Y/N let out a soft moan as his metal fingers slipped between her slick folds, her head hitting the wall with a thud. She looked up at Bucky, watching his eyes fall to where his hand disappeared into her leggings. His brows were furrowed in a frown, his mouth slightly hung open as he slipped his fingers deeper into her. “Because only you make me wet.”
Bucky lost control, pushing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss as two of his metal fingers slipped into her hole. Y/N moaned into the kiss, her hand flying up to hold the back of his neck, pulling him down harder onto her lips. If only he’d known. If only he’d known that every cocky remark, every teasing comment left her this wet.
“God, if Id’ve known all it took to shut you up was my fingers in your wet little hole I would’ve fucked you a long time ago.” Bucky chuckled darkly, his words were condescending. He pushed his tongue between her lips, a growl escaping his throat as she sucked on his warm muscle.
His fingers moved in and out of her aching pussy, his whole hand drenched in her arousal. Y/N whimpered when he curled his fingers inside of her, hitting a spot of pleasure that she didn't know was there.
“Bucky.” She moaned against his lips, her hips bucking into his hand as his thumb moved to rub her throbbing clit. She tugged on his hair, her arms resting on his shoulders as she steadied herself.
“You wanna cum, don’t you?” He asked smugly, tilting his head before pressing their lips together sensually. “You wanna cum all over metal hand, you horny little slut.”
“Yeah.” She whimpered out breathlessly, sucking on his top lip as she rocked her hips against his hand, pushing them further inside of her. “Make me cum, please, Bucky.”
“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, you hear me?” Bucky growled into her mouth, biting down on her lip hard enough to hurt. He felt Y/N’s hips rut against his hand again, a smile appearing on his lips as he felt how desperate she was.
She whimpered, her back arching off of the wall as she rolled her hips toward him. She looked up into his eyes innocently, like he was the only person in the world.
Bucky felt his cock pressing harshly against the material of his track pants, desperate for attention. He watched her bounce on his fingers, her hand moving from his shoulder to pull the tight material of her sports bra over her tits, letting them bounce freely.
Bucky’s eyes darkened at the sight of her boobs, his fingers speeding up inside her tight pussy as he met every movement of her hips. “Fuck yourself on my hand, just like that, make yourself cum.”
Her thighs clenched around his hand, controlling his movements as she clung to his wrist, fucking herself on his hand just like he’d told her to. “Shit, Bucky.”
Y/N clenched rapidly around his metal fingers, his thumb harshly pressed against her sensitive nub as she felt her orgasm taking over.
She leaned in to press her lips against his, hoping to muffle the moans, but Bucky was too fast. He moved his head out of reach, smiling down at her deviously as she came.
Her moans filled the room, her nails digging in to his shoulder as she bucked her hips unrhythmatically into his palm. “Fuck.” She whimpered as she clung to his chest, trying to calm down from the overwhelming sensation.
Bucky pulled his fingers out of her before she could even catch a breath, little moans escaping her lips as she watched him suck his fingers soaked in her juices.
“Shit.” He breathed heavily as he looked down at where his fingers had just been, a noticble wet patch covering the material of her leggings. “You’re so fucking wet, soaked right through your leggings.”
Y/N whimpered in response, tugging his metal hand down to her mouth as she sucked on his fingers. Bucky clenched his jaw as he watched her submissively take his fingers, her soft plump lips wrapping around them.
“Bucky,” she breathed shakily as he pulled his fingers from her mouth to hold her hips. She wrapped her hands around his biceps as she pulled body against hers. “I want you to fuck me.”
He smiled darkly at her desperate state, his cock throbbing as he tilted his head to the side. “It’s gunna hurt.” He chuckled, enjoying the thought of impaling her on his cock.
“Good,” She pouted as she ran her hands down his muscular form, desperate to feel his cock in her hand. “I want it to hurt.”
Bucky immediately caught on to what she was doing, his hands quickly moving to grab her wrists tightly. He skilfully used his strength to spin her around, her exposed chest pressing hard against the wall as he held her hands behind the small of her back.
Y/N let out a small cry, his body pressed tightly against her back. She felt the outline of his cock pressing against her ass cheek as she ground back into him.
“Don’t you dare try and take control.” Bucky growled deeply, his head dropping as he watched his bulge rub against her.
Bucky groaned at the feeling, he let go of her wrists, her palms moving to press against the wall. His hands quickly moved to pull the waistband of her leggings and panties down to free her ass.
He gulped loudly as he watched the wetness pool down onto her panties. Bucky had to stop himself from dropping to his knees and fucking her with his tongue.
“Come on Bucky,” Y/N whined desperately as she kicked her bottoms off the rest of the way, almost crying out of frustration. “Don’t you wanna fuck the brat out of me?” She turned her head to look at him, biting her lip as she watched him tugging on his cock that he’d pulled out of the confinements of his pants.
He was huge. Her lips parted in a gasp as she took in the beauty of his cock. She had to stop herself from turning around and sucking him off. Bucky lifted his flesh hand up to her mouth, watching as she obediently licked a strip up his palm with her tongue.
Bucky looked her almost naked form up and down, moving his wet hand to lubricate his cock as he tugged himself off. “God, you make me so wet, Bucky.” She moaned sensually, spreading her legs a little wider as she felt her juices running down the inside of her thigh.
He closed his eyes, letting his metal fingers dig into her hip as he positioned himself behind her, lining his tip up with her dripping heat. He bit his lip, forcing his cock into her tight walls as she moaned like a pornstar for him.
“Oh, yes.” She screamed at the feeling of his thick length stretching her pussy. “Fuck, Bucky.” She felt his cock twitch inside of her, encouraging her to moan louder. She closed her eyes, leaning her cheek against the cold wall as she tried to adjust to his monstrous size.
“Good girl, let everyone know who you belong to.” Bucky moaned as he stilled, fully sheathed inside of her. Her pussy clenched around him, hugging his thick shaft trying to milk him of his cum.
“You’re so big.” She whimpered submissively, trying to stop her hips from jolting to get used to his cock throbbing inside of her. Bucky could tell that she was already fucked out, his cock was too much for her to take. But for once, she wasn’t answering him back or being a pain in his ass. She was begging him.
Bucky bit down on his bottom lip as he suddenly began moving his hips in and out of her, the action easy because of how wet she was. He held her hips in place as she cried out, still trying to adjust to his size. Her tits bounced as she lost control of her body, pushing her palm harder against the wall as she steadied herself.
“No, Bucky, wait.” She whimpered, moving her other hand back to push his hip back, needing a little more time to adjust. A dull ache took over her pussy as he fucked her relentlessly, easily fighting against where her hand was pushing him away.
“You said you wanted it to hurt.” He growled dominantly, pulling her hips back against his cock as he fucked into her, treating her like his own little sex doll. His cock twitched at the sound of her erotic moans filling the room loudly, a grunt erupting from his lips as he watched his cock disappear into her pussy.
Her clit throbbed with pleasure, her ass being pulled back harshly against his skin. Slapping sounds grew louder with her pussy still dripping with arousal, his cock easily slipping in and out of her.
“I do,” She breathed heavily, her head spinning with pleasure as she dropped her hand from his hip, the feeling of needing to help him feel better overwhelming her senses. “Take it all out on me, Buck.”
His hips didn’t let up, fucking deep into her as he felt a different feeling flow through his body. He looked at the girl in front of him, so ready to help him fuck away his problems. So ready to help him, where most people would’ve run.
Bucky’s heart felt like mush, a moan leaving his lips as Y/N arched her back into his touch. He moved his body forward to press his chest flush against her back, his metal hand pressing into the wall.
He’d pushed his cock deeper into her with the new angle, another loud moan of his name escaping her lips as she leaned her head back against his shoulder.
Bucky felt her pussy clenching around him again, his flesh arm wrapping around her chest to hug her tighter against him. She started circling her hips on his cock, a deep growl came from his chest as he fucked her.
“Did you mean it?” He whispered into her ear, fucking deep inside of her as he made her moan for him. She whimpered softly, her eyes closing in pure bliss as she felt his cock pressing against her cervix.
She turned her head towards him, her eyes darkened and fucked out as she looked at his face. His stubble scratched her cheek, his eyes glistening in the dull light of the room. He waited for an answer for what seemed like a lifetime, his thrusts getting rougher as he clenched his thighs.
“Did you mean it?” He repeated the question, feeling his balls slapping against her skin. Y/N looked up into his eyes, noticing the softness in them which wasn’t there before. “Did you mean it when you said you’re not scared of me?”
A warm feeling flooded Y/N’s heart as she saw that look again - the scared puppy look that she’d seen when Loki mentioned the winter soldier. Her chest tightened around itself, the pain in his eyes was so deep it almost hurt her to see.
“Yes,” She nodded softly, her hand moving to play with his hair as she watched Bucky’s eyes flicker down to her lips. “Of course I meant it.” Her eyebrows raised, almost to confirm her sincerity as she pressed her lips to his.
Bucky sighed in relief as he felt her lips against his, embarrassingly too shy to do it himself. He deepened his thrusts, hugging her body as he fucked up into her. But now it was more than fucking, it was like they were connected on a completely different level. Like they understood each other more than anyone else would ever understand them. Y/N had never seen this side of him before and it was making her fall in love. and that scared her.
She pushed her ass back against him, moaning into the kiss as she felt his cock twitching inside her walls. She knew she was close, her clit tingling at the full feeling of his length fucking her. Bucky knew it too, he felt the way she was squeezing around him.
He felt an overwhelming amount of emotion coursing through his veins, his heart almost beating out of his chest as he slid his cock out of her. Before she could protest, Bucky spun Y/N to face him, his chest heaving as she pressed her hand against his peck.
“Do you think you could ever love me?” He nudged her nose with his, looking down at the floor as he breathed shakily. Her eyes saddened at his vulnerability, wondering how many times that thought had crossed his mind, thinking the answer was no. “Do you think anyone could ever love me?”
“God, you’re such a fucking idiot sometimes, Barnes.” She sighed with a sad smile, a little chuckle escaping her lips as Bucky looked up at her eyes in a moment of bravery.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his automatically move to hold her hips. She felt his throbbing cock against her crotch, ignoring the sexual desire as she focused on taking care of his feelings. “Of course I love you.” She admitted shyly, the flush on her cheeks not just from the raw fucking.
Bucky tried to control the smile from beaming on his face, but he failed miserably. She looked up at the handsome soldier, her heart skipping a beat knowing she was the reason for his happiness. “Why else do you think I constantly bug you? Or instantly forgive you for all the things you do to make me mad, hm?” She played with his hair as Bucky licked his lips, admiring her through hooded eyes.
She squealed as Bucky suddenly pressed his lips against hers deeply, giggling like a little school girl as he picked her up by her thighs. Bucky’s heart fluttered at the sound of her laughing, her hand cupping his stubble-covered face as she tilted her head into the kiss.
Bucky turned them around, walking them over to his bed as he flicked his tongue between her parted lips. She moaned into the kiss, feeling herself falling before her back landed on the soft mattress.
She opened her eyes when Bucky took his lips away, a small pouty smile on her lips as she watched him lifting his shirt over his head. She ran her hand down his bare chest as Bucky threw the material to the floor.
Y/N took the opportunity to lift her sports bra the rest of the way off, letting it join Bucky’s t-shirt. He sat up between her legs, admiring her now fully naked form as he tugged his tracksuit pants off.
Bucky hovered back over her, his hands coming to rest either side of her head as he followed her eyes to where his metal arm fused with his skin. He gulped loudly as her hand came up towards the modification, her eyes meeting his to ask for permission.
Bucky nodded nervously, still in slight disbelief that she hadn’t run away yet. He felt her soft fingers trace the frame of the metal shoulder, following the boarder which connected to his flesh. His heart skipped a beat as she watched a soft smile cover her face, moving her eyes back up to meet his. “It’s so beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” He smiled down at her bashfully, moving his hand to grab hold of hers as he leaned down towards her lips.
“My goodness, did I just hear old man Barnes call me-”
He cut off her sass with a kiss, a chuckle erupting from both of them as he shook his head. “Don’t ruin the moment.” She scrunched his face up with a smile, looking down at her dotingly.
“Sorry.” She giggled cheekily, wrapping her thighs around his hips as she pulled him closer. Her nails scratched lightly down his back as she lifted her head to kiss him again.
Bucky groaned, feeling his cock rub against her pussy lips. A moan escaped Y/N’s lips as she tugged on his hair, feeling his cock pushing back inside her.
“Fuck.” She let out in a whimper, her eyes big and innocent as she felt him bottom out inside of her. She tilted her head to the side, her other hand holding his chest as she deepened the kiss.
Bucky started fucking her deep and slow, feeling every clench of her needy pussy. He breathed heavily through his nose, short grunts vibrating in his throat as he twitched inside of her.
“Y/N,” He moaned deeply, letting their lips brush against each other as her breath tickled his face. “I love you.” He clenched his jaw as he felt his orgasm approaching fast.
Her tits bounced against his chest, her back arching at the feeling of him filling her sweet cunt with his cock. “I love you, Buck.” She let out with a cry, Bucky’s skin rubbing her throbbing clit as her thighs clenched around his body, a wave of euphoria erupted through her body.
“Oh, Bucky.” Her hips erratically bucked up to meet his, her pussy pulsing around him as she came. Her nails dug harder into his back, leaving imprints that would at least last a day.
“Fuck.” Bucky moaned into her neck, his brows furrowing into a frown as he muffled his grunts against her skin. The feeling of her coming on top of him had Bucky’s hands gripping tightly at the bedsheets. “I’m gunna cum.”
“Bucky,” She whimpered shyly, rubbing the back of his neck soothingly as she hugged him close, rolling her hips onto his. “Can you cum inside me?”
“You want me to?” He groaned softly, trying to stop himself from cumming so soon, but the feeling of her was too good.
“Please.” She nodded as Bucky turned his head to look at her, hovering his lips against hers for a second before pressing them against his passionately. He felt his orgasm hit, his hips rutting into her as he filled her with his cum.
Y/N looked down at where their bodies were connected, watching his cock slide into her overstimulated pussy as he rode out his high. She whimpered softly as she rubbed his shoulder soothingly, his softening cock slipping out of her.
Bucky looked down too, both watching as his cum dribbled out of her pussy. He smiled proudly before looking back up at her, tracing his finger over her cheek lightly. “Guess the team will be happy that this means our constant bickering will stop.” Bucky chuckled sweetly, looking down at her face.
“What does this mean?” She prodded him lightly with her finger, smiling up at him as she admired his gorgeous eyes.
“It means you’re my girl.” He mumbled before kissing her lips softly.
“Do I get a say in this at all?” She faked a shocked look and giggled in amusement, watching the cheeky smile appear on his face.
Bucky shook his head before kissing her again. “No.” He smiled softly, the feeling of pure happiness making him kiss her over and over.
“Okay, fine, I’ll be your girl.” She let out a fake sigh of exasperation, her heart thudding against her chest like she’d never felt before. “But I just have one question.”
“Okay.” Bucky dragged out the word suspiciously, sitting up on his knees as he rubbed the tops of her thighs.
“Do you honestly think me being your girlfriend means I’m not gunna still constantly annoy the shit out of you?” She let out lowly with a smirk, watching Bucky groan dramatically as he dropped down next to her on the bed, a huge smile on his face.
He knew she was right, but he didn't mind at all. In fact, he never minded before anyway.
tag list:
@harrysthiccthighss
@annestine
@bestofbucky
@be-patient-be-good
@nothing0is4here
@velvetcardiganbucky
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes x y/n#winter soldier#winter soldier smut#winter soldier oneshot#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x y/n#winter soldier x oc#marvel#marvel smut#marvel au#bucky barnes au#marvel imagine#marvel oneshot#marvel x reader#marvel x y/n#marvel x oc#sebastian stan oneshot#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x oc#Sebastian stan x y/n
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Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader
Series: Don't forget who you belong to.
Chapter 2 - Give me your answer, do
Underthecut - NSFW, Male Masturbation, Oral - Male Receiving.
Brahms sat idly in his living room, leaning back in his large leather recliner. Feet shuffling along the Egyptian carpet, thumbs twiddling as he hums Daisy Bell by Harry Dacre,
"I'm half crazy, all for the love of you." He smiles as he thinks of her. How her hair shines in the sun, like a halo above her head. Her eyes sparkling whenever she laughs, how the corner of her eyes crinkles ever so slightly. How her smile makes his heart skip a beat.
Brahms sucks in a breath, his hum-singing continues, "There are bright lights the dazzling eyes of beautiful Daisy Bell." He sits up straight, eyes on the unlit fireplace, the gold gate held an ornate Chinese dog welded on the front. He looks above the fireplace to the mantel, the rows of photos in their ash wood frames.
His face is stern as he glances at a particular photo. He, a half-smile as his hand rests on his son's shoulder. Lawrence when he was a boy of eight. Lawrence's other shoulder had a delicate white hand upon it. Gerti, her lips dark with her favourite shade of lipstick, her slight freckles littered her face, her silky blonde hair up in a beautiful age-appropriate bun.
His hum-singing fades as he continues to stare, the family photo, the family in the photo appearing as sharp and elegant as their social standing. That day, Gerti had scolded him all morning, her eyes wide and glossy, her alabaster skin held a blue and yellow hue under her eyes. Her fingers were cold and clammy.
"For the love of everything, Brahms, hurry for once." Brahms flinches as he can still hear her screeching, "Lawrence, get the cat's paw out of your mouth and stop pulling its tail!" He chuckles,
"I miss that cat," Brahms laughs to himself. Never one for pets but how that scraggly little beast could make his son laugh in the most jovial way, warmed him greatly.
His amused grin falls as his eyes lock with Gerti's. Grabbing the photo, his thumb ghosts over her image, remembering how once soft her skin was. His stomach churns as a chill seeps into his bones, shaking him in his spot.
He places the family photo back on the mantle, right next to a photo of her. Her hands grasping each other, face tilted slightly, a timid smile upon her face. "Sir, I don't need my photo taken!"
"Y/n, as my employee of a year, you are practically family." Brahms let out a shaky breath as his mind replays the conversation. "And you may call me, Brahms. You address Gerti by her full name."
"Gerti and are intimate in ways that have allowed us to be close."
"Pray tell may I watch these intimate moments?" His cheeky reply had cost him an ear full from his wife when she had found out. Brahms still never understood why women used such charged words to describe a close friendship.
Brahms left the living room, a stirring in his gut had him heave. He wanted to call upon her for aid, 'Fetch me a water with some ice, and actually bring some black tea and one of our lemons from Italy.' he clears his throat at the thought of dryness being washed back by the cold refreshment.
He had given her a few hours a week for personal time. Free to be spent however she pleased. Ever since the death of his wife and Lawerence attending Rugby School for Boys she had more free time. Much to Brahms immense displeasure.
Brahms had taken to stalking her on her days off. Wanted to see what she got up to. Where she went and specifically with who. He would linger twenty feet behind, always darting behind stalls and other tall men to hide, he even took to wearing a coat that he kept hidden in hopes she would not recognize him further.
He stared in amazement at how well she helped an old lady onto the trolley all the while juggling her belongings, refusing a 'tip' "It's the nice thing to do." in reference to helping others.
His cheeks flushed whenever she stopped to smell the flowers, literally. A quaint smile as she turned down the offer for a free one from the vendor. She often stopped to sniff the white and yellow flowers. He had noticed Daisys were her favorite.
He seethed when one day you were stopped by a handsome Youngman, his tall lean frame stood confidently as his dark brown eyes held a softness as they looked down at you. He had overheard the name in a distinctly American accent, "Dan, yeah I'm studying medicine with my colleague, I'd introduce you but..." He hated that you always walked near the campus, hated all the young men eager, too eager to chat up a single young lady.
Dan had never gotten farther than chaste conversations and one quick feather-light kiss on her cheek.
Brahms wondered if he should up and move, just to be a little further away from the university, away from the young men, away from one of them stealing her away. She was his, he had just yet to convince her. Ask her, even bring it up in any conceivable way.
One occasion made the blood sear in his veins. He should have been more away, should have been more vigilant of this Dan fellow. He watched from a distance as Dan rounded the corner and collided with her. His tall body fell over hers, his hand had just managed to catch the back of her head, softening to the blow to the ground.
"Oh, God! I am so sorry!" Dan's eyes wide in shock, "Oh, I'm so sorry."
She laughed, "No, no, it's fine," Brahms gritted his teeth.
"No, it's not." Dan pulled himself and her up, his hand holding her in a firm grasp. "I am so sorry." He scratched the back of his head, his expression doleful.
"Accidents happen." She assured, grabbing his hand still wrapped around hers. " It's okay Dan."
"You remember me!" Dan's brown eyes lit up. A Radiant smile over his face as he stepped closer to her.
Brahms seethed as the scene played out before him. She smiled, he smiled. She laughed, he laughed. The words between the two began to fall effortlessly between them both.
He watched despondently. How she could let herself relax so easily in another man's presence. How her demeanor shifted around Dan. Those stiff shoulders eased themselves as Dan placed his hand on her shoulder and winked.
Brahms cursed, the university's chapel bell rang out. Every thunderous clang shot through Brahms. Every clang was a reminder he had another place to be. The dreaded desk in the dreaded little corner of his office.
He turned one last time, eyes watched as she smiled with a warmth he'd never seen, how she leaned into Dan as his smile shined bright.
Brahms walks up to his maid's room, thanking Gerti for installing a sense of comfort in Y/N as to never locking the door.
He jiggles the door handle, "Hm..." Again, "Weird," his eyes narrow, "Bloody thing is locked." He jostles the handle, "Bloody woman..."
Click
"Ah, there we are." He hums in approval as the door creaks open. Forever grateful for the previous owner teaching him how to easily unlock a door in the house without a key "Rickety ol' tings" Brahms mocked the man's heavy accent.
He inhales as he enters her room. The simple little abode warmed his heart. Her bed and the nightgown left upon it stirred his loins. He walks to the bed, grabs the nightgown, bringing it to his nose, he growls as he inhales, her natural scent lingered on the garment.
Brahms holds the garment in his teeth as he shucks off his pants, freeing his painfully erect cock. The thoughts whirl in his mind as he plops onto her bed, sighing with content as he sinks down into the mattress and a sneer as he grips his cock.
The same bed she slept, where when the night calls for it, he knew she'd sleep naked. "Fuck..." He growls through the nightgown, ripping it from his mouth to place it over his chest. Her bed, her bed where she no doubt has touched herself, even if briefly in a beautiful sinful manner.
Does she shy away as she dipped those delicate little fingers into her dripping pussy? Does she bite her cheek to stifle her pitchy moans when that jolt of pleasure shot through her?
Brahms collects some spit in his large hand, sucking in a breath as his cold spit touches his cock. His hand pumps eagerly around his thick member, a low groan as the image of her crawling up to him floods his mind. He sighs as he pictures it as her hand gripping him, gasping at how large it is,
"Brahms, my fingers can't even wrap around it!"
"That's okay, love, use those pretty little lips and that wet little tongue to help you."
"What if my make-up smears?"
"Oh, love, that's what I want." Brahms throws his head back, thumb circling his swollen head, picturing it as her delicate wet little tongue. He grips himself harder as he swears he can feel her lips wrap around his cock.
His low groans and breathy moans fill her little room, her name falling from his lips, "So beautiful, Y/N. My love, so perfect, mhm, yes, further down your throat, moaning around it."
Brahms breathing hitches as he pictures her, clawing at his chest as tears prick the corner of her eyes, "I'm a little nervous," She says as she rubs her glistening pussy, inches over his leaking cock.
"You got this, my love." Brahms keens,
"Will it fit, Brahms?..." She bites her lip, a hand groping her beautiful chest.
"My love, just relax, I have you." He pictures gripping her hip to ease her down onto him, gripping his cock as he imagines her warm pussy gripping him.
Audible slaps from the fisting of his cock, mixing with his now desperate pleas and moans fill her room. She's on top of him, her chest flushed against his, she's commenting on how she loves the feel of his hairy chest, praised-filled moans as she comments on his pecs flexing under her.
Brahms bucks his hips into his hand, "Hold you close." He moans as he pictures rolling on top of her, her legs wrapping around his lower half, arms pulling him in close, whispering in his ear,
"Brahms cum in me, cum in me, make me yours." He grips squeeze around his cock, imaging it's her pussy clenching around him, "I love you, Brahms."
He hisses as his body shakes, muscles flexing, toes curling as he snarls out his release. The image of her accepting his seed sends heat washing over him. His cock pulses in his grip, his cum spraying over her nightgown, the remaining spilling down his fingers and cock.
His temples pulse, his ears ringing. His toes unfurling as his legs ceased in their shakes. He squeezes his cock a few more times, hearing her breathlessly thanking him, "It's so warm in me. Thank you, Brahms." He swears he can feel her nuzzling into his chest as if she was there.
Brahms coughs as he sits up, shaking his head as he gingerly throws his legs over the side, placing his feet on the door. The nightgown falls over his cock. He snorts, using it to clean himself. He stands up, placing the nightgown where he had found it. A wicked and mischievous grin spreads over his face at the thought of her wearing his spent at night.
He grunts as he retrieves his trousers, pulling them up in haste, tucking his chub back in. A content sigh as he eyes the bed and nightgown. She wouldn't be sleeping alone for much longer.
Brahms snaps his attention to the trill of his front doorbell. He clicks his tongue as he makes haste to the door. He debates on if he has time to properly clean his hand, decides to just wear a fancy white-glove he leaves, conveniently, near the front door instead.
"Coming! My Maid is out currently," He sucks in a breath as he pulls a glove over his right hand, he cocks his head quickly before opening the door. "Sorry, it'd have been answered sooner...who are you?"
Brahms stared down at the short man before him. His brown hair combed expertly to the side, his brows immaculate under his thick glasses. He wore a glowering expression, his lips in a tight line.
The man clears his throat, "Herbert, Herbert West." Brahms makes note of his American accent, "I believe this paper is for the lady of this residence." Herbert whips the paper in front of him, his expression changing to say "Well, hurry and take it!"
"Mr. West."
"Herbert."
"Herbert, If by Lady you mean, Gerti? She passed awa-"
"I don't mean your dead wife."
Brahms's eyes narrow at Herbert. He opens his mouth the speak.
"I mean, Y/n. She is the only lady living here. So Dan tells me."
Brahms's jaw slackens, "Dan." He says more to himself.
"Yes, it's an invitation to a formal at the university. He already invited her. Just wanted to make sure she got all the details, it's all there on the paper." Herbert whips it again in front of Brahms.
Brahms yanks the paper from Herbert, eyes scanning it wildly.
University of London
Residents of Handel Mansions we formally invite you to bring along the most beautiful dame for the start of our fall formal.
September 28th, 1900
Entrance fee 1 pound, with a beautiful dame on your arm the fee is waved.
Brahms stares back at Herbert who pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well," Herbert begins, "I figured be best to drop it off for Dan. He's been awfully busy." He flashes a smile to Brahms as he turns, "Dan also says to let Y/n know he wishes her luck at her new job on Robitaille's farm." He turns back around to Brahms, "Oh, it was nice meeting you, Mr.?"
Brahms pauses, clearing his throat, "Brahms Heelshire."
Herbert clicks his tongue, "I knew that." He walks down the stairs, a pep in his step, "Was nice meeting you Mr. Heelshire."
Brahms stares at the short man walking away, nodding to a man walking past. He turns back around, slamming the door behind in, the frame shook.
He stares down at the paper, eyes reading it over and over again. "A formal." He starts, "That Dan..." His breath catches in his chest, "A job?" he questions aloud.
He collapses against his door, slumping over as he crunches the paper in his hands. His thoughts raced to her, cursing himself for not intervening that day she ran into Dan. Wishing he just took the reprimand from his employer and raced in to shove Dan away from you. Creating some fantastical lie as to why he was suddenly there.
Brahms's thoughts slip to his son. Lawrence, his green eyes shine whenever he and Y/n play. He hugs her like he did his mother. How y/n always promises to play with him, tuck him at night. How were you going to tuck him in if you were to be away? How were you going to be there to kiss his little cheek as he falls asleep?
"How are you going to be there for me?"
#brahms heelshire#Brahms x reader#Brahms x you#Brahms imagine#Brahms heelshire x reader#Brahms heelshire x you#Female reader#Slasher x reader#Slasher x you#Slasher imagine#Herbert West#Dan Cain#Smut#Lemon#Victorian AU#Victorian era#late victorian era#edwardian era
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please can i have 22 for the pining prompts 🥺 /witcher-and-his-bard <333333
22. Disguising pining with heavy flirtation (with others)
thanks for the prompt, alex! making me write flirting was terribly cruel! ):<
Jaskier leans across the counter, fluttering his lashes at the barmaid. “What are your plans later on?”
She scowls at him and scrubs the bartop with more vigor. “I’m busy.”
Jaskier puts a hand over his chest. “A travesty. True beauty like yours is hard to come by, my dear.”
There’s a growling behind him, and then Geralt is fisting a hand in the back of Jaskier’s doublet. The touch is electrifying, sending a shiver up his back from where Geralt’s finger brushes against his skin. “Leave her alone, Jaskier.”
She looks up at Geralt with doe eyes, and Jaskier pouts. He’d barely said two sentences; he was backing off without Geralt having to come and play the shining white knight. Jaskier wonders if he looks that completely hopeless when he looks at Geralt.
He shudders. He hopes not.
He yanks away from Geralt’s and turns to the steps to climb up to their shared room, facing another night alone.
He sighs.
-
In the next city they come to, Jaskier tries his luck again. Geralt sent him to get his sword sharpened, and Jaskier had squinted at him in confusion, because doesn’t Geralt do that himself?
Geralt had shooed him away with something about honing instead of sharpening; Jaskier always tunes him out as soon as he takes on that dry tone that means he’s about to give Jaskier a lecture. Jaskier can think of better uses of his time, like admiring Geralt’s forearms, just for starters.
Jaskier hands the swords over to the blacksmith, and he takes them over to his grindstone. Jaskier watches in interest as he tilts the blade this way and that, pumping with his foot to make the stone turn. The man has thick fingers that look plenty skilled and Jaskier gulps as he wonders what they might feel like inside of him, around him. He doesn’t think about the times he’s had those same thoughts about Geralt.
He’s sure if he just ignores them, they’ll go away. That’s how feelings work, right?
He subtly unlaces a few strings at the top of his doublet, putting on his most dashing grin when the smith is finally finished with Geralt’s sword.
“Nice craftsmanship, here,” the man grunts.
“It’s a witcher’s sword,” Jaskier confides, and when the man lights up in interest instead of disgust, Jaskier feels drawn a little closer.
He is quite handsome.
“Really? Where did you get it?”
Jaskier laughs. “From a witcher, of course. He’s my travelling companion.”
The smith draws back from him. “Oh, of course. My apologies; please pass along my compliments to him.”
Jaskier looks down at himself idly, wondering if not enough chest hair is on display. He’s certain he picked up on a whiff of interest when he came into the shop.
“Now that I think about it, I saw you two come into town earlier, didn’t I? You were riding on the horse.”
“Well, that’s just because one of my shoes had ripped, normally he makes me walk the entire way.”
The man quirks an eyebrow at him, clearly in disbelief. “Uh huh. He lifted you off the horse to help you down. That doesn’t exactly sound like the kind of guy who’s going to make you walk a hundred miles.”
Jaskier blows a hard breath through his nose, because this is just his luck, a complete stranger taking Geralt’s side over him. Geralt had only done that because Jaskier had griped so much about how stiff sitting in the saddle was making him. Jaskier grabs the sword off the counter, nearly cutting himself in the process. “Well, fine. Have a lovely day.”
The smith stares at him in bemusement as Jaskier leaves the shop in a huff.
When he gets back to the inn, Jaskier drops Geralt’s swords on the floor of their room in a clatter, making Geralt look up as he stomps back downstairs and stops in front of the first woman he sees. He’s so damn tired of Geralt monopolizing his thoughts when he’s not even there.
He actually makes some progress, this time, the woman receptive and giggling to what he says. He’s just dropped into the seat across from her, focusing his full attention on her as she tells him about a dog she’s seen about the village, when another man strolls up to the table with a pinched expression.
Jaskier flits his gaze back to the woman, who is now giggling nervously and sighs. Of course this is her husband. “Greetings, my good sir,” he cries, popping out of the chair.
“Why were you talking to my wife?” he growls.
“Oh, I was just getting her opinion on—”
He takes a threatening step towards Jaskier before Geralt appears at Jaskier’s shoulder, making him jump back and his heart race. “Gods, Geralt.”
“What’s the problem here?”
“He was trying to seduce my wife!”
Jaskier snorts, because the wife seemed a little more than receptive to him, but he keeps his mouth shut.
Geralt frowns, putting a large hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. It feels like a brand, sending a jolt of heat to his skin. “I certainly hope not. You wouldn’t do that, right, love?”
Jaskier nearly chokes on his own spit at Geralt’s use of the pet name.
“No, no, certainly not.”
“Good,” Geralt says pleasantly, but the thunderous look on his face is anything but. “Glad we cleared that up.”
He practically drags Jaskier away from the couple and back up the stairs. “I swear, I can’t leave you alone for two minutes.”
“Sorry,” he squeaks as Geralt pulls him dangerously close.
“Anything I could do to keep you out of trouble?”
Jaskier’s gaze flickers down to Geralt’s lips, gods damn him, and his breath catches when he looks back up to see Geralt looking at his.
“I can think of one thing,” he ventures.
Geralt hums. “Yeah?”
Jaskier takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before he grips Geralt’s shirt, and yanks Geralt towards him, crushing their lips together. Geralt kisses him like he’s been just waiting for Jaskier to make the first move, and Jaskier wonders how much time he’s wasted. When he finally pulls back, he’s panting. He smooths his thumb over Geralt’s cheekbone. “Yeah.”
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