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kiame-sama · 2 years

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Bunny (yandere!Monster!Adult-trio x Bunny-girl!Reader)

Warnings; Naga!Illumi, Drider!Chrollo, Harpy!Hisoka, yandere, drugging, venom use on reader, mention of violence, mention of prey/predator behavior, nsfw, lemon, oviposition, bunny-girl reader, slight!Yandere Zoldyck fam x reader, cross-species breeding is a thing so a hare and a bunny could successfully make a viable infant (even though this isn't technically true) meaning a Drider could cross with a Harpy or ect., monster au,

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"... Is this really needed?"

You frowned, looking at the shredded bed, knowing one of you would have to pay for the destruction of the furniture. The culprit in question was busy shredding the extra blankets and adding them to his intricately made nest, woven full of soft pillows, stuffing, shredded clothing, blankets, towels, pieces of the bed, and foam topper it had. The only intact blanket was in your arms as you planned on using it, despite the comforting warmth your Harpy lover let off.

Those feathers weren't just for show, after all. They provided great levels of insulation against the cold, acting like a blanket in their own way, but you wanted something soft and cuddly, which his flight feathers just weren't. Despite the way he pouted, he left the one blanket to you while everything else went into the nest.

"Yes. It is needed and it is important.♦"

You slightly frowned at Hisoka while he grinned, those golden predatory eyes keeping you locked in place. There was a time where you would have considered running but now you knew better than to flee from the predators that had taken an interest in you. You weren't a fool and you knew how dangerous these three lovers of yours truly were.

You were safe from them and they made it fairly clear they no longer wished to kill you, but you still were aware they would never let you leave them. One was a Naga assassin, lethal in almost every way including in the fact that he was venomous and could control his venom extremely well. The second being the drider leader of a very dangerous group of individuals known as the phantom troupe, his golden silk infused with unique nen properties and being venomous as well. Then there was Hisoka, your jester Harpy lover who had wickedly sharp talons and a tendency toward casual homicide of the people around him.

"It's done. Come and rest little bunny~"

You shivered slightly but moved towards the harpy anyway, pulling your blanket along with you. Climbing into the nest was easier now than it had been early on in the shared obsession, slowly adjusting to being around predators at all moments of your life. There were still times where you felt afraid around your lovers and your prey instincts kicked in, but you had gotten adjusted to suppressing them as best you could.

The nest was comfortable, and Hisoka's wings did wonderfully to insulate the soft cushion all around you. As if you were laying in a giant pillow with the harpy curling up next to you, begrudgingly allowing the blanket to rest over the two of you. It may have been a difficult task to adjust to the predators that claimed you, but at least you could rest easy now even with a predator laying on top of you.

~~~~~~~~

The large coils of the beast lay in a haphazard pile, as if a kind of nest or bed was made out of the muscular scaled body that lay curled upon the soft surface of a mattress. Contained within this living nest was a soft and gentle looking woman, her large bunny ears laying back against her head as she slept. She was curled into the coils and seemed rather peaceful for a prey creature such as herself especially given the fact she was laying in the embrace of a Naga.

Said Naga was currently awake, looking at his phone with an almost bored expression as he waited for his darling bunny to wake. A naga and a bunny don't seem like a good mix, given how dangerous naga can be- especially to soft bunnies- it would seem almost foolish to even entertain the thought that the pair were together. Yet, here they were, content to exist together despite the fact they were natural enemies.

Usually at this time in the morning, naga would be out sunning in the early rays to try and warm their reptilian half, but this particular naga was content with the heat radiating from the soft woman in his coils. Illumi's inky black hair hung freely around his shoulders, his vibrantly patterned scales almost clashing with his dark hair and eyes even when he sat in a dark room where the only light was coming from his phone. He was comfortable in the dark and he didn't wish to turn on any lights in worry that it may wake the sleeping bunny.

He was currently texting his two confidants who had been demanding updates on the well-being of the woman they shared between them. The other two predators seeming rather concerned given the... Less than positive... Reaction that their bunny had in response to meeting Illumi's parents. The poor thing almost went into cardiac arrest from panic and shock when suddenly faced with two terrifyingly powerful and intimidating Naga. Illumi was frightening enough on his own, but the addition of his parents was almost too much for that fragile bunny heart to take.

The slow opening of his door drew Illumi's full attention, tail coiling and twisting in such a way that you were now sheltered by countless coils of the iron-hard scales that adorned Illumi's body. In the doorway awaited Illumi's parents, both clearly interested in how you were settling down now that it was after the absolute panic you had been in when first meeting them. A prey animal among predators was rather rare sight, and they truly did wish to meet you without scaring you half to death.

Illumi was their most unfeeling son, yet he seemed to actually show some level of emotion, which is far more than he had ever done previously so they knew you had an impact on him. That and they thought you were adorable given the fact you were a tiny bunny among a nest of extremely powerful Naga. Prey animals were rare and even rarer anywhere near the estate.

Most knew better than to approach the mountain where the family of assassin Naga lived, so you were a welcome and rare sight to the mountain's inhabitants. Illumi's mother in particular wanted to play with and pet your soft ears especially because she has had very little interaction with prey animals outside of contracts. You were just so darn cute it was hard for even the stoic assassin nagas to ignore you.

"What is it?"

Illumi growled, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't rouse you from your slumber, knowing just how well those big bunny ears worked. He was being aggressive, but his parents neither responded nor cared about the threatening tone Illumi had. It was understandable for him to be protective of you, given your status as his mate and the fact you were a soft little bunny.

"Just checking how she is settling in."

"She's fine. She would be better without your presence in a room while she is sleeping. Her instincts will wake up long before she does."

"She gets on just fine in the presence of you and your compatriots."

"She's used to us, not you. Even then, she can occasionally go into shock should one of us surprise her."

"Oh, quit being selfish, Illumi, we just want to meet the bunny."

Illumi felt movement in his coils, quickly unwinding them as to not distress you more than you already had been. Your ears twitched slightly and one rose up, your nose working overtime to snuffle and take stock of your surroundings. Luckily, due to being wrapped in Illumi's coils, you could only pick up his scent and that soothed you immensely.

Slowly lifting your head you rest your chin on one of the higher coils, not even bothering to open your eyes. Your ears were perked, but not standing straight up as you weren't fully awake yet, still in that blissful spot between sleep and awareness.

"Illumi..?"

"Yes, Bunny?"

"Shouldn't you be outside sunning? It's morning..."

"I didn't wish to wake you."

"But you'll be cold and tired all day..."

"I can always sun later."

You frowned slightly at this, rubbing your cheek absently against the smooth scales as you cuddled into the warm spot you had made among the coiled scales. Your eyes slowly blinking over as you glanced around deliriously in the dark room. It may have been hard to see, but you became aware of more than just Illumi's presence.

Illumi knew you caught his parents' scents as your ears stood up stock straight, your eyes snapping open and body poised to flee with the slightest provocation. No one moved a muscle as you stayed in that poised position legs tense beneath you. A pillow falling from the bed set you into motion, trying to flee whatever way you could only to have the coils tighten around you.

The squeal that escaped your lips made Illumi sigh as he pulled you over to his upper half, holding you as still as he could without hurting you. You were in panic mode and clearly not going to calm down without help, the venom gathering in his fangs. He had done this plenty of times before when he and his fellow predator compatriots first decided to share you, back before you relented to their wants and the fact you were not escaping them. You gave a good fight before you relented, having initially been prey of sorts to a game the three were playing.

It may have felt like a lifetime ago, but he still knew the exact amount to calm you considerably and not kill you, as unethical as others may see it to be. They were killers and venom was just part of a Naga's life.

You went rigid for a moment as his fangs sank into your neck, before completely going slack, pupils blown wide. You took deep breaths and relaxed into the coils, not even attempting to run as they slowly released you. Now that you were much calmer and subdued, the other two nagas deemed it safe to approach without upsetting you too much.

Your body limp and completely relaxed as you lay in a dazed state, too calm and tired to fight or worry about what was going on around you.

~~~~~~~~

The web beneath you vibrated slightly as you tried to find your footing as well as keep your panic to a minimum. Chrollo was putting another heist into motion and left you up in his web while he talked to the troupe. You didn't know them, but you could tell by the collective scent around you that most of the troupe members were predators.

You were vaguely thankful to be up in the large web, even if it was difficult to navigate for you. Chrollo made it seem so easy to walk on while he was building the nest, but you were struggling to stay upright and not trip. The ground had tension as spider-silk was unnaturally strong, but you struggled to navigate it due to the elasticity and stickiness of it.

The heart of this den was a section where 'nesting silk' had been used instead of the typical silk. Driders could spin all manner of silk that served different functions in the web, from non-sticky nesting silk, to sticky webbing silk, to thicker and extremely sticky support silk to keep the web suspended. The cradle made of silk was primarily webbing that you struggled to move through.

No doubt Chrollo knew you were moving around, several large spider legs resting on different strands of silk that allowed him to keep track of all movement. The worry of falling while on webbing silk meant you had to wait until Chrollo freed you and try to resist your prey instincts to struggle. You had been tangled many times in his web and he was amused by your embarrassment every time you got tangled.

All you wanted was a peak at the troupe your drider lover commanded, was that so bad?

Your harpy lover, Hisoka, was actually present for once even though he had a tendency of refusing to show to almost every gathering. The only time Hisoka was consistently present was when it was time to switch you off between your lovers. He had tried to 'skip' handing you off to Chrollo only once before Chrollo and Illumi tracked you both down.

He wasn't bothered that they were upset with him, he was bothered that you were upset with him. Naturally, as it was drawing close to Hisoka's turn, he ensured to arrive on time, if only to give Chrollo grief over it. That or he wanted to keep an eye on the Troupe as it would be the first time you were to meet them and he didn't entirely trust Chrollo to keep you safe.

You had been up in the web for a good bit of time now and you longed to stretch your legs, your Hare heritage showing as you became more antsy in your pacing. The truth was, you were so focused on pacing that you didn't even realize Chrollo had returned to the abandoned building's canopy to check on you. He could tell you were impatient and watched you pace the web for a moment, observing you figuring out where to step and where to avoid.

"Are you ready to meet the others, Bunny?"

~~~~~~~~

The feeling of being surrounded was threatening in more ways than just one, seeing as the three that surrounded you were not only your lovers, but natural predators. Despite your fear, you knew you were going to live, but you were certainly in for a long night. It had been a while since you had been with all three of them at once, so you worried that you may not be able to take them, especially since they each had unique ways of mating.

Naga typically had two cocks, so Illumi was able to fill you up just by himself. Chrollo was large in general with his abnormal spider size, typically making it so you were only able to take him alone. Hisoka had a tendency of being greedy with your soft holes, not wanting to share you with his compatriots. The thing was, they were finally interested in trying for young, however that meant you were going to be pumped full of eggs as they all demanded equal chance of reproducing with you.

You knew it was going to be uncomfortable with Naga eggs, Drider eggs, and Harpy eggs all fighting for space inside of you, and you knew your body would take to it all too well. You were a bunny, after all. Breeding was the thing bunnies typically did best at, even if you were less than pleased with the idea.

Luckily for you, the eggs all started about the same size and your body would take to them as it would eggs from your ovaries, incubating them for a while and consuming the unfertilized ones. You were worried about the implications of carrying young for either of these three men, but you would convince yourself that it was for the best to go along with what they wanted. If that meant they wanted you to bear a brood, that is what you will likely be doing for them.

"Don't worry, Bunny, we'll do everything for you. Just lay back and let us take care of you."

You felt the light scrape of venom tipped fangs against your leg, knowing Chrollo would likely use his aphrodisiac venom on you to help you take more. That paired with the light amount of venom Illumi sank into you through holes punctured in your neck, you were going to cloud nine and likely staying there.

Everything seemed to begin to blur together, time slowly fading away as pleasure took over your body. You really didn't know which one of your lovers it was at that moment, and you really didn't care all that much. You were comfortable and not about to let anything trivial get in the way of being filled up, mewling and moaning out in bliss while you let your lovers pound you senseless.

From the stretch of Illumi's dual cocks both shoved into your soft hole, to Chrollo's intimidating girth and length, and finally to Hisoka's skill and rather impressive cock that could swell into near extreme size all while remaining inside of you. You could feel every time one reached their orgasm, feeling as if you were enduring one long never ending orgasm the entire time. Mewling as your stomach was filled more and more each time, starting to swell up with how much the three were putting into you each time they orgasmed.

There was little you could do besides lay as limply as possible and let the three have their way with you. Hisoka's claws holding you tightly, Illumi's scales rubbing and coiling around your body, Chrollo's large spider legs winding around you and caging you up against him. All three fucking you their unique way and all three actually helping one another as you were switched off from one to the other.

Luckily, the mixtures of venoms in your body kept you nice an relaxed, unbothered by your own overstimulation and ever increasing stomach size. When the three were finally finished pumping you as full as possible, you were too far gone to really bother with much.

You tried to calm down, panting heavily as your feet occasionally kicked from time to time, your instincts to flee trying to make you move even though you clearly didn't have the energy to do much of anything. Your bunny instincts wanting nothing more than to enter a warren and cuddle up for a nap, but the predatorial scent around you kept you from fully relaxing. Your stomach was soft and bloated, clearly showing just how filled you were with the three's brood as you lay fucked out on the large bed.

"Think we went overboard?"

"... Maybe."

#x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #yandere monster #yandere spooktober #yandere adult trio x reader #yandere adult trio #yandere monster x reader #tw yandere #tw stockholm syndrome #tw overstimulation #tw obsessive behavior #tw oviposition

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

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The Best Cure For Anger

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Request: Omg! I love your writing !!!!!! Especially Billy Russo😈. Could I please request beyond smut for him? Like where Billy comes home pissed off about something with Anvil so he comes home to his penthouse where reader is, when she tries to talk to him he just lifts her up and brings her to the bedroom? And he just throws her on the bed and handcuffs her to the bed! And just has his way with her(roughly)😈 then some soft aftercare after! I’m Sorry this is long I’ve been sitting on this imagine for awhile. -xx

A/N: Enjoyyyy...

Warnings: cursing, smut, fluff,

(Under 18s avert your eyes and scroll on by)

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You were sitting on the sofa in your pyjamas, TV on as you waited for Billy to get home. It was a little later than usual and he’d called you at lunch. He’d been pissed off, a lot of things going wrong, people not doing what they were told, and there was a chance one of the recruits fucked up so badly it could cost Anvil a very big contract. Billy hadn’t been happy. You were unsure which way it would go when he finally got home. When he’d have a bad day, sometimes he’d come home tired and enjoy you looking after him. He’d allow you to just take care of him and let him unwind as he told you about the shit that was going on. But a few times he’d come back home that angry that you’d had some pretty intense sex. You were never sure just what would happen.

The front door opened and you turned to look, jumping out of your skin at the force of which Billy slammed it back closed. You watched him carefully as he kicked off his shoes, yanking off his suit jacket and tie furiously. He looked livid, you couldn’t ever remember him looking this mad before. If you were anyone else, you’d be scared. You got up from where you sat, padding over to him slowly.

“Hey, baby. I take it, it didn't go well?” you asked softly, your brows furrowed. His dark eyes turned to you then, fire swirling behind them as he stalked right over and closed the distance between you. Suddenly, you were over his shoulder with a squeak as he took long quick strides to the bedroom. You weren’t embarrassed to admit you felt the thrill running through you. You had a bit of a thing for knowing how dangerous he could be and angry sex with him was always interesting. You’d never seen him this mad though.

He tossed you on the bed and you bounced around a little, blinking up at him and he made quick work of the rest of his clothes. His jaw was clenched tightly, nostrils flaring as he harshly threw his clothes into a pile on the floor. His deadly eyes turned to you then and your cheeks flushed, squeezing your thighs together as a very predatory smirk spread across his lips. He looked absolutely sinful in that moment, all naked and enraged. You might have let out a soft moan.

He moved over to the closet and you swallowed thickly, knowing just what things lay behind that door.

“I’ve had… the worst day. And you…” he drawled, trailing off as he turned back around to face you. A pair of handcuffs were dangling from his fingers as his eyes gave you a good long look before they settled on your face. He wasn't smiling, not even smirking anymore. His top lip was slightly curled as he tilted his head and regarded you with his intense gaze.

“You are gonna make it all better, sweetheart,” he finished almost threateningly, raising a brow like he was begging for you to defy him. You didn’t though. You gave him a shaky nod, wanting him to take out his frustrations on you, needing him to. When you didn't argue with him, he smirked finally, walking over to you slowly as you just lay there on the bed.

He climbed onto the bed, the handcuffs catching the light and drawing your eyes. He chuckled, the sound low and sinful as he grasped your wrists roughly and pinned them above your head. He handcuffed one wrist before threading it through a slat in the headboard and then securing the other, keeping you in place. You gave your wrists an instinctive tug but the handcuffs were on snug, you weren't going anywhere. Billy watched you test them out with a dark yet amused looking smile, seemingly satisfied you wouldn't be going anywhere. He reached out, snatching up the big ass knife that lived on his nightstand before he settled between your legs, watching down at you with such fire you were surprised you didn't explode.

You watched with wide eyes as he twirled the knife around, your breathing intensifying as he gave you a wicked grin, sliding the knife up through your tank top. You felt the cold metal tickle up your skin until the tip of the blade was poking out near your breasts. You stayed very still, eyes locked on him as he raised both brows at you mockingly. But then with the sharp end angled towards him, he dragged his knife along, pulling it up and slicing the fabric right down the middle with ease, letting your breasts spill out.

He bit his lip, eyes trailing your body like they were devouring you and you squirmed now the knife wasn’t near your skin. Knife still in hand, he moved it then to your tiny shorts and panties, slicing them right off too. He tossed the knife on the nightstand carelessly, impatiently tugging off the ruined garments and flinging them across the room. He’d switched from slow and teasing to feral in a blink because suddenly you were crying out in surprise and pleasure as his large dick slammed into you without warning. The groan he let out was pure filth and he hovered over you, arms caging you in. He didn't give you time to adjust, he started pounding into you relentlessly and all you could do was squirm and writhe against his cock as he took what he wanted from you.

“Billy!” You gasped, back arching as he gripped your hips and knelt back up. He used the grip on you to keep you in place as he fucked into you hard and fast, your breasts bouncing around at the force of it. He growled at hearing his name like that, fingers biting into the flesh of your hips so tight you knew they'd be bruised when he was done.

You were moaning and gasping, eyes glued to him and how beautiful he looked. He looked feral with desire, lost in his own pleasure as he used your body to pleasure himself. His lips were parted, dirty moans and grunts leaving them with his eyes shut like he'd found his own little slice of heaven. Usually, Billy always made sure you came first, multiple times in most cases. Your pleasure was important to him. But right now he was only focused on his own as he roughly pounded into you and made your body jostle with the force. It was turning you on so much though, watching him like this, letting him take everything he wanted from you. You felt the pleasure building up at a rapid rate as you just watched him.

His large hands slid around to your back a little, pulling your hips up slightly and changing the angle. You let out a needy moan, tugging at the handcuffs as he laughed darkly through a moan of his own. The angle had him hitting your sweet spot over and over and you felt half crazed as you lay there helplessly and moaned like a bitch. His own noises were getting rougher, more feral sounding as he absolutely railed you with his big cock. You were sure you wouldn't be able to walk after he was done with you. You were chanting his name like a fervent prayer and he groaned at the sound, leaning over you as he continued his brutal pace and wrapped a hand around your throat. You gasped, eyes snapping open as you came hard around his cock, a wailing moan ripping out of you and echoing in the bedroom. You bucked against him, body spasming at the force of your orgasm and he growled, squeezing your throat as he fucked into you a few more times and then spilled himself inside of you with a lewd moan. He gave a few more lazy thrusts before he hung his head, panting and sweaty. You lay there on cloud nine, a soft hum leaving your lips as you tried to come back down to earth.

His hand left your throat then and you felt his lips replace it, peppering your skin with the softest of kisses. You smiled through your bliss, eyes fluttering open once more as you gently tugged at the handcuffs, wanting to stroke his hair. He moved away a little, grabbing the key from near his knife and undoing your restraints quickly. He took each wrist in his hands, thumbs stroking the skin gently before he brought them both to his mouth and kissed them. You watched his face with a smile. His hair was all over, making him look softer and more endearing. He was sweaty, his cheeks a little flushed. But he looked so calm now.

He leaned down, kissing your lips tenderly, lingering there for a moment. You deepened the kiss, loving how he parted his own instantly to grant you the access you wanted. His tongue tangled with yours languidly and you sighed into the kiss, melting into it completely as you ran a hand through his dishevelled locks. When he pulled away, his dark eyes locked onto yours, scanning your face for a moment.

“Was that alright?” he murmured, worry lacing his tone. You’d both gone at each other rough before but he always worried about you when the moment was over, no matter how much you told him you loved it.

“More than alright,” you replied with a smile. His lips tugged up then as he moved to lay next to you, gathering you in his arms so your head lay on his chest. The steady and calm beating of his heart was soothing as you snuggled up into him. One of his hands held you close while the other went to your hair, fingers tenderly massaging your scalp.

“Do you feel any better?” You asked softly after a moment of you both just enjoying being close to one another. He nuzzled your hair, kissing the top of your head as his other arm tightened around you.

“Much better,” he replied, you could hear the smirk even if you couldn't see it.

You were exhausted after that and knew Billy would be too, he’d already been tired and worn out after the day he’d had. He fell asleep first, his breathing coming in soft and deep as his body relaxed. You lay there tiredly with a smile on your face. You knew what the morning would bring. He’d call in work late, not giving a shit about what needed to be done. You’d have breakfast and a sweet bunch of flowers waiting for you on the dining table. He’d be overly affectionate and sweet, hands never leaving you as he doted on you. That's what always happened when you’d played a little rough in the bedroom. You slowly drifted off to sleep in his arms feeling safe, a dopey smile on your face.

Taglist:

(If you asked to be added but aren't here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people for some reason)

@xceafh

@ssll2200

@traditional-morrigan13

@juniebugg

@xonickibaby

@lillianastras

@aleksanderwh0r3

@i-g-n-o-r-e--m-e

@itsallaboutkey

@papiazullll8

@not-too-tall-for-trick

@dontjinx-it

@kaleidoscopegirl

@voyevoda-thejoy

@s-corpionem

@blanchedelioncourt

@elleatrixlestrange

@strawb3rrydr3ss

@odetostep

@crowssixof

@katedrexel

@primadonnasdream

@fortheloveofallthatsholy

@supernaturalcat7

@honeyshores

@tanyaherondale

@acourtofsnakes

@weallhaveadestiny

@tomhollandisabae

@carnationworld

@nemesis729

@advictedtohim

@lady4punk

@thesandbeneathmytoes

@kassandra-of-troy

@blackbirddaredevil23

@nebulastarr

@ilkaeliseb

@runawayolives

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #the punisher

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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Here to Misbehave (Finale | S.R.)

Summary: It’s Halloween, and there are a lot of things on Spencer’s mind.

A/N: Here it is, everyone: the end of the story. Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this far. I greatly appreciate all of you, and I hope you enjoy it! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Penetrative sex, light D/s, mostly fluff! Word Count: 7.5k

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Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But she wasn’t a season, and when it came to my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Y/n)’s face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The truce was received poorly, her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration to continue, “I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are... wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway), clutching tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating the way my voice jumped a little bit. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway. The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough for me to let the full force of my affection show before she noticed.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she had hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it. Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate further into my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through a very amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression. “I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seatbelt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away. I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. My mind was brought back to the first time she ever let me know she was jealous, bickering over blondes and preferences while she sat in the very same place. And, just as before, she was still wearing the same raggedy old sweatshirt of mine.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a single thing that wouldn’t be better with her there. In a way, I think we were trying to prolong the high of ‘hooky,’ finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her? And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No! (Y/n)!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me. “This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season.”

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns despite not being able to indulge in anything herself. Although she did half-heartedly attempt to trick me into buying her drinks in several different establishments, I think she was honestly proud that I avoided the drinks altogether. It was a nice reminder that sobriety could be something enjoyed between the two of us, regardless of the environment. However, we didn’t let that stop us from jumping into a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear. The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

(Y/n) had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her 31-year-old FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned. And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. It took her a while to figure out why the route felt so familiar, but I wasn’t ready to ruin the surprise. I wanted to watch the realization dawn on her. She didn’t disappoint.

“The Mayflower?” she asked with a bit of a bashful laugh before looking up at me through narrowed eyes, “Feeling nostalgic, Dr. Reid?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Thought it was more romantic than the club,” I offered, trying to shrug off the nervous butterflies that burst through my stomach. “Not by much, mind you.”

Although I got the feeling that she didn’t know, or perhaps just didn’t remember, that wonderful night from almost a year ago was one of the most important days of my life. I knew it then, too. From the second I set my eyes on her from my pitiful place against the bar, I knew that she would ruin me.

“Nothing screams high end romance like an alley and a little light law breaking,” she sighed. I almost missed it, too preoccupied with the way her arm tugged me tighter so she could rest her head against my shoulder.

“I can take you home if you’d rather.”

“Hmmm. Depends,” she hummed. Then, turning her head up to me with that playful look that always turned me to putty in her hands, she purred, “How much longer do you think you can wait before you just have to have me?”

I sucked in a sharp, sarcastic breath, eyeing her just long enough for her to start to fume, I let out all the air with a defeated sigh, “I guess we’re staying.”

That serene sort of teasing continued past the reception desk and all the way up the elevator. If there were other people there, we didn’t bother noticing. We were too busy watching one another to even look away long enough to find our room. Doubling back through the dizzying hallways until we found the elusive number, we finally settled into the only vaguely familiar layout of beige and tan.

She was much quicker at it than I was. Before I’d even finished washing my hands and checking exposed skin for bugs that I was convinced had hitched a ride from the leaf pile, she was already stretched out on the bed in nothing but a tiny piece of lacy cotton and her favorite sweatshirt. The sight made me stop, lost for breath and logic of how I was lucky enough to be there with her again.

“See something you like, Dr. Reid?” she teased through giggles, no doubt recalling the same memory as me.

My answer didn’t need to be said, but I said it, anyway. She deserved to hear it.

“Yes.”

With arms outstretched, she sleepily begged, “Come here.”

But I couldn’t.

“Not yet… I just… I want to look at you like this a little bit longer.”

How could I move on from this moment, when it was the best I’d ever felt? So overwhelmingly safe and at home despite being in a strange, sterile room. I had no desire to move any inch of me if it meant that this image would persist for the rest of my days.

“You getting all romantic on me?”

“Always,” I chuckled. Her usual disgust for my sappy behavior didn’t show itself, overpowered by the gentle curve of her lips and hands that were becoming more and more insistent to be held. Eventually, I had to move, knowing that it was the only way to hold her.

My body reacted the way it always did when it found her. All of the tension dropped from tired shoulders, desperate to touch her more. To feel the imprint of her body pressed against mine, a mess of heat and need and love.

She was the one to kiss me first, and for a moment I let her do it without reciprocation. I wanted to feel how her touch became softer and shier as she realized what I was doing. That I was spending all of my energy memorizing the way her lips parted as she tried to hold back a giggle against my almost-still lips.

“What’s happening in that big genius brain of yours?” she murmured with eyes half open but still containing universes.

“I’m just thinking of all the things you’ve done to make me fall in love with you.”

I thanked all of the gods in every pantheon that made her too tired to tease. Instead, she just laughed, playing her part in bringing us back to that night we met.

“Like quote Picard?”

“We still haven’t watched Star Trek together,” I whined.

The sound must have stirred something new in her, because she rolled us over to take her seat on my lap. She hung over me, looking down at me, hopeless and breathless at the feel of her thighs under my hands. My heart started to race, but I didn’t know why.

It wasn’t until she spoke the words that were already running through my mind, “We’ve got time. Picard can wait.”

Everything about it was effortless. Our bodies had fallen together and mouths found each other exactly like every romance novel has ever tried to tackle the metaphor of gravity.

But if we were an orbit, it was not a binary like the traditional notion of two equal souls. Despite the nickname I’d chosen for her, nothing about her soul was small. And even though she burned bright, she wasn’t anything like the fiery combustion of a star.

She was a home. A thing so full of vitality and life that I would love to watch for whatever time I had left. I was just a moon, loyally following her and trying my best to shield her from whatever might try to harm her. To protect her when she needed rest and to lead the tides to kiss her when she wished. I would be her shadow, shining a light onto her even in the darkest time. All that I asked for in return was a spot beside her.

‘One day,’ she had said before, ‘if you will have me.’

But it was never a question. Not for me. And if she really needed me to answer it for her, I was happy to give her that. I hadn’t been waiting for even a year, but it felt like a lifetime.

“Yeah, he can,” I repeated, quiet and with such a heavy waver that I’m surprised she could understand the shifting inflections. Even if she didn’t, she knew that something had changed in those few seconds of silence.

“What’s up, Spencer?”

I didn’t know how to answer. How to explain what I was feeling. But I grabbed hold of one hand, clinging desperately to her and guiding her to the heart that felt dangerously light. The rapid pace of its beating still not enough to alert her of the true cacophony of my thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

The answer was yes. Because no matter how loud and chaotic the sounds inside my head were, they all lead me to the same conclusion.

“Picard can wait, and we have a lot of time,” I tried to explain through a dry throat that was only growing tighter with the unwieldy weight of the feeling.

“Yes…” she mumbled back, just as trepidatious and nervous as I was.

Just like I was. Because we were. We were connected by some force, whatever you want to call it. Whether it was a chemical or psychological or heavenly connection, I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how I felt. To know that there was nothing that would ever tear me away from her.

“But I don’t… I don’t think I want to wait.”

After a couple more seconds of silence, she answered with a knowing stare, “… What?”

From my position underneath her, I was able to reach over just enough to grab my jacket. Of course, it helped that she moved with me, clearly curious and terrified of the possibilities. But a good kind of terror… I hoped.

My confidence grew as her legs gripped tighter around my hips and her hands shot up to cover her chest with balled fists pressed against one another. I heard the friction of her skin as her body started to shake in a different way, with an adrenaline that I hadn’t seen from her in even the most dangerous situations.

But when I pulled a small velvet box from the internal pocket, everything stopped. She became completely still. Her eyes were wide and frozen on the object in my hands, only to look away when she heard my voice.

“(Y/n).”

“Where did you get that?” she asked like she hadn’t just seen me pull it from my jacket. The same jacket that I wore every time that I was with her. The wool fabric that she’d swaddled herself in on a number of occasions, none the wiser of how much heavier it was for me when I wore it.

“I know this is really random, a-and to be fair, I wasn’t expecting it, either,” I said through the most awkward laughs I’d ever produced (which was saying something), “I mean, I knew I wanted to marry you, I’ve known that for quite some time, hence the ring.”

I paused, but got nothing in response. Nothing except her lips quivering from their parted position, and her nose twitching as she tried to settle on just one expression. But it didn’t matter how she contorted her face; they were all exactly as they should be. Because they were all her.

“But today, with you… I-I’ve never been that happy in my life. Jumping in leaves and fighting over fall flavors and I—“

Her eyes stopped bouncing, settling with my gaze and robbing my lungs of all air. She made up her mind, deciding to leave everything exactly as it was. The honest truth of the overwhelming storm of every emotion that had been experienced in the little time we had shared together.

The knowing that everything had happened exactly as it should have to bring us here.

“I love you so much,” I whispered, careful to make every word as genuine as they were, “And I know that we have all the time in the world left with one another… but I don’t want to wait any longer for you to be my wife.”

“Ask me,” she answered immediately and abruptly.  

“Okay,” I laughed, endlessly entertained by how she could sound so aggressive even when we were both at our most vulnerable, caught in the nexus of our love.

“Um… Will you… marry me?”

There was no hesitation. No worry, no fear, and no doubt.

“Yes, you stupid old man!” she outright screamed, throwing arms around me even when it meant we both slammed against pillows and the headboard. She didn’t stop squealing even when she kissed me, struggling to find more of me to hold onto.

After she decided that tugging on my hair was the best way to express her affection, I managed to break away just long enough to shout, “Wait! I have to put the ring on you!”

“Then put it on!” she yelled, thrusting her hand in front of my face and practically slapping me in the process. But none of the pain mattered. Nothing was even recognizable outside of the feeling of her sweaty, shaking palm resting against my fingers.

I noticed for the first time that I was also trembling. I took the time to focus, slipping the ring over her finger. But once it started to safely slide into place, my eyes returned to watch what I knew to be happy tears fall over her cheeks. I wiped them away, but they were replaced with the wetness from my face when she brought us together again with a long, gentle kiss.

A calmness came over the room like the feeling following a storm. A clean slate with soil enriched for growth. A hope for a future forever changed.

“What do we do now?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and holding tight to my hands.

The answer seemed clear enough.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

Is this really happening?

I stared at the diamond shining back at me with a clarity that had to be a metaphor for my heart. In the vague reflection of yellow light and us, I felt a warmth that doesn’t normally accompany metal. My finger’s new companion felt so comfortable in its new resting place. A constant reminder of the man I called home.

Then I turned back to him, unsure how I was supposed to move on from this moment. I never wanted to leave, but I also needed to move. I compromised and settled with my face against his chest, listening to the heartbeat he’d just dedicated to me. In that peaceful quiet, I heard him speak so softly I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it.

But I did.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said with fingers dancing through the ends of my hair, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And for once, the thought didn’t feel like a burden. In fact, it felt like freedom. I was finally free to be who I was without worry that I would be alone. Without worrying that I would be too much or too little to please him.

I was enough.

Enough.

“I love you,” I said, tasting salt from tears I hadn’t even noticed were falling.

Curiously, and in a rare role switch, Spencer was the one who took a blatantly affectionate display and turned it into something else. Pulling me away from his chest, he dragged me up until he could drag his lips over my jaw.

“Don’t cry, little girl,” he cooed with what I could only imagine was a wicked grin, “I haven’t given you a reason to yet.”

Something about that gruff rumble in his throat caused my skin to ripple with goosebumps. Every inch of me burned with flames that could only be put out by his touch. I chased after his lips with my own, but he was insistent on trailing down my throat. He knew I would be powerless to him. I wouldn’t be able to argue when my hands were knotted in his hair and my hips were already rocking helplessly against his erection.

“I want you to fuck me,” I seethed. My blood was boiling from the heat I felt within, and before he could even answer I was already working at the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh? You don’t want me to make love to you?” Spencer laughed. As if that had ever been our style.

“No, I want you to take what’s yours.”

He responded to the demand by pushing me from my seat, forcing me onto my back on the other end of the bed. I wasn’t going to complain, either. The new position allowed me access to his belt, which I unbuckled before he even had time to laugh.

“Are you really challenging me right now, little girl?”

But despite the taunt, he did nothing to stop me. His hands were also busy removing my clothes. And just like before, our nakedness was reciprocated. With each lost layer, I should have felt lighter, but I didn’t. I felt so powerful, so aware of how our bare bodies twined together.

“Here, of all places? Do you remember what I did to you that night?”

How could I ever forget?

“I’m not the same girl you had in your bed then,” I purred. We both knew it was true, although not in the way I was implying.

Because Spencer had changed me. Irrevocably. He taught me so much — not just about physics, literature, or criminology, either. He taught me about kindness, softness, and vulnerability. He taught me how to trust that someone could hold me without the intention of letting me go. More than anything, he taught me that I didn’t have to learn these things alone. Even the smartest man I’d ever met needed help with them sometimes.

Then again, something told me that Spencer wasn’t in a very humble mood. Perhaps it was the fact he’d pinned me down again, with his hands clumsily gripping hard enough to leave crescent moons in my forearms.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he growled with a small, chaste kiss, “You’re still just a fucking brat.”

I wasn’t feeling bratty then, though. Especially not as I felt the head of his cock pressed against me, just hard enough to feel the resistance of my body. He waited there, no doubt taking pleasure in the way my whole body squirmed underneath him. My hips bucked, but he managed to keep a cruelly steady distance.

“You’re so precious when you’re needy,” he mumbled. And although I stubbornly avoided looking him in the eyes out of protest, he forced my face towards him again, anyway. “Go on. Say please.”

“Fuck off,” I whined through a prominent pout that did me no favors.

“Say it.”

“Please!”

I managed to make eye contact, but it was fleeting. As soon as he thrust forward into me, my back arched and I lost myself in the pillows. My hands found him, though, leaving angry red welts over heated skin. If Spencer was at all affected by the pain, he made no showing of it. His pace continued, steadily forcing our bodies together until I trembled in his hands.

He would hold me there, at my limit but not pleading for him to do anything different. With tender hands, he would fuck me until I swore bruises would follow. But I never felt unsafe; I felt cared for and cherished in a way I’d never known. I trusted him to know my limits better than myself.

I trusted him with all of me because I had already seen that when given the chance, he would do whatever he could to protect me.

The love I felt must have shone through my eyes because his hips got slower, drawing out each movement. My hips rose in tandem with his, allowing me to feel every inch of him inside of me.

“This body belongs to me now and forever,” he whispered.

It always has.

“You belong to me.”

And I felt it. The undeniable string of fate that tied us to each other. I could feel his every emotion as his fingers brushed over my throat. I melted under his touch, completely consumed by the love he felt for me. The kind of love that people spent their whole lives searching for only to come up empty. That powerful thing that drove gods to war and men to madness.

The only feeling that could tear down every wall that had been carefully crafted to protect myself. Because I didn’t need them anymore. Spencer’s arms would take their place, holding me through the storms that might follow the same way he had carried me through the ones that led us here.

“Yes,” I breathed, “I’m yours.”

For forever and whatever comes after.

The words were truer than they’d ever been before, and Spencer took it as permission to let go of any remaining hesitation. The slow, gentle thrusts became faster and our moans echoed in the small room without a second thought to the poor patrons in the rooms surrounding us. Because if they felt what we did, they would understand. Spencer still tried to hush the sounds, crashing his lips over mine in a sloppy, frenzied kiss.

I was suddenly reminded of every romantic story I’d ever heard. They all spoke of feeling so close to someone that they felt like an extension of yourself. I wasn’t sure if it was completely true, but there was no denying how at home our bodies were. The way our tongues wrapped around one another and how our noses bumped so gently in the chaos was unmatched by any meeting driven by lust or need.

His hips met mine over and over again, no matter how hard I tried to keep him closer. Even when my hips chased his to be held longer, Spencer was persistent in the ruthless pace. Because like me, he was lost in the euphoria. I knew it from the sound of his whimpers and the way he bit my lip just a little bit harder.

“Tell me what you want, little girl,” he begged. Not ordered. Begged.

“You,” I answered without any doubt, “I just want you.”

His response came even faster, even more desperate and scratchy as it came through his lips into mine.

“You have me. For the rest of my life and whatever comes after, I will take care of you.”

There was nothing left to say. I could feel the truth and force behind the words as he fucked me harder, eliciting one more quiet cry from me in the sound of his name.

“Spencer...”

When he returned the call, though, it wasn’t with any name I’d heard from him before.

“So you better get used to this feeling,” he said through a smile that I felt on my lips before he drew back. He looked me in the eye as he buried himself in me, tensing to hold himself back just a few seconds longer. To see the look on my face and let that be the feeling of us giving in to each other for the first time in our new story.

“Because I’m never going to grow tired of this, Mrs. Reid.”

Mrs. Reid.

That was going to be my name.

Mrs. Reid.

That was the only thought running through my mind as I felt the coil in my gut snap and all of my muscles tense around him. There were no whorish sounds left in my lungs, only little whimpers and whines as I tried to claw him closer. Spencer gave up his visual in exchange for kissing me while he finished. My walls held him so tightly that I felt each pulse and every place where his release filled me. But nothing was more compelling than feeling the way his lip quivered between mine as his body fell onto mine with no grace required.

Spencer could act hard all he wanted, but I felt the way he craved softness. Safety. Love. All things I was happy to give… for a price.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?” he replied sleepily but animated enough to have a healthy dose of snark. Snark that earned him a rough nudge of my elbow into his ribs.

“You know!”

But naturally, the genius had to play dumb. With a happy little hum, he snuggled closer to me, burying his face into my neck so he could mumble against the skin, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Please,” I sighed, “for me?”

He seemed to contemplate the plea for a little while longer, with wiggling toes I felt against my shins and a happy sigh that breezed over my neck. I tried to take in those small things while I waited, knowing that while I had a lifetime to learn them, this moment would never come again.

“Fine,” he finally settled, propping himself up to give another soft kiss followed by the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Only for you, Mrs. Reid.”

—— The Next Morning ——

Waking up next to Spencer with a ring on my finger was literally waking up to find my dream come to life. And sure, his light snoring and constant wriggling under the sheets he continued to pull off of me weren’t perfect or picturesque, but they were real. The same way that he chirped when he felt my legs wrap around him in his sleep and only woke when he heard me giggling.

His eyes fluttered open, taken aback by something that he saw. Although I would blame it on the sunlight filtering through the curtains, I was sure that he would give me all the credit.

“Good morning,” he slurred.

“Hi,” I answered with a smile and an attempt to pull him closer. But my hand was stopped by his, squeezing my palm between his fingers before dragging my knuckles to his lips. From there, he laid a gentle kiss over the diamond he’d placed there the night before. Although it was strange to be outshone by a rock, I let it go for now.

“I know you shouldn’t sleep with it on, but it’s so nice to see it’s still there,” he said with a heavy breath before lowering our still joined hands to rest against his heart. I could feel the way it beat a little bit quicker as I came closer, and I wondered if this was really what it would be like forever.

“I couldn’t resist wearing it.”

“You know you can still change your mind, right? We haven’t told anyone.”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I replied unlike every time before. There was no teasing, no joke or anger or sadness. Just a pure, unadulterated joy.

… Of course, the question did bring up an entirely new anxiety. It did feel a bit silly, but it needs to be expressed.

“Have you?”

“God, no,” he laughed. Like he’d only asked the question to see the way I might panic. But as soon as I heard his assurance, I knew it was the truth.

My mind started to drift back to that first morning we spent together. It felt like a lifetime ago, but everything still felt so very much the same. I wondered if there were things I would change if given the chance. It wasn’t until after I ran through the laundry list of things that we would have been better off without that I realized I’d asked the wrong question.

It wasn’t a matter of what I would have changed, but what I would have kept the same. And the answer was simple. No matter what I would face in my life, I just wanted it to be with him. Everything would be okay as long as I had him.

However, when I tried to kiss him, Spencer still seemed hung up on the things he would have changed. Our lips didn’t connect for even ten seconds before he broke apart, happily laughing through the words, “This is so much better when I’m not hungover.”

“Old man.”

He didn’t argue back, wiggling under the sheets until our chests were pressed together. I took it as a very poor attempt at a power play, because instead of craning my neck to look up at him from my spot, I simply climbed his lanky figure until our noses were pressed together.

“Your old man now,” he corrected, followed by my own clarification of, “You were always mine, Dr. Reid.”

“But now you get to show everyone.” He grinned, letting go of my hand to roam over the curves of my body. His daily attempts to memorize each version of me he held. After a few more moments of silent reverence, I asked the question we’d have to face eventually, lest we face even more awkward, embarrassing moments with the team.

“Who’s gonna tell everyone?”

He barely even considered the options before he shrugged.

“Let’s just… wing it.”

I paused, certain that I’d heard it wrong. “You, Spencer Reid, would like to ‘wing it?’” I repeated, barely able to get the words out without laughing from the absurdity of it all.

But he was quick to assure me, “Yeah, I do.”

“Alright. Whatever you say,” I sighed. I figured that it wouldn’t be worth it to plan right now, anyway. It wasn’t exactly our style. If anything, we would find the perfect time completely by accident.

“You know what we should do first though?” I excitedly announced to the best audience a girl could ever ask for.

“What?”

“Coffee,” I drawled. To which he quickly answered, “I love you an ungodly amount.”

Taking full advantage of that admission, I shoved the poor soul who’d shackled himself to me forever away as I ordered, “Go turn it on. I am craving shitty hotel coffee in bed with my fiancé.”

“Fine,” he resigned with a smile while rolling out of the bed, “Spoiled brat.”

“Your spoiled brat!” I shouted back from safe under the covers that I could finally get back in his absence. They weren’t as good as him, but they would be enough for now. I buried my face into his pillow, snickering as I heard a very tired Spencer call from the bathroom, “Forever mine!”

Just as the sounds of running water filled the room, I lifted my head at the distant sound of familiar chiming beside me.

“Is that my phone?”

I didn’t answer, paralyzed in my place as I felt the most intense sensation of deja vu I’d ever experienced. Right there on the nightstand, I saw the name Hotchner.

Spencer was quicker this time to leave the bathroom, but just as he turned the corner, a thought must have stopped him. Because he paused, staring at me with hotel sheets gathered around me and his phone against my ear.

He didn’t try to fight me for the device. In fact, he didn’t move at all, watching from a few feet away with a smile I’d never seen before. The kind that I felt so deep inside of me that I realized this was what they meant to share a soul with someone.

“Hello,” I spoke softly and filled with love, “this is Mrs. Reid.”

The End.

——————————————��——

Epilogue

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wandering-travesty · 3 years

Text

Call Me By Your Name

You weren’t sleezy. That was just a word idiots used to try and pull you down to their level. Yes, your hair was slicked back. Yes, your eyeshadow was dark as the night. Yes, your suit jacket barely covered your chest. Yes, your nails were painted black and sharp as daggers. But, no, you weren’t sleezy. You were dressed for your job. What was your job? Well, that was a bit more complicated….

“I need you to get close to him.” Erwin said coolly, stubble covered chin resting on his strong hands.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, genuinely hoping you had too much wax lodged in your ear canals.

“You heard him.” You met the glare of the midget standing behind your boss.

“Okay, smartass, I did. But you can’t be serious, boss! He’s beyond dangerous. Shouldn’t someone like,” you gestured in Levi’s direction, “one of the Ackermans take care of this? I’m not discounting myself or anything, but fucking with a Yeager is basically a suicide mission.” You were actually shocked Erwin asked you to do something so important. More so, dangerous. You weren’t exaggerating when you said it was a death sentence. You’d lost enough comrades to know that.

“Listen, he’s the key to taking down the Marlian Syndicate.” You knew that, but still, this seemed out of left field. “The Ackermans are strong, yes, but they lack a certain…”

“They’re not ready to whore themselves out. Just say that, Smith.” You understood now. The Ackermans were cold blooded killers ready to strike at any moment. However, they were awkward and completely inept at things like lust and heated and frankly revolting rendezvous. That was how he wanted you to get information for him.

Erwin wanted you to fuck the leader of the Marlian Syndicate.

“I wouldn’t use that wording exactly, but your assumption is correct.” Levi couldn’t seem to meet your gaze, but Erwin continued to stare straight into your soul. He was the leader of La Peste Eldienne (The Eldian Plague) for a reason. Strong, debonair, charming, and slightly insane. He could down a beer in one swig, sip a martini all night long, or abstain from alcohol completely. Whatever he needed to do, he did. He murdered, sent the idiotic young and the hopeless old to their deaths just the same, and could absolutely wine and dine a stranger until their clothes practically flew off their body if it was for the cause. You needed to be like that. Especially at a time like this.

“I’ll do it. And I’ll do it well.” You assured your boss and his partner. Yeah, this would be easy. You could go low as the scum you were about to completely fuck over. You had been climbing up the ranks as of late, so this would be easy as pie.

Before going on your little date: you made a mental note of the main players you would have to deal with. The list you had went something like this:

Porco Galliard: Complete idiot. All brawn, no brain. Basically a bouncer with a fancier jacket and a higher salary. No worries about him doing anything funny.

Pieck Finger: The sweet little thing they kept around for good reason. Part of you wished you had to deal with her instead. She was witty and had a surprising amount of control over the shipments of cocaine and ammunition that went on about the city. Her pretty face and calm demeanor hid her true genius. She was one of the more concerning figures at tonight’s gig, but also one of the one’s more willing to hear you out before killing you.

Colt Grice: Basically a smarter but weaker version of Galliard. He was really only part of the Syndicate to learn from the best and become a great mafioso one day. You had high hopes for him, despite yourself.

Bertholdt Hoover: A freakishly tall mix of the last three members of the gang. So sweaty and shaky he wasn’t allowed to handle guns under any circumstance. That told you all you needed to know about his threat level.

Annie Leonhardt: Tiny, quiet ball of rage and skill. Could murder you in an instant, but would only do so if ordered. Not a concern unless someone else found you out, or you didn’t like being glared at all night.

Reiner Braun: His personality changed with the passing minutes. Could be calm and almost kind, or could snap your neck like a twig in his giant ass hand. He was a wildcard, and a dangerous one. Though he was obsessed with following orders and being the perfect little soldier boy, so you didn’t need to worry about him if no one told him to start shooting.

Yelena: Even more freakishly tall than Hoover. Also freakishly obsessed with the gang leader and his “master plan”, whatever the hell that was. Maybe you would find out tonight. Anyways, she would only do anything if you threatened the boss in any way. If you did your job right, that wouldn’t be an issue.

Eren Yeager: Easily the most brash and idiotic member of the gang. His problem was that he was trigger happy. In this business, trigger happy meant dozens of dead innocents piled up on the club floor in an instant. You had to be careful around him. Unlike most of the others, he would kill you without thinking.

And the top dog. The man of the hour. The man you had to seduce:

Zeke Yeager: Think Erwin but with more wit and charm. Not to mention more of a sadistic mindset. His favorite game was cat and mouse, seeing how long it took before he had a good excuse to have someone drawn and quartered. His expertise was slow torture that the victim didn’t even really know was happening before the barrel of the gun was already pointed to their temple. And you had to fuck him so stupid he leaked confidential information.

The only other issue with Zeke was his habit of sleeping around. Yes, he was a tramp by most standards. A harlot with exotic tastes. You had heard stories of him seducing women and men alike, and god only knew what they did once he succeeded. What that meant for you was he would be hard to impress.

So, you were here to beat him at his own game. And if you were found out, his younger brother would most likely shoot you on the spot. That was, if one of the others did it first. Or even worse, Zeke decided to be a tried and true asshole and torture you to death. The options were endless, and you hated them all.

So there you sat, ass perched on a bar stool, sipping on a gin rickey and waiting for your opportunity. The room smelled strongly of tobacco, rum, and cinnamon. At least you would die surrounded by what you loved, you thought, laughing grimly to yourself. Men and women danced to slow songs you faintly recognized. The air buzzed with haughty laughter and upper class small talk. You barely had any idea how to interact with high society shitheads as high and mighty as the ones Yeager surrounded himself with. You weren’t often sent out to jobs like this. You were like Levi, born in the slums and never taught how to properly behave. You knew what you had to, much like your knowledge of the goings on of La Peste Eldienne. You knew your gang traded drugs, ammunition, and whatever else was a hot commodity at the time, but nothing other than that. You were actually quite glad to know nothing, since that made you a pretty unimportant person to rival gangs. Not as many death threats and kidnapping attempts came your way, unlike the ones Erwin, Hange, and Levi got every day. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts on the gang hierarchy.

“Excuse me, miss. The boss wants to chat with ya’ real quick.” A man with greasy hair and green, catlike eyes softly gripped your shoulder. Considering what you knew of Galliard, you figured that grip wouldn’t be soft for much longer if you didn’t do as he suggested.

“Oh, alright. Did he happen to mention why?” You were genuinely curious. Porco didn’t offer you any solid answer, but there was a reasonable explanation.

Zeke wanted to get his rocks off. Parties could be interesting, with the right people, of course. The right people hadn’t happened to show up that night. You, on the other hand, seemed interesting. To be frank, you were gorgeous. Even from a distance, he could tell there was something behind your eyes that spelled trouble. He loved people like you. Vicious, cunning, witty, all hidden behind an uninterested and bored demeanor. Those were the people he wanted around him. The best examples were Pieck, and surprisingly, Levi. They seemed to be completely different people than the ones hiding behind their eyes, and Zeke loved to see how long it took to break them down. Well, he was a bit kinder to Pieck, but you and Ackerman got the rough treatment.

“Zeke, what the hell’re you doin’?” Eren pulled him out of his rather disgusting thoughts of…things better left unsaid.

“I’m going to talk to a woman, Eren. What does it seem like I’m doing?” Zeke had a sharp tongue and quick wit, which he didn’t spare even his brother from.

“I get that, but why that one? She seems…shady t’me. I wouldn’t let ‘er get too close, y’know?”

“Eren, please be rational.” Zeke held a palm out in front of Eren, as if to physically stop his train of thought. “You and Yelena will shoot at the first sign of danger, so inviting this lovely woman to join us for a harmless chat isn’t a danger in the slightest.” Zeke reassured his brother, neglecting to tell him his true intentions. He was sure that would just make him more upset and skittish, which was dangerous for everyone there.

“’Kay, boss. Got the dame ya’ asked for.” Porco trudged to the brothers’ secluded table with you in tow. He had kept one hand on your shoulder and the other right above your ass. The two main reasons being: one, he didn’t want someone so seemingly important to escape his grip, and two, you had a nice ass.

“Ah, thank you Galliard…you can let her go now.” He gave Porco a knowing smirk. He let you go immediately and walked away, cheeks slightly reddened. Zeke didn’t want someone else touching his new toy.

“I’m sorry if this comes off as rude, but did you need something from me? That man made me leave my gin at the bar and I would like to finish it at some point.” Oh, Zeke was going to love you. You weren’t flighty or scared in the slightest. He knew you had seen some serious shit. Not to mention how you cared more about your alcohol than a dangerous mafia boss and his younger brother ordering you over to their table. You were attractive and relatable. What a catch.

“My apologies, Galliard tends to be a bit, how do you say, brutish. Feel free to order something new and sit down with us.” He gave you a smile that told you it wasn’t a suggestion. This guy was already just as bad as everyone had told you. He hailed a waiter over to the table. You knew that wasn’t some kind gesture, rather a show of how much power he had over everyone there. His long, thick fingers and suave smile also showed you how easily swayed you could be by dashing looks and raw power.

He held himself like a king but talked like a philosopher. At the same time, he was down to earth yet still slightly condescending. You never knew where you stood with him, and he liked it that way. His flaxen hair was parted down the middle, and unlike most of the men there along with yourself with their hair hardened with pomade, it was fluffy and moved as he gestured wildly when he spoke. He tended to talk with his hands, once again drawing attention to just how attractive they were. His face was indescribably beautiful. His eyes were like stormy oceans cascading with passion and intrigue. His lips looked soft and plush with a wonderful roseate hue. His beard was well groomed and framed his sharp jaw perfectly. His gold rimmed glasses had a habit of hiding his eyes when thrown into direct light, which often happened with how he talked with his whole body. The way he constantly made direct eye contact with you had you lost in a daze of desire and fear. Was this all some sick ploy to get you to slip up and get everyone you loved killed along with yourself? Or was he seriously that interested in you?

Eren was quiet most of the time, unless Zeke spoke to him. He didn’t like you. You were too similar to Zeke for his tastes.

“Say, Eren, could you pass me a smoke?”

“Oh, so you do have vices. See, you never ordered a drink for yourself, so I assumed you were a man above pleasures of the flesh.” You flashed a toothy grin at him, signaling that it was just playful banter. You two were both rather good at that.

“My dear, the more you get to know me, the better you will understand just how enthralled with earthly pleasures I am.” He winked, and it sent you to the moon with want. How could a man be so gorgeous, charming, dangerous, and sadistic all at the same time? And why did you have to deal with it? You needed him out of his right mind, but it seemed like that could never happen. Whether it came from alcohol, drugs, or sex. You planned to use a mixture of all three. As you continued your playful jabs and taunts at each other, you found your opportunity to seal the deal. One sniff of the white stuff and he was putty in your hands.

“Now you know, Mr. Yeager, gin isn’t my only vice.” You kept your usual sly tone.

“Oh really? That is quite the interesting thing to say.” He matched your energy perfectly. This was too good.

“Have you ever happened to try, well, what do they call it these days? Well, I tend to call it blow. Snow, stardust, snort, sugar, crack, whichever you prefer, I suppose.” Oh, how brave of you to mention your own trade to your top competitor.

“Why, yes, I have indeed partook in snorting blow. Is there any reason as to why you’re asking me that right now, darling?” You wished he would stop with the pet names. Or rather, you wished you would stop loving them so much. It felt dirty to enjoy your enemy’s company to this extent.

“Well, I was wondering if you might like to sneak off and try some of my personal mix.” You leaned in close, covering the side of you mouth with your hand. Eren wasn’t a bad kid or anything, but he’d mess with your plan, and you couldn’t have that. Especially not with his slippery ass trigger finger.

“Your own personal mix, eh? Don’t tell me you’re involved in the trade, now.” He leaned in just shy of touching your lips. “That wouldn’t be very good for either of us, sweetheart.” That’s it, you were fucking this man if it was part of your plan or not. The entire thing could go south, and you’d still want this man’s dick in your mouth. You didn’t really care anymore. He was too hot to handle, and you were this close to cracking under the pressure. Zeke was right, you were fun to play with.

“Not at all, I just happen to know the right people.” You grinned at him, knowing you technically weren’t lying. It was your own little inside joke, or so you thought.

The next thing you knew you were in Zeke’s penthouse, smashed up against the wall with a hand around your neck. By all accounts, this is what you wanted, but it was also quite the opposite.

“Dearest, I find it insulting that you think I would fall for that pitiful act.” He had you figured out from the moment you walked in. Zeke Yeager never forgot a pretty face. He’d wanted to have you naked in his bed for months, and here you were, all helpless and needy. You were adorable, thinking you could get whatever you wanted from him.

“Smith was a fool to send anyone, let alone a little minx like you.” You hated how good being insulted by this bitch felt. How did he make it so that your panties got wetter every time he called you a different synonym for whore? It was so awful and so amazing.

“I’m the slut, yet you’re the one actively trying to fuck me? Do I have that right?” You quipped the best you could from under the pressure of his strong hand.

“Alright then, we’re both sluts. But the difference between us is that I admit it, yet you pretend to be this perfect little princess in order to fuck powerful men like me.” His grip on your neck tightened as if to add injury to insult.

“Don’t insult me,” you had to catch your breath between each word, “I fuck men ten times more powerful than you.” But, god was it worth it. You figured he might slap you or otherwise reprimand you, but no, the bastard just smiled wide. What a fucking asshole.

“Maybe to you.” He widened his cheshire grin. “Maybe you think Erwin’s more powerful. That he has a bigger cock and sucking it will get you further in life.” He pushed you further into the wall. “Or maybe letting Ackerman smack your ass will earn you some cash. Or having Zacharius sniff around your cunt instead of your neck will rise you up the ranks, hmm?” You just grimaced at him, knowing none of it was true. “Or maybe,” he let out a chuckle, “letting Zoe do whatever the hell they’re into will get you more coke and gin.” He was mocking you, ruthlessly, with no signs of stopping, and without letting you get a word in. You were starting to see black spots in your line of vision.

“Well, fucking with me will get you much more, angel.” He finally let your neck go, letting you fall to the ground, left to look up at the devil in front of you.

“You fucking suck.” You glared at him, not necessarily trying to hide how much you were enjoying this. As it happened, you weren’t some innocent angel. No, you weren’t a sadistic maniac like Zeke, but you knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t necessarily vanilla. As if reading your earlier thoughts, he bent down to your place on the floor.

He slapped you, and it wasn’t gentle.

“You’re a sloppy whore on your best days, now get up and strip.” Well if worst came to worst, you could say that you got him where you wanted him…just not exactly how you wanted him, or with a guarantee you would get what you wanted out of him. Honestly, you felt kind of flattered by his attention and apparent need to fuck you.

“God, do I have to do everything for you, sweetheart?” Apparently you had been standing around catching your breath too long for his liking. He had made quick work of his own jacket, shirt, and dress pants, leaving him in a black pair of boxers. You hated admitting how magnificent he looked. He was muscular, but not in the same way someone like Reiner or Erwin was. Every single limb on him was lengthy and wiry, thus the bruise marks forming on your neck. While on the subject of length, from what you could see, it applied to his cock as much as it did his other appendages. If it looked that good through the black fabric, you couldn’t even dream of what it would look like out in the open, slapping against his defined v-line and abs.

You hadn’t even noticed him getting closer to you, completely forgetting about his earlier demand turned complaint.

“Not only are you a harlot, you’re a useless one, as well.” He came close enough for you to smell the hints of smoke, pine, and black tea that wafted off of him. He started playing with the collar of your shirt. “But damn if you aren’t a pretty one…” He said that more to himself than you, clearly not being comfortable complimenting you. He saw you as a toy, a pawn in his game of chess he was playing with the rest of the world.

You decided that would be your last deep thought as he began to undress you. Nimbly moving his fingers down each button of your dress shirt, until it came completely undone and bore your chest to him. You were by no means flat, which seemed to entertain the man in front of you.

“I knew you’d be the perfect slut for me.” He groped your breasts through your bra, hands greedy with the clear goal of making you yearn for him. “Perfect tits, soft skin, pretty face, nice ass, strong will. Yeah, you’ll be fun to break.” He gave you one of his signature smirks, making you want to crush his windpipe and deepthroat his dick at the same time.

You shrugged your top off your shoulders and let him snake his arms around your chest to undo your bra and expose your tits to the cool air of the room. He didn’t waste time kissing your filthy mouth, and instead skipped straight to your sensitive neck. He slowly dragged his soft lips down your throat, kissing his way over to both sides and under your jaw. He licked and sucked at any area that made you gasp or let out some embarrassing little noise you tried to desperately to hide. He hated how you hid, he needed you to need him, to want him at a level beyond human comprehension. He wanted to destroy you, do break you down to your most animalistic and pitiful form. You were strong, that was for damn sure, but he wanted to fix that.

He took all this into account as he began nipping at the tops of your breasts. He moved from one to the other with no clear pattern. He dragged his tongue down to your right nipple, only touching the tip of his tongue to it, making you shiver in anticipation and let out a small whine. Yes, that was the progress he wanted to see from you. He swirled his tongue around it, slowly making his way to the center, harshly sucking it into his mouth. He pulled his sinful mouth away from you, leaving a trail of saliva connecting him to you. He quickly made his way to your other nipple, doing the same and driving you just as wild.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to make more noise, darling.” He teased, sounding genuinely annoyed with you.

“Well, maybe if you did a better job, I would be louder.” You had discovered your talent of keeping up with his smart mouth, and you used it to your advantage. You wanted to rile him up; to get a rise out of him. As previously stated, you didn’t want a vanilla little love making session, you wanted to fuck.

“Alright then, if you’re so keen on keeping quiet,” he put his rough hands on your bare shoulders, pushing you back onto the ground, this time on your knees, “how about I stuff that mouth?” You hated how good he was at turning you on.

He pulled his dick out right in front of your face, letting it lay on his toned abs, just as you had envisioned it. It was easily 10 inches long, 5 inches thick, with a slight upturn that could drive you insane if it hit the right spots, which it would. It was flushed pink and dripping pre-cum; it was pretty.

“Well, are you just going to gawk at it or are you going to make yourself useful, slut?” The sweet pet names were out the window, swiftly replaced with the most debasing insults he could think of. To avoid any more of his smart ass remarks, you took his thick cock in your hands. You slowly stroked it, taking in exactly how big it was. You moved your plush lips closer, giving it a few small kitten licks to test the waters. You kissed the head and gave longer licks up the side, earning a grunt or two from the man above you. As you began to swirl your tongue around his tip, his strong hand came down and pushed on the back of your head. It wasn’t gentle, forcing you to take him down your throat. Considering his size, it was no shock that you choked on it at first, but he kept his hand on your hair, forcing you to stay on him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep that dirty mouth on fat cock.” Tears starting pooling in your eyes as you struggled to breath around his length. “Aww, are you actually crying?” He cooed, taking sick pleasure in mocking you. “How pathetic of you, darling.” His words send shockwaves of shame and pleasure down to your core. You abhorred how badly you needed him inside of you. As he let out a low moan, he pulled you off his cock, tugging your hair just enough to make you even wetter.

“Alright, angel. I’m not a big fan of blowjobs, so we’ll leave it at that.” You coughed a little as he bent down to your heaving form.

“Really? That’s a shock.” That was your genuine reaction. You were far too fucked out to be a smart ass at this point.

“Yeah, you’re not the first to make that observation.” Much to your surprise, he picked you up bridal style, barely breaking a sweat in the process of getting you to his bedroom. Though the lights were on, you couldn’t take in many details, your cock drunk state making it difficult to process anything other than the warm, bare skin of the monster you tried so hard to vanquish.

“Now, lets get these cute little panties off, hmm?” You had forgotten him taking off your pants in the heat of the moment. His menacing figure loomed overtop of you, slowly sinking down to your thighs. He placed licks and kisses all over them, leaving a few bite marks along with them. You moaned louder than before, feeling too blissed out to care about your pride. You felt large, tepid fingers hooking themselves between your legs and into your panties. He pulled them to the side, wanting to really take you in. Despite his lust for power and dominance, he much preferred giving head to receiving it, especially when it came to women and their soft, tender pussies. You were no exception to this rule.

“Goddamn you’re fucking wet.” You looked up at you, making you lean your head back to avoid his gaze. “You must like me more than you care to admit, sweetie.” Just after saying this, he ran one long finger up your dripping slit, coating his fingertip in your slick. He looked at it shimmering in the low light of the room, grinning before taking it into his mouth and tasting what your cunt had to offer.

“You taste like heaven. Surprising, considering what a nasty girl you are.” Unlike you, he could keep that smartass act up for hours on end, no matter how lost in your sex he was. He landed a chaste kiss to your throbbing heat before flattening his tongue to lick a fat stripe up the middle. He began to devour you, making the lewdest noises you had ever heard in the process. You felt amazing, and disgusting, and just about every other emotion you had ever felt in your life. He was a god at eating your pussy, feeling no remorse in having his lips and beard dripping with your juices. To hell with the burn marks he left on your thighs and the burning sense of guilt you had for moaning so loud and creaming all over the face of your greatest enemy. Shame and guilt were for foolish children with no place in the world, Zeke wanted to enjoy every last second of destroying you.

As he continued to lick and suck at your most sensitive spots, you began to feel your stomach tighten, signaling your closeness. Zeke noticed as well, taking note of your erupting moans and groans and tugs at his silky hair. He moaned on your clit, the vibrations sending you over the edge. You came all over his face, arching your back of the soft sheets and making you scream his name. He kept his lips attached to your clit as you came down from your high, keeping you ensnared in his trap of bliss.

“God, you moan like a fucking whore, you know that?” The way he insulted you felt disgustingly good, especially coming from such a obnoxiously handsome man.

“And you eat pussy like a god.” The veil of hatred came off in one foul swoop. You couldn’t hold back how you truly felt about Zeke Yeager. You were in love with the way he treated you, and spoke to you, and ate you, and soon enough, fucked you. He was so damn good, and you just hated to love and loved to hate him.

“Oh, do I now?” He let out a low chuckle, taking pride in how helpless and stupid he had made you. “Does that make me your god, pet?” It wasn’t a real question. He knew the answer, and he loved that answer: yes.

“Now, how about I partake in some earthly pleasures and fuck your brains out, sweetheart?” He questioned, moving his arms up to rest on both sides of your head. His face was right above yours, lips hovering over your breathless, panting ones.

“Yes, please.” Your eyebrows scrunched together as you grew impatient and needy as all hell. Zeke had a sinister idea. God was a nice term, but he could think of a better one.

“How about you beg daddy for it?” He was such a disgusting pervert, and he relished in it. You mustered all the strength you could in order to speak.

“Please fuck my pussy, daddy.” That was all he needed to push himself inside your tight heat. Your walls clenched as he thrusted balls deep inside of you, not caring if you needed to adjust or not. Luckily, you didn’t, despite his size.

“Fuck yes, angel. You’re so goddamn tight.” He thrusted into you with reckless abandon, using you more than making love to you, which is exactly what you both wanted. Your walls clenched and throbbed as he brought you to orgasm once again.

“Cumming all over my cock, sweetheart? Such a dirty whore.” He teased, continuing his motions, hitting your g-spot over and over again without much issue. His dick was perfect, reaching every inch of you that made you scream out in pleasure and overstimulated bliss. All of this for a few bags of cocaine and bullets. You weren’t even thinking of that as he pounded into you, getting rougher and sloppier than before. He was getting close to his own high just as you were about to reach your third. No one had ever made you feel like this. You never wanted to let him go. Fuck everyone you cared about, this was too damn good to throw away.

“Where do you want my cum, slut?” He asked seconds before climaxing.

“Wherever you want it, daddy.” That was exactly what he wanted to hear. You had been molded into the perfect toy for him, even if it was just for the moment. He had debased and perverted you, like putty in his hands. You thought you could just waltz in there and take what you wanted from him. But no, instead you were writhing around on his bed with his fat cock filling up your pussy while you screamed for your daddy. You were filthy, slutty perfection. He quickly pulled out of you and shot his cum on your stomach and chest. Noticing you were still squirming around, he pushed his thumb to your clit and rubbed circles as two of his fingers entered you and hit your sweet spot.

“Come on, slutty girl, cum for daddy.” This time felt different than the others. You were completely out of your mind with pleasure and lust, and he was hitting just the right spots. You came around his fingers, squirting your juices and ruining his sheets. As if he could sense it, he had moved his face down just in time for it to reach his mouth, coating yet another layer of your cum on his beard. He licked his lips, savoring you taste and the blissed out, fuck drunk look on your face. He wished he could keep you like this forever. No, he would make sure to keep you like this forever. You were going to be his for the rest of time, no matter what it took. Even if he had to play the long game and pretend you had a choice in the matter.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m afraid you have to go home empty handed. I’m sure those tarts will just pat you on the head and congratulate you for trying your best. That’s why they’ll never surpass me, and that’s why you will come crawling back to me.” You couldn’t respond, too disappointed and drained to say a word.

“I have a shower that I recommend you use.” He looked down at you, your eyes hazy and barely focused on him. You were completely exposed to him. You looked beautiful. “In an act of civility, I’ll let you sleep here tonight. On a different bed, of course, considering the damage you’ve done.” You laughed at that, and he followed suite.

“You know Zeke, for a monster, you’re not too bad.” You looked at him, admiration clear in your eyes.

“You’re not too unbearable either.”

#aot smut #snk smut #zeke yeager smut #zeke jeager x reader #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jeager smut #tw: drug use #tw: alcohol

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rainbow-shine · 3 years

Text

i'll never wear your broken crown, but in this twilight our choices seal our fate

An alternative s4 in where Dean has powers and that changes everything and nothing. Dedicated to @wormstacheangel and inspired by this headcanon.

It started with little things.

So little that Sam wouldn't have noticed them had it not been for the fact that he couldn't help but look at his brother like a hawk lately, partly to comfort himself that he had Dean back and partly to make sure his brother wouldn't find out about his extracurricular activities.

Dean doesn’t gets hurt anymore.

Sam felt his heart stop inside his chest when he entered the kitchen at Bobby's house and found Victor's ghost with his hand embedded in Dean's chest. With a swift movement Sam fired, the ghost disappeared and Dean fell to the ground.

Completely unharmed.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked either way. Dean gave him an unimpressed look before saying no.

The thing was, Sam had seen Olivia's corpse, had seen the corpses of the rest of the hunters. Right now Dean should be bleeding to death on the floor, his heart ripped from his chest, but instead he was just catching his breath like he'd just taken a good hit.

Sam, at that time, thought it was a fluke.

But it kept happening.

They had a dangerous job and the threat of the apocalypse only made the monsters worse, but Dean was always unharmed. Not a single mark stained his body and the times something or someone managed to hurt him, those wounds always disappeared in less than a day.

"You test him, right?" Sam whispered to Bobby, as soon as Dean went to buy something for dinner and Sam stayed with the excuse of researching something on a new book.

"Who?"

"Dean," Sam clarified. “After he was resurrected”.

"Of course I test him, Sam," Bobby hissed. “Do you think I'm stupid?”

"No, it's just…" Sam stopped speaking, realizing that his arguments at the moment would sound more like conspiracies. The fact that Dean was apparently untouchable wasn't exactly a bad thing.

"What?" Bobby asked sharply.

"Nothing," Sam replied, quickly coming up with an excuse. “It's just that I feel like there's something different about him”.

"Sam, your brother just came back from hell. Literal hell,” Bobby exclaimed slightly condescending. “His mind is trying to process a trauma that, as far as I know, no one has ever experienced. You can't expect him to be the same as before, because he won't be”.

"I know, Bobby."

"Then stop complaining".

So Sam stopped. After all, Dean was still Dean and the fact that nothing could hurt him was just one more reason for Sam to do everything he could so that nothing that could reach him.

•●•

The first time Dean went to sleep after being rescued from hell, in the uncomfortable but familiar couch in Bobby's house, he dreamed of a light.

A light so bright that he felt it might be able to melt his eyes out of his sockets, but at the same time it was warming a part of him that always seemed to be cold.

A light that was comforting and gentle. A light that meant love and salvation.

That night, in an abandoned barn in Illinois, Dean knew that he hadn't been dreaming at all.

•●•

When he was a kid and dad decided to start taking Dean on hunts, Sam used to kneel by his bedside and pray that god would keep his brother safe.

After Jess appeared nailed to the ceiling and their apartment was consumed by flames, Sam began to pray for forgiveness.

The day Dean was dragged to hell Sam stopped praying, because he knew that no one was listening to him.

But then Dean was saved. Dean was saved by an angel and Sam felt his faith restored. How he couldn’t have faith when an angel had achieved what he had been trying to do for months?

But apparently Sam Winchester couldn't have good things, because again his faith was destroyed and the angels, as Dean had said, were nothing more than dicks with wings.

The boy with the demon blood.

The curse Azazel left on him and the only chance they had to truly stop Lilith.

There was fear in Dean's eyes.

And that hurt so much more than anything the angels could have told him.

His powers were a curse, but he had stopped Samhain thanks to them. They may not have saved the seal, but an entire city was beginning their day with nothing to worry about thanks to them.

Sam was doing the right thing. He truly was.

It didn't matter that no one seemed to agree with him.

•●•

"Let me guess, you're here for the ‘I told you so’" Dean said, turning on the bench to look at the angel sitting next to him.

“No”.

“Well, good, cause I’m really not that interested”.

"I am not here to judge you, Dean." The angel's voice was surprisingly gentle and Dean tried to ignore the way the light from his halo suddenly looked alluring. Dean hadn't told anyone, not even Sam, what he could see.

Because Dean still wasn't entirely convinced that he hadn't gone crazy.

Big black wings curved slightly around both of them as they chatted and Dean, for a moment, stopped seeing Castiel, the righteous angel of the lord and only saw Cas, someone who looked as lost as Dean felt.

"I don't envy the weight that’s on your shoulders, Dean," Cas whispered. “I truly don’t”.

Then Cas leaned into him and Dean felt his mind short circuit for a second, because the angel clearly seemed to want a kiss. But no, Cas stopped an inch from touching his lips, simply watching him simultaneously with the blue eyes of his vessel and with the hundreds of curious eyes of his true form.

“What…?” Dean's question was interrupted by something coming from Cas' lips and colliding with his. Dean instinctively parted his lips and allowed Cas to give him whatever he wanted.

It wasn't liquid, but it wasn't a gas either. It was tasteless and Dean didn't feel it pass down his throat or vanish in his mouth. His heart raced and he felt… safe. Blessed.

As soon as it started it was over and by the time Dean managed to control his heartbeat, Cas had vanished and no one seemed to have witnessed what had happened.

•●•

Ruby didn't like Dean.

For many reasons, some more obvious or justifiable than others. But for the sake of the role Sam had to play, Ruby forced herself to cooperate with the older of the Winchesters.

But this was too much.

The mere presence of Dean made her feel like there were cockroaches crawling all over her body. His soul had taken on a new glow and Ruby didn't want to know what kind of things Dean was doing with his angel to have that kind of purity.

"I think there's something wrong with Dean," Sam confessed and Ruby could feel the fear making his voice shake or maybe the shaking came from the blood that was still running down her arm.

"What are you talking about?" Ruby asked sweetly, almost genuinely concerned. If it were up to her Dean would still be rotting in hell, but Sam was on his way of doing a miracle and Ruby felt that someone like that deserved all the happiness and satisfaction in the world. Even if it meant having to put up with Dean Winchester.

"He looks different," Sam said. "I think the angels are doing something to him. My brother would never have..."

"What?" Ruby prompted. "Would never have risked his life for an angel?"

"Well, no".

Ruby had a sudden epiphany that they weren't talking about Ana.

"Maybe the angels are… purifying him," Ruby suggested. "I mean, you know what he did when he was in hell".

The idea of Dean, brave and kind Dean, torturing souls in hell and enjoying it was too funny to be true.

"It's something more than that".

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't know!"

Ruby thought that they had already wasted a lot of time talking about Dean, so she decided to silence Sam with a deep and dirty kiss, climbing onto his lap and thinking that heaven could purify Dean as much as they wanted, because she would see to it that Sam was more powerful than they could ever imagine.

•●•

The angels had taken his brother and Sam swore he was going to kill them as soon as he found them.

Wasn't it enough that they were manipulating and corrupting him, they also had to make him relive what happened in hell?

Dean had protected him from many things. Dean, his older brother, had taken it upon himself to give him a childhood that he never allowed himself to have. Dean had been in the front row of his school play. Dean had made him tomato rice soup whenever he got sick. Dean had put a wad of money and a cell phone in his bag when he had left for Stanford.

Dean had sold his soul to save him.

So now it was Sam's turn to save his older brother.

•●•

"For what it's worth," Cas murmured against his lips. Dean was shuddering with what could be fear or perhaps anticipation. "I would give anything not to have you do this".

•●•

Sam had killed Alistair and Dean was furious.

Hundreds of emotions were piling up in his mind and he wasn't able to understand how his brother could be so stupid to not see that his powers were changing him for the worse. Dean could feel that something was wrong with Sam and his little brother didn't seem to mind.

"I did it to save you!" Sam insisted, throwing his hands up as if Dean was going to lunge at him despite still being slightly dizzy from the hospital drugs. "I only used my powers to protect you when the angels couldn't!"

"Cas did the best he could."

"Really?" There was a note of hysteria in Sam's voice. "Are you going to defend him?"

"Sam..."

"He forced you to torture Alistair despite knowing what you did in hell!"

"He had no other choice!"

"He's using you!"

"But at least he has never lied to me!"

The lightbulb in the room exploded.

Both brothers froze and Dean could see that Sam was breathing heavily and refusing to meet his eyes.

"Sammy?"

"I'm going to get some air," was all Sam said before he practically ran out of the room.

Leaving Dean wondering if things between them would one day stop being so broken.

•●•

Dean's eyes glowed blue.

Angelic blue.

Sam had to save his brother before it was too late.

•●•

The first time Dean healed him, Sam felt like something inside him was burning.

It had been a hunt like any other. No seals threatening to break, no angels or demons. Just the two of them against an angry ghost, just like old times.

Except the ghost was really angry and by the time Dean managed to burn their bones, Sam had been thrown into several graves and several trees and he was sure the back of his head was bleeding.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, running up to him and gently laying him on the ground, with his head in his lap, examining the severity of the injury. Sam felt like a little kid again, feeling safe next to his big brother.

For a moment, there was no apocalypse or arguments. Just the warmth of his brother's body and gentle fingers running through his hair.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam managed to say. "You know how much head injuries bleed. It's less serious than it seems".

"I know, Sammy".

And then Sam felt the soft strokes on his hair turn into flames and a gasp escaped from his throat. The pain lasted only a second and by the time Sam regained awareness of his surroundings, none of his injuries were still hurting.

"What did you do to me?" Sam hissed, pulling away from Dean and standing up quickly and nearly falling back to the ground from the wave of nausea that washed over him.

"I… I don't know." Dean looked as terrified as Sam felt. "I just wanted to make you feel better".

Dean wasn't normal anymore. Whatever the angels had done or were doing to him was changing his brother.

And Sam no longer knew if he could save him.

•●•

"What's happening to me, Cas?" Dean asked. Trying to convince himself that his little brother was safe and that even though Lilith had escaped, she at least hadn't made any deals with Sam.

"You're changing," was Cas' soft reply. "A metamorphosis, a revelation".

"Am I not human anymore?" Dean asked with his voice showing the terror he really felt.

"You're always going to be human, Dean," Cas reassured him. "Every saint, every messiah, was as human as you".

"I don't deserve this, Cas," Dean gasped, closing his eyes to avoid seeing Castiel, his wings and halo, his eyes and his light. He wasn’t worthy of witnessing the greatness of an angel, not this angel at least.

"Do you still think you don't deserve to be saved?" Cas whispered and Dean trembled slightly as he felt a warm hand gently touch his chin, forcing him to look up and open his eyes. Cas was looking at him so adoringly that Dean felt like he was going to combust in any minute. "Do you think you don't deserve to be loved?"

This is love? Dean almost asked, but instead he connected his lips to those of the angel in front of him and tried to ignore the way in which, for the first time since he had been dragged to hell, he felt pure.

•●•

Castiel couldn't keep doing this.

Heaven had lied to them. Castiel had delusionally believed that he was keeping Dean safe, that he was rendering him immune to demons, healing his wounds and protecting him from all danger.

When in reality Castiel had only been poisoning him.

Shame mingled with guilt within his grace. His wings were flapping as fast as they could, pulling him towards Dean. Trying to warn him about what heaven was planning. Trying to save him from the hell Castiel had condemned him to.

The angels found him first.

Castiel felt how his wings were imprisoned and how his entire being seemed to be consumed by the most absolute pain.

"Take him to Naomi," ordered one of his superiors. "Fix him as soon as possible".

The last thing Castiel felt was the bond he had begun to form with Dean being brutally ripped apart.

•●•

No demon could touch him and surprisingly that wasn't the strangest revelation Dean had that day.

No, the fact that the demon that tried to touch him in Jimmy Novak's house let out a scream of pain as he held onto his burned hand paled in comparison to everything else:

Seeing Sam, his baby brother, throw himself on a demon to drink her blood, broke his heart in a way that Dean couldn't even begin explain.

After that, seeing how Cas looked like his wings had been passed through a shredder while his true form's eyes seemed dull and unfocused only served to make his wounded heart surrender completely.

Dean was practically invincible, but right now, with the broken pieces of his heart trying to stick together, he felt more fragile than any glass.

•●•

Bobby wasn't having a good day.

No, that wasn't good enough, Bobby wasn't having a good life.

But this day was particularly bad.

No matter how much he wanted to ignore them, Bobby could still hear Sam's delirious screams. And to think that the boy who had entered his house years ago, hiding behind his older brother and observing everything with big eyes full of curiosity, was now going through a detoxification process for having consumed demon blood, was something that Bobby could hardly tolerate.

The fact that Dean was a mess didn't help much either.

Dean appeared to be a shadow, drowning in alcohol and carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Bobby wondered if there was something wrong with him too, for on more than one occasion the lights around him seemed to flicker and his eyes seemed to emit a strange light.

What had these two idjits gotten themselves into now?

•●•

Dean didn't know what else to do anymore.

"She's poison, Sam," Dean said, praying his brother saw reason. Sam just gave him a wry smile.

"What about Castiel?" Sam hissed and Dean instinctively took a step back. "Is he poison too, Dean?"

They had both lied to each other and here were the consequences.

"Cas is an angel," Dean replied. "He's just protecting me".

"What makes you different from me?" Sam asked. "Tell me, why are you allowed to be a freak and I'm not?"

"Sam that's not how things are..."

"Of course they are!" Sam yelled. "All my life I have been the freak of our family, I never fit in with you and dad, and I was ready to accept that I'm different from you, but it turns out that you are the same freak as me!"

"It's different and you know it, Sam," Dean tried to argue. "Cas never made me drink his blood, he never made me promises too good to be true, and he never made me addicted to anything".

"Why?" Sam asked, sounding exactly like the scared little kid who had believed that the monster under his bed was real. Dean felt his heart ache. "Why if we are both freaks I have to be the monster?"

"It's not too late, Sam," Dean pleaded. "We can still stop this. No angels and no demons, just you and me. Like before".

"I… I can't do that, Dean," Sam denied.

"Of course you can," Dean insisted, moving slowly toward Sam. "Say goodbye to Ruby, return with me to Bobby's house and we will find a way to end it all. I just want you to be okay, Sammy".

Sam's skin began to burn the moment Dean placed his hand on his arm.

No.

"Sammy?" Dean didn't recognize his own voice, he felt like his body had ceased to be his. A witness of his worst nightmares. A tear ran down his cheek. "Sammy, please".

The blow hurt less than the implications of what just happened.

•●•

It wasn't fair.

None of this was fair.

The place where Dean's hand had touched it still hurt. A reminder of what he had sacrificed for the greater good. A mockery of what he had lost by trying to be a hero.

But he couldn't stop, not now that he was so close to ending it all. Not when it was only a matter of hours before Lilith tried to break the final seal.

Ruby's presence was a comfort with the same intensity as a punishment, because Dean hadn't trusted him the way she did, but still Sam wanted the presence of his older brother.

That part of him that had believed for years that his older brother was a superhero right now wanted to run up to his brother and beg for forgiveness.

But Sam was no longer a child and his brother had made a decision.

It was time for Sam to made his, too.

•●•

The angels had kidnapped him. There was no other way to describe what they had done to him, but Dean had made a promise and he planned to keep it. So he stayed there and listened to what the angels told him.

But the moment Zacharias leaned toward him, his movements clinical and expressionless in a way Cas' had never been, Dean couldn't resist the urge to seal his lips, lower his gaze, and take several steps back.

"Dean," Zacharias sighed, as if Dean was a little kid who didn't want to eat his vegetables.

"No," Dean refused and before he could regret it he added. "I want Castiel to do it".

The expression on Cas' face was heartbroken.

"Very well," Zacharias agreed, before ordering Cas to come over to him.

With Cas' lips so close to his and with the warmth of what he now knew was grace enveloping his body, Dean wondered if Sam had been right and Cas had been poisoning him too.

Perhaps both of them had poisoned each other.

"You're almost ready," Zacharias marveled when Cas broke away from him. "Everything will go according to plan".

Dean wasn't so sure about that anymore.

•●•

"Sam," Ruby said, her dark eyes showing a panic Sam never remembered seeing. "Time is running out, are you going to do it or not?"

With Dean's voice telling him that he was a monster echoing in his head, Sam knew he really had no other choice.

•●•

"You know what's real?" Dean asked and didn't wait for an answer before grabbing the lapels of Cas' trenchcoat and slamming his lips against his.

Cas seemed to freeze for a moment before reciprocating the kiss with intensity. His black wings curved around both of them and Dean felt the heat of his halo brushing against his hair. Invisible hands caressed his skin and hundreds of eyes watched him adoringly.

"This is real," Dean gasped as they parted. "This, us, people, families— that's real. You're gonna watch them all burn, Cas?"

"What would you have me do, Dean?" Cas whispered. His wings trembling slightly.

"Get me to Sam," Dean said. "We can stop this before it's too late".

"I do that, we will all be hunted," Cas replied. "We'll all be killed".

"If there is anything worth dying for... this is it" was all Dean could say.

Dean barely had time to react before he was being pushed into one of the walls and kissed desperately. Dean raised his hands to tangle them in Cas' hair and parted his lips the moment he felt Cas' tongue touch his lower lip.

His body accepted Cas' grace with ease.

"We have to find Sam, we have to stop him from killing Lilith," Cas told him when they parted.

"Why?" Dean asked, feeling a little dizzy. "Lilith is going to break the final seal".

"Lilith is the final seal," Cas said. "She dies; the end begins".

•●•

Sam had never felt a power like this.

It was all about to end and he could finally have the life he deserved. His nightmare would end and everything Azazel had planned would be in vain. Sam would use the powers that hell had given him for good. He would use the demon blood that ran through his veins to prevent the apocalypse.

And maybe, when things finally ended, Sam could apologize to Dean and all of this would be nothing more than a bad memory.

Lilith was smiling and Sam was eager to erase that smile once and for all.

Finally, everything was about to end.

•●•

Castiel was committing treason.

He didn't even think twice before vanishing Zacharias and carrying Dean as quickly as his wings allowed him to the house of the prophet of the lord. It was the only chance they had to find Sam and stop the apocalypse before it started.

"You guys aren't supposed to be there," said the prophet, frowning. "You're not in this story".

"Yeah, well..." Castiel said. "We're making it up as we go".

Castiel then took a moment to look at Dean, his soul shining as bright as the sun and cradling his grace as if he never wanted to be without it. Castiel felt a wave of affection for the human he had rescued from hell, for the man who had kissed his lips like a lover.

He sensed the archangel's presence long before he appeared and Castiel knew that they had run out of time.

Regardless of whether the prophet was watching them, Castiel pulled Dean to share a heavy kiss. A kiss of regret for lost time. A goodbye kiss.

"I'll hold him off!" Castiel gasped against Dean's lips, allowing most of his grace to flow to him. If Castiel couldn't protect him, at least he would make sure his grace did. "I'll hold them all off! Just stop Sam!"

Dean connected their lips one last time.

"Good luck".

In the end, Dean had been right. This was something worth dying for.

•●•

He had been too late.

•●•

"I was the best of all those sons of bitches!" Ruby yelled, a maniacal smile curving her lips. "The most loyal!"

Sam had stopped listening to her, just staring in horror at what he had done.

This is not how things are supposed to be. This shouldn't have been the end of this. He had made a stupid mistake, he had been arrogant and he had been naive. Sam had only wanted to protect the world; he had only wanted to take some of the burden off his brother's shoulders.

Sam, for once in his life, had just wanted to do something right.

"You're too late," Ruby scoffed and Sam felt like he might start crying when he saw his big brother.

"I don't care," Dean hissed and Sam could only watch paralyzed as Dean placed his hand on Ruby's forehead and she started screaming, her eyes on fire and the demonic essence of her fading.

"I'm sorry," Sam sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Dean".

Dean couldn't even look him in the eye.

"We have to get out of here," was all Dean said. "Let's go, Sam".

"Dean," Sam gasped. "He's coming".

Dean ignored him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the exit.

For the first time in months, Dean's touch was no longer uncomfortable.

•●•

The apocalypse had begun.

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sjmsstuff · 3 years

Text

Light and Dark

Chapter 2

A/N: hey gang, it’s chapter 2! This is not really canon compliant but if you squint real hard it is. I wrote this at 2 am and edited it during French class so I have no idea what state it’s in, please enjoy x

Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Warnings: Swearing (duh, it’s me), minorly nsfw but like not really, references to sexual and child abuse (not so much this chapter but probably later)

The silence pressed in the second she disappeared.

He was such an idiot.

She had been wearing his necklace though. Cauldron, how could he even call it his necklace, she didn’t know it was from him. Azriel wasn’t even entirely sure why he had given it to her but seeing it in his pile of solstice presents… that led to thoughts of Elain and after the fiasco at solstice he’d tried his best to forget about her.

Too often however, his mind meandered back to thoughts of her face, her mouth. Usually those thoughts came barging into his head late at night, when company fell asleep and his shadows disapated. Recently however those thoughts had changed.

Since solstice that mousy brown hair had taken on hues of red. Turquoise eyes closed in the throes of pleasure and a slimmer body writhed beneath him.

He was so unbelievably fucked. Or maybe the issue was that he wasn’t getting fucked.

He should Rhys’s advice and find company at a pleasure house. He must really hate himself, to lust firstly after Mor, who had shown no interest in him in 200 years. Then Elain, who was mated, and now Gwyneth, with her history she probably wouldn’t want a male to look at her for too long.

Which made him some massive creep to think of her like that. Azriel really did try not to. But when she appeared unannounced, like last night, he couldn’t help but think…

No, he wouldn’t go down that road. Not until he was fully sure she wanted it.

Azriel had beeen so surprised when a shadow curled around his ear in the stormy night and whispered of a nymph girl climbing the stairs. He was out of his seat and down the steps faster than he could consider any potential consequences.

And there she had been, standing in the hallway, looking like she might want to turn right around and march back down, but a shadow flicked against his ear, singing softly and he spoke her name.

He wanted to reach out to her, his shadows took that as a cue and tried to reach out themselves before he pulled them back. Something about her was affecting them, drawing them in. Or maybe she was affecting him like that.

That was a dangerous thought.

She had stood silent, lithe frame backlit by the torches behind her and said,

“Would you like some company?”

Her voice was a melody. His shadows purred in answer.

The worlds axis must have shifted, he could probably look outside to find the stormy sky had turned as blue as her eyes he was taking too long to answer and she was looking at him oddly, perhaps noting the shadows flying around his shoulders.

They were so excitable in her presence, he couldn’t control them and that was extremely concerning. Az doesn’t like what he can’t control.

All worry was chased from his mind as he climbed the stairs and another topic was thrust into his brain.

Gwyn from the back was almost as glorious as she was from the front.

Gods what he wouldn’t do to grip those hips and grind that perfect little ass on his-

No.

He stopped himself, looking away before his control could be tested further. She said it herself, she was here for conversation and Mother damn him he would talk to her casually.

Gwyn was not going to be a repeat of Mor or Elain. He was not going to lust after another female that wanted nothing to do with him, and pine away until his demise.

Gwyn was going to mean more than that. He would keep her at arms length, so that he may keep her as a friend.

And he was making a fool of himself. She asked his favourite colour and the only colour left in the world was that of her eyes.

And he laughed, for the first time in weeks, stress melting from his weary bones after just minutes with this fabulous creature.

And he told her things he had never told anyone, that was dangerous.

He was a spymaster, mother damn him. A spymaster wasn’t much good if he told a female all his secrets after a few pretty smiles.

But gods, her smiles were pretty. He wondered how pretty her mouth would-

No. None of that.

He needed her out of here so he could collect pieces of his sanity before he spilled any other important secrets.

As she walked back towards the library however, he almost called her back. An unruly shadow seemed to take that as an opportunity to reach for her, but Az whipped it back.

Dangerous indeed.

And yet, that night he slept without dreams. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. Well truthfully, he could, it was a time when his hands were unscarred.

Cassian was back the next morning. Ever his cheerful self since the mating ceremony almost a month ago. He had been unbearable for a week afterwards. Azriel had had to vacate the house of wind and call a halt to lessons as Cass had almost taken his head off and Nesta had growled at Emerie the first time she tried to enter the house.

Not to mention the scents and sounds emanating from different rooms. Azriel was happy for his brother, truly. Even if it did make him green with envy and blue with melancholy.

The following week, the happy couple were back training but Cass was so distracted Az managed to beat him into the dirt on no less than three occasions. Azriel waited another week before moving back into the House, still half considering Rhys’s offer to fumegate it.

He had kept occupied by tracking Koschei, or rather attempting to track him. The King had proven hard to pin down, a source of growing frustration to Azriel. He despised having to bring bad news to his High Lord, and now that Rhys had Nyx to worry about he hated it even more.

But Rhys maintained that they had faced threats before and triumphed but the failure still weighed heavy on Az that morning in the training ring.

He tried his hardest not to look at Gwyn. He couldn’t help it sometimes, her hair caught the light when she twirled under Emerie’s punch.

It looked like a flame come to life in the early morning sunlight and he challenged any living male not to loose breath.

It was with a warriors assessment that he allowed his gaze to rove over her slight body. He was admiring her form and positioning, definitely not imagining her in different positions. That would be both unsavoury and unprofessional. Which is why he hated himself for doing it.

Gwyn hardly noticed him, barely glancing in his direction and he had the strangest urge to pick a fight with Cassian in attempt to garner her attention.

That wasn’t good.

The warrior in question was flirting with his mate while she squatted, arching her back in a way that was unnecessary and counterproductive but Cassian didn’t call her up on it, he seemed too busy enjoying the show. Nesta however corrected herself and continued on while his lovesick brother pretended he hadn’t been leering at his mate.

Gwyn too had spotted the encounter laughed, a tinkling sound that lightened something dark in Azriels chest. She looked around to see if anyone else had caught what she had, and that’s when it happened. Her eyes met his and the world shifted again. He couldn’t help the smile that blossomed in the wake off her own. One thought consumed him as he turned back to his own priestesses and guided them through the next set. He was so unbelievably fucked.

Tagging: @bookstantrash @perseusannabeth @champanheandluxxury @princessofmerchants @princessofmerchants-reads @azrielsshadowsdanceforgwyn @lovelywordsandwine @thron3ofbooks @velaaaris @illyrian-valkyrie

Chapter 3

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list for my writing or this fic x

#sjmsstuff writes #light and dark #light and dark ch 2 #acosf spoiler #acosf #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 14 first part

(RR The Untamed Masterpost) (Canary’s Pinboard - more Masterposts)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Murder Turtle, Continued

Lan Wangji wakes up after a good night's sleep leaning against a rock wall, to find that his leg is no longer splinted, and his perfectly clean and unbloody headband has been put back on his head while he was sleeping.

Leaving aside the "not waking up" part of things, how, exactly, did Wei Wuxian get his headband on without mussing his hair? Did he bring a crochet hook?

Wei Wuxian gives him a sitrep and then they cozy up and have an extended conversation about the nature and history of the Tortoise of Slaughter. Wei Wuxian is interested in everything Lan Wangji has to say, and Lan Wangji talks a lot more than usual; they are completely on the same wavelength here and are enjoying swapping obscure knowledge.

Lan Wangji: My lacerated leg and I are actually super aware that it has big teeth, but thanks for the reminder.

In the course of the conversation, Wei Wuxian mentions his plan to 1. sneak into the tortoise's shell and 2. drive it out of its shell so they can attack it.

OP did a little tortoise research and learned that the only species of turtle that can leave its shell is the Koopa Troopa.

Good news for Wei Wuxian: If you jump on its shell in the right spot, you can rack up a pile of extra lives.

Does that make the Tortoise of Slaughter a giant Koopa Troopa? Perhaps...the king of the Koopa Troopas?

I'm gonna say yes.

(More after the cut)

Let’s Go Killing

Wei Wuxian is exhilarated by the idea of fighting a giant dangerous monster with Lan Wangji. Some day Wei Wuxian will found the Nike clan, because his motto is definitely "Just do it."

It's sweet how, in his romantic notions about chivalry and Lan Wangji, he's completely elided the original reason they were (sort of) told to venture together.

Wei Wuxian: I'm still on the "find the Yin Iron" quest; I'm just skipping the "suppress it" part.

Wei Wuxian weighs up their chances against Bowser and tells Lan Wangji that even if they die, it will be badass to be killed by a famous monster, so they won't have to feel embarrassed.

This is the exact moment that Lan Wangji's feelings for Wei Wuxian go from "smitten" to "gagging for it."

Lan Wangji: as soon as we get out of here I'm going to borrow a whole lot of books from Nie Huaisang

The boys come up with a plan that involves a rather long montage of collecting archery equipment and deconstructing it. This potentially-dull montage is fun to watch because they are both very, very good looking.

Artists who want to draw Wang Yibo as an elven archer, this is your episode.

Now we suddenly have, with zero explanation, telepathy. Ok, sure. It seems to work kind of like a phone conversation, in which they say specific things to each other, rather than like Cherry Magic telepathy where you can hear everything the other person is thinking. Or at least, neither of them is embarrassed, so I assume they are maintaining some mental privacy.

Club Ruohan

Same, Wen Chao, same

At some point there is a boring sequence at Club Ruohan. Wen Ruohan doesn't know where Xue Yang is, but really wants his hunk of Yin Iron. Wen Chao thinks that WRH's 3 pieces of Yin Iron should be able to beat Xue Yang's 1 piece, but apparently he is dumb and that is not how math works. O...kay? OP does not understand this either but whatever, Wen Ruohan is boring, moving on. This scene is really just here to make us think about Yin Iron before Wei Wuxian jumps into Bowser's shell.

Bigger On The Inside

So then Wei Wuxian climbs into Bowser's shell, which is, to quote The 12th Doctor, bigger on the inside.

Bowser’s shell is the approximate size of my entire house. It is also bathed in a hellish pure red photo filter, which OP has done her best to remove for these gifs, because it gives me eye strain and it obscures Xiao Zhan's hotness.

Camera Operator: What did I do?

Wei Wuxian wanders around inside, finding random corpses encased in slime cocoons. Tortoise, spider, xenomorph, whatever. There are also random curtain things hanging all over, and then at one point Wei Wuxian stares into the face of a corpse, and then does a jump scare response at the camera operator even though nothing particular happened.

I imagine the corpse was supposed to open its eyes and say "killl meeee" but it got censored. He also makes about 8 other faces at the camera operator, so we get that the inside of this TARDIS-like tortoise shell (must...resist...temptation...to...say...TORDIS) is yucky.

Lan Wangji waits outside listening to Wei Wuxian telepathically complain about the smell. He is anxiously clenching a bundle of string and an arrow, and wishing he could clench Wei Wuxian Bichen instead.

Serendipitous Yin Iron

Wei Wuxian backs his way through the TORDIS until his butt bumps into a sword that is steaming with resentful energy. That's right: Wei Wuxian is about to pull a piece of Yin Iron almost literally out of his ass.

He grabs it and is overwhelmed by its screaming resentful energy and has to let it go again.

So this is what a vibrator with 4 batteries feels like

When Bowser comes looking for him, however, he quickly decides to go for it, grabbing the sword and singing "I've Got the Power (Gonna Make You Sweat)"

Wei Wuxian plunges the sword into Bowser's lower jaw, and Bowser pulls his entire head out of his shell with Wei Wuxian attached, while leaving the rest of his body and all rational laws of physics inside the shell.

Gamera Versus the Cultivators

What follows is one of the more ridiculous action sequences in the history of the world, and I say that as someone who likes Mothra movies.

Wei Wuxian hovers in a perfect horizontal plank while “hanging from” the sword, which is held well below the level of his torso. While Bowser spins him around. For much of the time, Bowser keeps his head still and just waves his neck around.

Lan Wangji and the camera operator do everything they possibly can to make "guy pulls on string" look interesting.

Everybody tries really, really hard and the actors are great at pretending something is there when it isn't, but this whole sequence is just horribly conceived.

What works well, though, is the Yin energy and Wei Wuxian's wrangling of it. He starts off being frightened and overwhelmed, and looking like it's too much for him; I dont' know if they made his face puffy on purpose or if that's just what happens when you spend days hanging from the ceiling fighting an imaginary monster. But he looks slack and unwell as he grapples with the iron sword.

Which makes this moment, when he gets control of it, deliciously creepy. He uses the power of the Yin Iron to stick a bunch of pokey things into Bowser's neck.

Lan Wangji has seen him struggling and now sees him...not struggling. Which scares the piss out of him, and he moves to finish the fight as quickly as possible, slicing up his hand and breaking the string. Combined with the pokey things, this does the trick and Bowser dies while Wei Wuxian faints and falls into the water.

Do the Whumpty Whump

Lan Wangji rescues him and wakes him up, and Wei Wuxian clutches the Yin Iron sword and tells Lan Wangji that he was knocked out by the screaming of disembodied voices.

This certainly sounds like a strange and dangerous phenomenon, so Lan Wangji carefully asks him to explain everything.

Ha ha ha j/k. Lan Wangji asks him exactly nothing about the strange sword or the black smoke or his weird evil smile or his new power over pointy objects. Lan Wangji appears to have a Star Trek: TNG level of unconcern about strange phenomena happening directly under his nose. But in fact he has noticed what's up, which is why he will be instantly distressed when he sees Wei Wuxian's flute moves at the Wen Corporate Headquarters.

Wei Wuxian has a fever (stay positive test negative) and comments on Lan Wangji's being so nice to him.

Wei Wuxian: I could never have imagined Lan Er Gongzi acting this concerned about me. Lan Wangji: what else have you never imagined me doing, while we're on the subject?

Lan Wangji transfers a stream of spiritual energy to him. Lan Wangji has so much spiritual power he can be a battery for Wei Wuxian without breaking a sweat or, like, noticing whether Wei Wuxian has a golden core or not, for that matter.

Wei Wuxian basks in the nice feeling of gigajoules for a while but then decides he's bored. So then he pouts, whines, and cajoles Lan Wangji in exactly, EXACTLY the way he whines at Jiang Yanli. I think this, while annoying of him, is a leap forward in his relationship with Lan Wangji.

He's letting his guard down and not just allowing Lan Wangji to take care of him; he's demanding to be cared for on multiple vectors, when he asks the guy who's already busy healing him to sing to him as well.

Lan Wangji obliges, singing him the song he composed about their love cultivation journey, while Wei Wuxian (or possibly Lan Wangji) (or possibly both) has a flashback to assorted sexy interactions that they've had so far.

Wei Wuxian memorizes the song perfectly on one hearing, before passing out.

Writing Prompt: Baldur’s Gate III / Untamed Crossover AU featuring elf archer Lan Wangji

I DARE YOU

Soundtrack: 1. Everybody Dance Now by C+C Music Factory 2. Paradise by the Dashboard Light by Meatloaf

Wei Wuxian fainting tally (cumulative): 3

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #the untamed spoilers #restless rewatch the untamed #my gifs #canary3d-original #asian whump

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

Note

Hey there! Could I request g. with Luke Skywalker with an inquisitor reader? Congrats on reaching 100, can't wait to read more of your work!

Hi,

Thank you so much <3

That's a really interesting request, I hope I can do it justice.

Love, Charlie

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Luke Skywalker x Genderneutral!Inquisitor!Reader

g. "Sorry doesn't fix everything."

Warnings: Slight age difference (just a couple of years, not specified), kinda self-harm, but not really

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You didn't consider yourself anyone special. You were one of many, one of many children orphaned during the end of the Clone Wars or the beginning of the Empire, one of many cadets in the Imperial Academy, one of many singled out on your fifteenth birthday for 'special training'. It wasn't until you turned eighteen and were sent on your first mission, the only one of your squad to ever receive a mission at all, that you realized that maybe there was something special about you, though you only managed to put it in words once none other than Grand Moff Tarkin, the Grand Moff Tarkin, pinned a medal on your chest and congratulated you to your promotion. That's when you realized that you were special, you were one of only a handful of Inquisitors, chosen and trained to rid the galaxy of the few remaining Jedi or those who still had faith in the doomed order, those whose abilities were too dangerous to let them live. You were good at what you did, if not one of the best, and had countless medals to prove it. Maybe that's why your next mission came from very high up, from Darth Vader himself. The day you met the second most powerful man in the galaxy would change your life forever, though whether for better or for worse you would never be able to tell.

-------

Vader had sent you to what had to be the worst planet you have visited so far. Tatooine was nothing but a pile of sand, two burning suns and more criminals and low lives than you cared to count. Though for someone high up in the empire, who received a generous salary, it wasn't too bad. Rent and food were cheaper than other places, so you allowed yourself the rare luxury of renting a small suite in one of the better hotels the planet had to offer. The mission itself was simple, all you had to do was listen to locals and maybe ask a few inconspicuous questions to find out whether there were any Jedi sympathizers left in this corner of the galaxy. That's how you met him, and how your life changed once more. Luke Skywalker quite literally ran into you the first time you visited a place called Tosche station. He was just leaving as you were entering, and since he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and you had no space to move to the side the two of you collided. Luke managed to stay on his feet, but you began to stumble and fall, only to suddenly find yourself in his arms. Wow, that kid has fast reflexes, was the first thing you thought, but once you got a closer look at him you realized that he was no kid, at the most he was a couple of years younger than you, though his out of style clothes and long hair made him appear younger than is actual age. "I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Are you alright?", he asked, his arms still around you and concern in his eyes. You didn't know what it was, but there was something about him that made you stare just a moment longer, and heat rise up to your cheeks. "I'm fine. But I might feel better if you bought me a drink", you replied. Your keen eyes noticed the blush that crept up his face at your words. His reaction, and the overall lack of young people, let alone attractive young people, on this planet made it obvious that he wasn’t used to flirting, which brought out a strange sense of accomplishment and possessiveness in you. “Just wait here, I’ll get us something to drink and I know a shady place to sit down”, he told you before disappearing in the crowd.

-------

True to his word Luke reappeared a moment later and lead you to what seemed to be an abandoned farm a short distance away. That’s where the two of you settled and only when the suns began to set did you get back up. You didn’t remember the last time you have had a conversation like this, talking about everything and nothing. In just one short afternoon you learned more about Luke than you knew about most of your fellow cadets back at the academy. He was an orphan, living with his aunt and uncle on their moisture farm and though the two of them were happy with that life, Luke wanted more, he wanted to see the galaxy, a sentiment you could understand more than he knew. Luke was all of the things the people in your life weren’t; open and honest, sweet and funny, warm as the two suns above and quite good looking on top of it. In retrospect you should have known that it wouldn’t take Luke long to find a place in your heart, and your frequent meetings that followed after your first day together certainly didn’t help. Luke was your first kiss, only a week after you first met him in the Tatooine desert with gleaming stars and a bright moon above. He was the first one you told about your past, at least a few basics. You told him that you were an orphan, that your parents had been killed during the last few days of the Clone Wars and that you have been on your own since you were a baby. You told him about the loneliness and fears you usually kept bottled up and your unrealistic dreams for the future. Luke was the first you slept with, back in your hotel suite, after you had treated him to a dinner nicer than any he has had back on the farm. It wasn’t like what your peers had told you sex was like, it was sweet and passionate and lovely. And even though you tried your best not to, Luke was the first person you ever fell in love with, the first you cared about, other than the memory of parents you didn’t even remember if you were being honest. Your relationship with Luke was both the only real thing and the biggest lie in your life. He had told you everything about himself, but you had no choice but to keep lying to him again and again, no matter how much it hurt. Maybe that’s why part of you was glad when, after once again reporting that there was nothing unusual on Tatooine, you were told your mission was over and you should report to the Death Star. When you told Luke that you’d have to leave the next day he kissed you in his unique sweet way and whispered the three words you have come to cherish against your lips. “In that case I think I should give this to you now. I had been planning to wait til our one year anniversary next month, but I guess that doesn’t matter now”, he mumbled, speaking more to himself than to you. Before you could ask what he was talking about he pulled a small box out of the messenger back he usually carried with him. Gently he opened the box to reveal the most stunning bracelet you have ever seen. “It was my mother’s, one of the few things I have of hers. I want you to have it.” You lifted the bracelet out of its box, admiring how the stones shone in the soft light of the candles around your suite. “Luke...”, you said, trying your best not to let your voice break. “I cannot accept this.” You lowered the bracelet to put it back in the box, but before you could Luke took your hand in his and used his other hand to close your finger on top of it. “I want you to have it, I really do. To remember me by. Besides, the colour really doesn’t suit me.” You couldn’t fight the smile that found its way to your lips at his bad joke, neither the tears that appeared in your eyes. It really was time for you to leave this planet, to leave Luke, if you didn’t do it soon you feared you never would. “Thank you. I won’t take this off, I promise”, you vowed as he gently fastened the bracelet around your wrist and then pressed a soft kiss on your pulse point. “I love you”, he said with a sad smile. Only then did it occur to you that he had said it multiple times now, almost every day ever since the first time he had said it almost seven months ago, but never once did you say the words back. Maybe it was fitting that the only time you told him how you felt about him was when saying goodbye. “I love you too, Luke.”

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Soon after your return to the Empire, and your first visit to the infamous Death Star, did you realize why you had been called back so suddenly. The war against the rebels was picking up pace and the Empire could use all the help it could get. The next year was busy, you were no longer sent on solo missions but rather trained with the elite forces, taught to fly and shoot instead of fighting with your lightsaber, and then it suddenly stopped. After the Battle of Yavin the Empire had to regroup, rethink its strategies, and fight a new opponent. “We have information about an old Jedi temple, you will leave tomorrow and destroy it”, Grand Moff Tarkin informed you in his usual clipped way. This caught your attention, and for the first time in a while your interest. Hunting Jedi, making sure no children strong with the force would ever find out about their existence and take care of them if they did was what you were trained for, what you often thought you were born to do. Suddenly it dawned on you that the last time you had actually been assigned a mission like this was before Tatooine, before Luke. “Why me? I don’t mean to question your decision, but there are many older, more skilled Inquisitors.” Tarkin simply nodded. “I agree. But Lord Vader asked for you specifically. You’re to leave for Dagobah tomorrow at 0700.”

-------

Your short research told you that Dagobah was basically a slimy mudhole, but upon arrival it seemed even worse than in the pictures on the holonet. “If that temple is inside one of those swamps I’m not even gonna bother, I’ll just set fire to the whole planet”, you mumbled as you climbed out of your TIE fighter, careful not to get your bracelet caught on the ladder. That had happened once during one of your first flying lessons and it had cost you almost a month’s salary to get it repaired, apparently the medal alone was worth more than you made in a year, from the stones you might even be able to buy a small planet. The second your feet touched the ground you felt something dripping down from the trees onto your arms, which you could only hope was water. Luckily, after just a few meters, you stumbled upon a path covered with mostly dry branches and pebbles. “I thought this planet was supposed to be abandoned, but this looks almost like someone made this path on purpose.” You kept walking along the path, checking your datapad every now and then to make sure you were headed the right way. After what felt like half an eternity of walking you finally reached a small hut, which your datapad assured you was right next to the temple, though since you couldn’t see anything other than the hut and a million trees you decided to investigate there first, who knew what you may find. A familiar buzz ran through your entire body, adrenaline and excitement preparing you for what was to come. With a slight smile on your lips you ignited your lightsaber, partially so you’d be ready for what- or whoever would be waiting for you inside, partially because from where you stood in the doorway you could tell that it was incredibly dark and the added benefit of a lightsaber was the soft glow that helped in situations like this. Inside the hut was larger than it had seemed on the outside, mostly meaning that there was more than just one room. In fact, there was a long hallway with open doors on both sides leading to different rooms. The first couple of rooms you checked, if they could even be called that, were pretty much overtaken by nature and rotting away. There was nothing that spoke of Jedi, or any other intelligent being, having been there in recent years. It wasn’t until you were closing in on the last rooms that you heard a low noise, followed by a gut feeling that told you that what you were looking for would be in that room. Though since you didn’t know what, or who, exactly would be in there you entered the room with your lightsaber stretched out in front of you, hoping the red sword would make any possible threat stand down before they could try anything while you would remain in the shadowy hallway to glance inside. The plan seemed to work, since you heard a small gasp from inside the room just a moment before you realized who it had come from. “Luke?” “(Y/N)?” Both your voices were astounded, shocked, and mournful. Of all the people in the galaxy, why did it have to be Luke Skywalker you found here of all places? “What are you doing here?”, you asked as you slowly entered the room. It was then that you noticed just how different Luke looked, how much he had changed since you last saw him. His hair was a bit shorter, his skin paler and his eyes darker. And he was wearing an orange flight suit, the outfit was completed by the helmet in his hand, with the familiar rebel symbol on the side. You turned your lightsaber off before fastening it to your belt, just in time because only moments later you felt your legs begin to wobble before they gave out underneath you. Luke, his reflexes fast as ever, quickly pushed a chair in your direction, so you would fall on that instead of the hard floor. “Luke... Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.” You didn’t know what made you plead, hated the hurt and fear in your voice, but how could Luke, your Luke, not only be a rebel but be hiding right were an ancient Jedi temple was supposed to be. “If you’re asking whether I’m a rebel, the answer is yes”, he said after a moment of silence. “But judging by that red saber that’s not the only thing you’re asking.” Luke astonished you by sitting down on the small bed you only just noticed, one of the few pieces of furniture in the small room. How could he be so calm? “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a... what do you call yourselves again? Inquisitors?” You couldn’t help the inappropriate laugh that escaped your lips. “Yes, Inquisitors. Also known as the only people stopping the Jedi from destroying the galaxy as we know it.” Luke simply looked at you, an expression on his face you’ve never seen. He seemed to be beyond angry, though there was no denying the sadness in his eyes. “Is that what you believe? That the Jedi, the few Jedi you and those like you haven’t slaughtered, are trying to destroy the galaxy?” Not knowing what made you do it you sat down next to Luke, though you did your best to put some distance between you on the small bed. “Luke, I know this might be hard to hear, I know some people, rebels and Jedi alike, probably told you more lies than either of us can count, but the Jedi are bad. They once controlled the galaxy, did you know that? And they used that control to gain riches and live comfortably while others suffered. They were selfish and deceiving and cruel and Emperor Palpatine was the only one who could stop them. You know that, don’t you?”, you asked. Of course Luke had to know that, know the truth. You spoke to him in a soft voice, careful not to burst his bubble too sudden, to give him time to adjust and acknowledge what deep down you were sure he had to know. “Is that what they told you? What they made you believe so you would go around killing innocent children, scared old fugitives and all those trying to live normal lives after a genocide? Wake up, (Y/N)! It’s not the Jedi that are bad, it’s the Empire.” Luke reached out to take your hand and for reasons unknown to you, you let him. “The Empire raised you, didn't it?”, he asked. To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You’ve never really told Luke anything about your past, you weren’t even sure whether you told him that you were an orphan, but certainly not what your childhood had been like. “How did you know?” He moved closer to you before he answered, reached for your face to lay a hand on your cheek. The sadness in his eyes was even more obvious now, so much so that it took over his entire face. “There’s no other explanation. If you had known life outside the Empire, if even just for a moment, you would know just how false everything you just said is.” You shook your head. Though doubt began to creep in on you, the bigger part of your brain knew that Luke must be trying one of his Jedi tricks on you. But as soon as that thought appeared you neglected it. This was Luke, your Luke. Sweet and kind and caring, he couldn’t hurt a fly, much less you, no matter how much time has passed. So was what he was saying true? At least partially? “They told you what they want you to believe, never let you make up your own mind. I know you, (Y/N), I know that deep down, somewhere underneath all those lies you’ve been told, you’re a good person, and that person doesn’t have to heart to be an Inquisitor.” There was an expression on Luke’s face you knew all too well. Hope. He squeezed your hand before lifting it up to his lips to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Luke, I... I’m...”, you started, but with how much your lip was quivering you couldn’t finish your sentence. “It’s alright”, Luke said before pressing another kiss to your hand. “You don’t need to say it, you don’t need to apologize. You know, sorry doesn’t fix everything, but it’s a good start. And if you let me, I can help you. You could start a new life as part of the rebellion, I’m sure they’d be glad to have someone of your expertise.” As Luke kept talking your head began to spiral. Finally you came to a conclusion, and though you knew it was the right thing, you almost didn’t go through with it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to look Luke in the eyes afterwards. Slowly you began to loosen your hand from Luke’s grasp and removed his other hand from your cheek. “I’m not sorry. I’m not gonna say that I am when I’m not. Maybe what I’ve done was wrong, and if that’s the case your rebellion would never accept me, I don’t think I would accept me if what I have done wasn’t for the good of the galaxy, or maybe everything I’ve ever been taught was right and you’re lying to me. Whatever it is, I cannot say that I’m sorry, much less go with you, until I know the truth.” You took a deep breath and averted your eyes from Luke’s face. You couldn’t bear to look at him right now. “I know you won’t hurt me, even though you probably should. And I won’t hurt you, even though that’s what I’m here for. I’ll go looking for answers, to see whether I’m the villain you think I am, or the hero I was raised to be.” As you spoke the last words you got up from the small bed. You could feel Luke’s eyes on you, but knew that if you looked at him, at the face you’ve seen in your dreams ever since you first met, you wouldn’t be able to go through with your plan, instead you’d crumble and fall into his arms, knowing he’d always be there to catch you. Lucky for you, Luke didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you until you were almost out the door. “I still love you”, he finally said. “Maybe I shouldn’t, knowing what I now know, but I can’t help it.” Even though every bone in your body was screaming at you to turn around, even though your heart was aching to catch one last glimpse at him, you continued to walk out the door, out the hut and didn’t stop until you reached your TIE. And just as you were taking off, after you have ripped parts of your clothes and carefully cut yourself with your lightsaber to make it seem as if Luke had bested you in battle, you finally did turn around and looked for Luke among the trees. And though you didn’t see him, something told you that he was there, watching you. It was that feeling that made you whisper the words you should have said to him whenever you had the chance. “I love you too. And I’m sorry, for everything.”

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I’m so sorry that this took ages, but I hope it was worth the wait. I really loved this idea and though I don’t think I really did it justice I have tried my best.

#luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker x y/n #luke skywalker imagine

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thefanbasewhore · 3 years

Text

United as One. || Part 3

Summary: Din tries to fix what he can while another Mandalorian clan leader comes to visit and the leader tends to find an interest in the reader.

Warning/Content: Soft!Din (as if I have to say it), angst, nsfw for hand job, a little bit of dirty talk but not much and mentions of death.

A/N: I also do not write smut often so bare with me I tried lol, but sorry It took so long !

Tag list here || Part 2. || Masterlist.

The room was engulfed in complete darkness, peaceful sleep finally washing over after hours of crying eventually her eyes hurt too much to keep open. Thankfully with sleep came an escape from reality, all problems momentarily gone. That’s until a soft whisper tickles her neck, it’s soothing, fingers tangle into hair, nails scratching her scalp but also makes her jump, eyes opening wide for the source of danger.

“It’s me, it’s just me.” Din is breathless, trying to sooth her with words. Nothing is said, there’s complete darkness except the little light the moon offers. It outlines the soft curve of his nose, shadow of his lips, just enough to see but not enough to commit to memory what the Mandalorian looks like. “Our son.” He pauses, “Grogu wants you.”

It’s not a complete lie but the only excuse he can think of to see her, it was very late. The celebration had finally ended, the night dragged but he still found himself right where he wanted to be. For some reason he can’t find the right words to say. “Cyar'ika, I -.”

“Save it Din, give me him.” His mouth shuts at her words, the darkness blocked any clues, any way her face would form to show her emotions but he felt it in her words. There were no more tears, it’s replaced with hot, firey anger.

Grogu without a second though climbs from Din’s hand and lays against her chest, a soft coo of acknowledgement. Right where he wanted to be.

“For you.” Din’s word peak an interest, eyes meeting his in pure instinct despite the darkness. Something cold, sharp is pressed into her hand. It takes a few minutes of feeling it to realize what it was, the signet that was wrapped around the blonde’s neck made her scowl but he couldn’t see it. “I want you to wear it, I made her give it back. I don’t want -.”

For the second time tonight he’s cut off by words that hiss venom. “You give me something you made for her?”

With those words he realizes what a stupid idea it was, he’s speechless at his own Idiocracy. To be fair though, he wasn’t thinking about anything but her, only trying to make her happy. To escape this feeling of his heart breaking inside his chest, it seems almost unavoidable.

“I’m sorry.” Words are breathless, his apology makes her sigh. No words could fix this, mend the hole in her heart, the betrayal she feels. “I can’t control these things, they were made thousands of years ago. I must honor the way of the Mandalorian, that entitles a riduur and a breeder. I want to.. for you but I can’t, this is the best I can do.” Fingers apply pressure to the beskar in her hand, the coolness making her shiver.

Din is still on his knees on the floor, elbows leaning on the bed, her face, at least he thinks it’s her face only inches apart.

“Why did you bring me here?” It’s asked again. All the days seemed to form together, a promise of a future with Din made it manageable but suddenly it’s suffocating. “You didn’t once bother tell me how it was going to be. You knew they wouldn’t accept me because I’m not a Mandalorian, I would be challenged, I will never be accepted as part of your clan.”

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” He selfishly admits, his own voice chokes with emotion. Tears sting against his own waterline. Maybe it was the long night, but it felt like forever since he’s seen her, talked to her. It makes him emotional, the turmoil he’s caused so far; it was his fault. He was to blame.

“So you sentence me to this?” Din’s eyes squeeze shut, they are so close.. but miles away. “I want to leave.”

“Please.” He begs, “Just try. It’s hard to understand why but it’s the way of the mandalorian, you wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m sick of hearing that!” Her voice rises, she almost sits up to show how much she means if but she feels the child twitch against her chest. “Maker, I would be happy not to see another Mandalorian again.”

“You don’t mean that.” Din’s lays his forehead against the edge of the bed, only inches away from her body. “I don’t like hearing you like this.”

She can’t see it but he’s pressing his two fingers against his chest superficial to where his heart beats. “It hurts me.”

Silence is all he’s given, his cheek lays flat against the mattress as his hand reaches for the signet. “You’re right, it isn’t made for you. Nothing in the whole universe can be made into what I feel for you.”

Din does not give her the opportunity to talk, “My eyes are dark brown. This you know but..”

The hand nudging hers open again to feel the weight of circular plastic, enough to fill her hand. “I want to show them to you.”

They’re the beads of the woman but now any claim he’s ever had is gone; no sign of him on her person. Fingers tip under her chin, “Turn the light on and look.”

“The creed.” The worried words make him sigh, slowly leaning against her neck, forehead against her cheek.

“I have an obligation to my clan, I must lead them but for you, to show my love for you I’ll have you something no one else has. Look at my face Sweetheart, I want you too..” he pauses, “See the color with your own eyes, seeing my eyes only belongs to you. Don’t leave, stay with me.”

It’s desperate and considering the situation absolutely necessary. Truthfully Din is getting frustrated, it shows in the tears that sting his waterline, in the way he squeezes the sheets of the bed with clenched fists. Shoulders are weighed down, all the responsibility of his clan, trying to make the girl understand.. It’s too much, there is no way to give honor to the clan, no one to honor her. He’s torn, an internal fight against what he knows his right but his heart hurts, but cannot let her go.

“See me the way no one else does.” It’s a plea, throat full with emotion, his own way asking her to say. “Please.. it’s all I can give.”

It’s more silence but the way they press into his cheeks makes him whine, a small cry of relief. There was no more coldness lingering in the air as she sits up, his head resting against her inner thigh, fingers start scratching his scalp.

Maybe it’s the desperate tone, the hot tears hitting her cheek but she leans over pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Din.. it’s okay.”

“It’s not, you hate it here.” He pauses, “You’re miserable, it’s not fair and I don’t want you to go.. I feel selfish Mesh’la.”

Hot tears flush his skin, the stress was too much, building up slowly with his own clans disappointment in him, the girl he’s loves finally with him where he belongs but his own people keen on breaking them apart.

“Stay here with me.. it will get better I promise. Asher means nothing to me.. she is a means to an future but she is not mine, you are.”

She silent, deep in thought as fingers pause their movement causing Din to nudge closer into her palm. Tips of dark ringlets tickle her fingers. The mention of another’s name from his lips squeezes her heart. “Cyar'ika.. please stay.”

She was upset, there was no question about it but these few hours alone allowing so much time to just think. It wasn’t Din fault, he must do right by his clan and that means insuring a future by claiming a breeder, despite not liking it, she couldn’t find herself to blame him. He tried to make it better taking his claim back, the signet thrown lazily next to them proves it, the small pile of dark beads that not scatter the floor, an act of service to show his love. It probably wasn’t a good idea, the elders will definitely have words to say but Din didn’t care, anything to fix the gaping hole that occupied where his heart should be.

“Okay..” it’s soft.. unsure but he swears that he’ll do anything to keep her here. The darkness of the room doesn’t show it but Din’s chest finally let’s out a breath of air. “I can’t promise anything.. but I will try Din.”

“Can I come up there with you?”

“You don’t have to ask Din. It’s your bed.”

Din stands on shaky legs but curls up next to his girl, for the first time tonight not aching with sadness, anxiety. There’s a shift in the air, it’s no longer tense but filled with comfortable silence. “I want you to have a safe space here, this could be yours. I don’t have to be here.”

Before she can argue his arms pull her into his chest, no doubt the clay smears against skin. Any reasonable person would think the basker it cold, and uncomfortable but it’s quite the opposite; soft, warmth against her cheek despite the small hairs that tickle her forehead but instinctively presses a soothing kiss to his chin.

Fingers soak against her skin, up and down the think of her forearm as deep and shallow breaths calm him down. Despite the fact she chose to forgive him, his heart is still stammering inside his chest.

“Look at me, see me the way no one else does.” It’s so easy to give up the creed, it’s all for her. He has no doubt that she will accept his offer of marriage, it may take time but he won’t give up.

“I don’t want to.” She pauses, “I don’t want to be the reason you disappoint your clan anymore then necessary.”

Din doesn’t know what to say. He’s happy at the answer but kind of hoped she did open her eyes, relieve him of this weight of the creed. “If you marry me.. you’ll be able to see whenever you want. It won’t break my creed.”

“I don’t think that’s for the best.” It’s finally said with his future’s best interest. The leader of the clan needed a strong queen, and will not accept anyone but Mandalorian like them. The way the elders talked about the marriage with her to Din was enough to know she will never be welcomed here, She would not be the reason for his shame.

“I was hoping you didn’t hear that.” She bites the inside of her cheek with heat that sears her face, not knowing what to say.

“Stay a little longer. If you decide you don’t want to marry me then I’ll bring you home myself. Be open minded with me. No matter how much I love you, I love you enough to let you go sweet girl. I want you to know that.” The words sting hard against both of their hearts, a large scar that would stay forever.

“I’ll stay with you.” While she doubts her mind will change, it hurts too much to think of a life without the Mandalorian, without Grogu. “I love you too Bear.”

The lips that meet hers are bruising, almost too rough as they show their appreciation but just enough that all air is knocked from her chest, heat sources from her stomach, setting cheeks ablaze. “Maker – you are so sweet, my sweet girl.”

“You – just always make me feel so…” He can’t put the feeling into words, how could he explain the thumping his chest every time she smiles? The instant warmth when her skin touches his own? There are no words that can explain the way his heat falters inside his chest, heat burns cheeks that it’s embarrassing, thankfully she can’t see. “Right…” Are the words he decided to go with, simple but they hold meaning. “It feels so right with you.”

***

Morning rolled around way too quick, the bright white light temporarily blinding the pair as the shift away from the window, it’s perfect sync the way his chest presses against her back and flushes against his skin, arms wrapping around her waist feel the warmth. Lips lay soft kisses against the skin of her shoulder with a soft sigh. “Goodmoring pretty girl.”

There’s a certain softness that lingers in the air, the vulnerability of last night weighs heavy but despite the tears when the morning light hits there’s hope, hope of holding onto what hangs by a thin thread.

Even though her eyes are open, she doesn’t dare turn due to the fear of too much light entering the room. Small, green fingers press against her cheeks with a soft coo, head tilting just enough so his head level with his mother. “Good morning bear..” Fingers stretching out to pull the child closer only to press a soft kiss to the talons of his fingers as she addresses him. “Hi little one, how long have you been up?”

Din doesn’t have to look at the child to know what he wants as he sighs, lips pressing into her neck to savior one more minute of her skin, her smell.

“Get ready, we will go get breakfast and go for a walk. I have something to show you."

***

After breakfast, making sure his girl and son are fed, he asks one of the others of the clan to watch the child, which is gladly accepted. It hurts, she’s glad for the little guy, how easily the clan wants him but can’t help but feel a little jealous, especially the looks they get as her and Din walk hand and hand into the forest.

During the little walk Din tells her stories of wondering in this exact forest, always getting in trouble for wondering too far, climbing trees that are too high, he’s always had that spark, the need to adventure, it’s no surprise why he left his home for so long.

The temple isn’t that big, small compared to the one she managed to squeeze into and interrupt the meeting between Din and the Elders yesterday but it’s older. The thickness and greenery of the forest had started to take it over, long vines and trees form into it, small peaks of gold and tan clay peek through, if it wasn’t for the sun hitting the peak of beskar at the point of the roof it would be impossible to even know it’s there.

Curious eyes peer back as she faces the helmet, through her own reflection she can see the way the sun beats down on her, eyes crystals as Din laces his fingers with her own guiding her towards the entrance with a, “Come, my love.”

The hall is dark, there’s no source of light until orange finger tips press into the side of his helmet where a small flash of light is orbited into the hall. There’s a few doors, old and withering but Din pulls her through one giant open arch and once entering the room she’s greeted with colorful bindings of books, covers made from bright oranges to dull browns, bookcases built into the clay walls surround her.

There’s a large book in particular, all alone on a podium that stands alone in the center of the room, it’s made from old leather, pages torn and weathered but the same symbol on the front cover is the necklace that is wrapped around Grogu’s neck from a piece of strand, the one Din has given him so long ago.

"This is my legacy.” Din’s fingers press against the small of her back, guiding slowly towards the old book. Orange fingertips run the binding, helmet looking back at her for confirmation. She nods unsurely as he flips it open, there’s scribbles, symbols in which she doesn’t understand but there’s pages and pages until he stops. There’s two words at the tops of the page, fingers trace the hydrographics as she catches the sigh under the vocoder. “I was not born a Mandalorian but the people who took me in, my father watched out for the clan before me. This is his name.”

There’s a line, different from all the others bold in the color red, the first of it’s kind as he traces it to the other word. “This is my name. Much like you, I was an outsider. I wasn’t part of the clan until I swore the creed.”

“You want me to swear the creed?”

“No mesh'la.” It’s amazing how clam and collective his is, never faltering from what he’s trying to explain just trying to get her to understand, feel what he’s trying to say. “The red line broke the first rule in the history of this clan, no outsider even a foundling is able to be Mand'lor but here I am.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are so worried about my name but being my wife will not shame me.” Din continues before any other words could be said, “You believe that you will make the clan dislike me but I have been shamed by whole life. My father made sure of that when he named me to suppress him as next Mand'lor. He broke the rule of only a child being born into a clan to be leader. He chose me.”

“Din you are a real -.”

“Shhhh. Let me finish.” A soft hand soothes the top of her head, words dying in her throat as he plays with the tips of her hair, smooth and untamed from just being thrown back into a messy updo. “My father is much like me. Him and my mom could not have children, they tried and tried. For pure respect for my mother he wouldn’t accept his breeder so he named me his son, it was against all rules, made me next in line.”

The red line almost represents how different he is, the target he still has on his back even though it was so many cycles ago. “You will not shame me, they already don’t accept me. They do not want me as their leader but not even the elders can take my title away only by a challenge but I don’t see that happening.”

He pauses, pressing closer until the helmet kisses the smooth skin of her cheek. “What I am trying to say is you don’t need to worry about my name, it’s already wrong to them, I will never be what they want.” His touch is soft, gentle as flat palms rub softly against shoulders, rubbing gently against her biceps, squeezing gently. “If it ever comes to it Grogu will be named by heir, I will not accept any breeder.”

The feeling in his own chest was heavy, crushing memories of teasing and unwanted stares as a child, he can still see some now as he walks through the small village, he was never meant to be here, he’s an outsider no matter how much he wants to believe less. “We are the same, except I am not more accepted because I am Mandalorian, while you are -”

“Not.” She finishes biting her lip with such intensity that the skin breaks, a small spot of blood appear but gloves press against her cheek, angling her face to meet his gaze, or which she guesses is his gaze.

“You will be if you marry me, they will have to accept you. It’s the creed.” Guilty eyes drops from his own, watching the way his chest moves under all the beskar, slow, nervous breaths but he understands. “You don’t need to answer me, I told you to think about it but just know, nothing in this world can come between us. No elders and especially no breeder, there’s no one else I want. For you I would do anything and if they means breaking all the rules and having my clan disapprove of me more I do not care.” Smooth fingers rub across cheek bones, a tickle of a smile against his features.

“You can’t see but I’m smiling. Just being here with you is enough for me.”

There’s a ghost of a one that makes her cheeks blush at his close proximity. “I bet it’s beautiful bear.”

There’s something sweet about the words, almost tooth rotting as his chest fills will molten lava, fingers sieving to take in the hit of them. Never had he heard such sweetness, such softness when it came to himself, it’s intoxicating, making him dizzy with want, eyes drop down to her lips, covering her eyes and reaching behind him to throw the helmet to the ground, not caring where it falls to press smooth lips against her own.

The air barely touched his face before he is tugging her forward, hand that once covered her eyes tangle her hair as their lips meet with a rush, feverish and filled with intensity. The force of his lips on hers, tongue meeting hers with such intensity it’s bruising but the only way he can pour his heart out. Hearts beating fast inside both of their chests, her own hands find the ringlets of his hair, tugging to deepen the kiss as fist tighten on his own end. Din tilts his head slightly, the bridge of his nose pressing against her nose bumping his own lips into her top one, tongue sliding against them with a deep moan but he stops - doesn’t pull away just enjoys the feeling of hers against his own.

At first she’s confused, breathless moving away but keeping her eyes closed but the heavy throbbing against her hip gives it away. Maker, he’s embarrassed, cheeks hot as he presses his own forehead against hers with a sigh. “I’m sorry -.”

“What are you sorry for?” She offers him a comforting smile, pressing a kiss against his cheek, it’s sweet. “There’s no reason.”

“So sweet.” The way she smiles against his skin, feeling his own dimples against her cheek as arms wrap tightly around the Mandalorian only to feel him squeeze back. “My sweet girl.”

***

By the time they get back darkness is starting to fall over the horizon, the large fire and a few torches light the way to home. Din has left a little over an hour ago, which is usually normal except for the fact that he said he’ll be right back with Grogu but still isn’t here.

She debates leaving, mostly because the glances and snarls that would follow her especially not be escorted by Din, but she’s worried. What if something happened to Din? Or worse Grogu?

Once again she was wondering down the lit up path, no one seemed to be around, a few children pause from their playing and smile at her but other then that she enters the dinning hall, it’s filled. The first thing she manages to do is smell the beautiful aroma of food that makes her stomach growl, not realizing how hungry she is but that comes to an end when the whole room drops silent.

All eyes are on her, forks dropping with a clank as hateful eyes glare intensely. In the corner of her eyes she sees the Mandalorian stand, no one can see his face but the way the ‘T’ of his visor stares is dangerous, testing, the growl the rumbles his chest is a warning, anyone who had a scene would deal with him. That was enough promise to have the room eating again, no longer silent as chatter fills the mess hall again.

A hand is placed against the small of her back, cheek of his helmet kisses her own with a whisper. “What are you doing here, love?”

The words sting, eyes shift over his own with a grimace as she pulls away from his touch. “Why? Is this only for the clan?”

A way to separate her more, keep the clan happy by isolating her from any form any outing. It makes sense, the Mandalorian wouldn’t have his people constantly at his throat, suddenly his words from before no longer mattered, they made her stomach twist, eyes water as the Din shakes his head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. hey, hey..” Fingers pull her close into his chest, fingers grip her chin, force her to peer into his eyes. “We have a visitor from another clan is all. He can be a real asshole, I just didn’t want you around him.

“Why because I’ll shame you even more?”

“Stop.” It’s firm, sends shivers down her skin at how he stiffens, looking around the room not wanting to make too much of a scene. “Come sit and eat.. I was just about to bring you dinner.”

It’s hard not to be obedient, he’s intimating, towers over her and she just knows the scowl under his helmet. Before anymore attention can be drawn to the pair he’s walking towards the table, leaving her standing there with no chose to take the seat next to him.

“Who is this?” She barely had a chance to register the two additions to the table, the one is a woman with long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes that sits almost on top of the man, she wears nothing but a thin, sheer dress that when she moves her arms the outline of her nipples can be seen but no one seems too interested, almost as if it was normal. There’s a blue Mandalorian next to her, large beads lay against his chest, they also match Din’s necklaces but are made from beskar and gold. His armor is quiet similar, but it’s a dark, royal blue with lines of gold in the creases of it, his helmet his decorated with dark, black lines of clay, there’s no symbols just senseless finger paint.

Din looks up to meet his gaze, there’s a warning in his silence but the other Mandalorian doesn’t seem to care, only tilts his head with a look she can only guess is mischief. “You know Din, It’s very uncommon to take a mistress before having a wife.”

“I’m not a mistress.” The words are hissed through her teeth, jaw flexing as she clenches them. The blue Mandalorian laughs, it’s crackles darkly and makes her stomach turn.

“Firey, I love it. I wonder if what you have under that tunic is as beautiful as you are, Mesh’la.” The same words that sound so good on the tongue of Din sound so sickly and dark on the strangers. Fist ball against her lap, the feeling of Din’s hands against her back are there to calm her, stopping her from speaking anymore so naturally, he does instead.

“Leave her alone.” Din wishes to say more but just dismisses the man, at the very moment he could not risk a war between the clans, especially after being gone for so long. What good leader would bring war and destruction on only their first few weeks back? Besides it was only a few weeks before the Winter Solaces and despite how much he wanted to wrap his hands around Viven’s neck, he couldn’t risk returning from the summer lands with his own homeland in ruins.

Din was going to let it go, leave his girl to eat but the words Viven says next makes his blood boil, “You can have mine, If i can have yours.”

His mouth falls open under the helmet, anger burns his veins and continues to warming is body as it spreads like water until he’s abruptly standing but Viven is not easily scared, he matches his stance, leaning over to push Din’s fingers away as they come down as a warning against his chest as he speaks. “You are in my land, insulting my woman -.”

Din’s hand twitches next to the blaster strapped to his hip as Viven leans closer. “You don’t scare me Din, you’re not even a real Mandalorian.”

The way Din shakes is scary, trembling as his breaths holds inside his chest before long, quick breaths move the beskar as he moves to with no doubt pounce at the man but the small hands takes his own distract him as warm fingers twine through the gaps of his own quickly pulling him towards the exit without a word.

She manages to pull them into a room down the hall, hands pressing against his chest in hopes that the change of scenery will help but his hands snatch her wrist, a rough almost inaudible growl catches the static of the vocoder. “The way he talked about you like you were some piece of meat, I’m going to kill him.”

“Shhh.” She sooths, fingers pressing against that junction of where the helmet and his shirt almost meet, leaving that small piece of skin that just radiates heat, curling the hairs with her pointer finger. His chest is stuttering under her touch but he’s too angry to notice, it’s sits in his stomach every breath that expands his chest burns with fury.

“No, I’m going to go out there and teach him how to respect a woman.” He’s trembling, intensely staring at her as she reaches over to curl her fingers under the chest plate but he’s ready to break away, fist forming to charge out that door and snap his neck but as her hands drop lower his breath stops. His chest doesn’t dare move as her own hands shake but for a whole another reason. She’s nervous, scared of whatever the Mandalorian might do and this time it would be her fault, she would be the reason and the clan would blame him, hate him more than they already do. Fingers slip low and lower until they squeeze the outline of his erection.

He didn’t even notice over the anger and frustration that had filled his entire being but none the less she earns a lustful moan. His fingers catch her wrist, rougher then he tends too but he can think, with anger rushing his body and her hand wrapping around his throbbing hardness. It’s too much, other hand finds her hip digging small crescent shaped marks into the skin through her shirt. “W-What are you doi -.”

“Shhh, let me take care of you. Can I?” It was risky, nothing she would ever do but the only way she could possibly think to distract him. He’s tense, not moving a muscle as the small hands leave his erection instead fall under his shirt as fingers run along the line of his trousers, feeling the coolness of the jean’s button before pressing down and pulling it from the buttonhole. Her hand slips down, past the elastic of his underwear to hold his heavy cock in her hand, he hisses instantly at the contact, eyes never leaving hers as a thumb moves up to spread the beading pre-cum to lubricate her hand as gives him a test stoke in which he lets out a loud groan.

“Please.” It’s a whimper, barely audible but just enough to show how bad he needs this. Almost instantly her hands tighten, moving at a pace that makes his head spin.

His heart is pounding inside his chest, it’s heard in his ears unable to make out any other words. Heat fills the helmet, a thick fog made from his own pants makes it hard to breath, it’s exciting, exhilarating as he can still hear the chatting and clanking of forks that’s just separated by a wall.

“Maker, pretty girl.” It’s whimpered against her hair slow, and breathlessly through the static of his helmet as it falls to rest his forehead against the top of her hair as her hand sets an unforgiving pace.

Small pants bounce of the walls, his hips move to meet up to her own trembling hands. He let’s out a whine of disappointment as she pulls away but his eyes widening as she brings her hand close to her mouth, spitting on her palm. “Fuck…”

He’s so lost in the moment, the way her wet palm wraps around his pulsing cock as sweat begins to bead across his forehead, heat growing deep inside his stomach as he trembles under the feeling of her hand tighten around the base of his cock. Eyes squeezing in pleasure as the familiar pit inside his stomach begins to build as she strokes in time to meet up with his thrusts.

He’s falling deeper and deeper into her spell, thoughts filled with her.

It’s all her, how good her hand feels milking him for all he can offer, how beautiful she looks like this, eyes never leaving his own as the words fall from swollen lips. “Are you going to cum for me Din?”

It’s pure heaven, the way her thumb rubs his head ever so often. Just the right amount of pressure that it stings so good, burns his thighs as her fingertips dig into them.

“Yes, Maker, yes sweetheart.” He chokes, body stiffening as he feels his balls tighten, body stutter as she pushing his pants lower past his knees as she kneels. The sounds that bounce off the wall are sinful, dirty and wet as a familiar ball of heat fills his stomach as she drops onto her knees.

She offers her face, mouth opening slightly in concentration as her hand squeezes his head one more time but he can’t help but think it’s for him as his thighs quiver and with one last trust into her hand as white, thick strands of cum paint her face pretty.

The Mandalorian in panting above her, fingers that found her hair are now rubbing softly, curling around the hair in a comforting but lazily way. He feels slightly dizzy, a post orgasm haze blurs his eyes, makes his knees ache but none the less he tucks himself back into his pants before sitting in front of her. He pulls at his cape, pressing gently against her skin to wipe at his mess, a soft laughing falling from his lips.

“To think I thought you brought me in here to calm me down.” There’s that sweet smile that makes his heart jump but the way her eyebrows furrow with playful eyes is new.

“That’s what I was doing.”

“Sneaky girl.” The words are whispered affectionally into her neck as he finishes and throws the cape somewhere across the room. There’s a small tisk that falls from his lips makes her laugh. Fingers roam the bottom of the helm, seeking a kiss from those soft lips but the loud commotion outside makes him stiffen, raising to his feet as the yelling continue. His hand takes her own, this time he is the one dragging her through the threshold of the dinning hall. Viven stands over the crowd as if he wants to speak but that’s not what pisses Din off, it’s how dangerously close to his throne, almost acting like it doesn’t exist.

“This man can’t lead you!” Viven’s words are loud, powerful from his chest as he catches their attention. The dinning hall is quiet now, a celebration now ruined with sourness. “He will betray the way of the Mandalore, he will shame us all, he has no wife, offers no future for you. He holds a foundling that will never survive, it is too weak. He has failed to bring it back to it’s people.”

Din stiffens at the words, hateful as they spray across the room. His son will survive, he is stronger than anyone here, no one chooses to see it. The mention of Grogu as his first balling on his lap as murmurs break the threshold of silence, heavy boots echo across the hall until they take one step onto the platform, standing to tower the man as the orange tips of his gloves poke at the blue Mandalorian’s armor. “Leave my son’s name out of your mouth, mind your words.”

"Or what? You already shame your clan by not having a wife… Do you plan on stringing this poor girl on forever?” The words make her cheeks flush in anger but realization hits Din almost instantly - the man had made it clear he wanted her but only because he thought it was all for fun, nothing but a sense or pleasure. Viven thought Din had no intention of marrying the girl because it was unheard of, a clan leader must marry another of similar rank, not a nobody who was not a mandalorian none the less. Then again Din wasn’t supposed to have the power he holds, the rules aren’t meant to be broken but also are not set in stone. Even though it wasn’t seen, Din’s stare was intense and boring a hole into the front of Viven’s visor, heart thumping against his chest with frustration, anger that Viven ever thought he would just give her away, trade her like she was some kind of property.

“That’s not true.” The words leave her mouth before she realizes what she is saying, she’s so frustrated with the whole situation and watching how Din’s shoulders fell with Viven’s last words was the last straw. “We are getting married.”

The way everyone’s glares towards her at the words made her nervous but nothing compared to the way her heart jumped inside her chest as Din’s helmet snaps in her direction. Din felt his cheeks warm, suddenly the man challenging his authority didn’t matter. He’s thankful for the helmet at this very moment as it hides the pink patches of blush on his chest and cheeks. He tries to open his mouth and speak but the twitch of his lips stops him, she looks beautiful right now.

Frustration clear on her red face, eyebrows furrow with agitation but she bites her bottom lip at his gaze feeling heat over her own skin as she chews it nervously. For a moment they are the only two people the exist, a little lost, unsure but no matter how much they try and fight it they would never be the same without each other. “I’ve accepted his marriage proposal.”

With those five words the room breaks out in chaos but Din can’t seem to care, his eyes can’t leave the sight of his future riduur.

Viven’s dark eyes run over the sight of Din, a loud growl coming from his chest. “I warned your father about you becoming leader, you do nothing but shame our name. You’re not even a real Mandalorian!”

Din’s body physically stiffens, hot, pulsing anger setting his skin ablaze. It’s not anything new, hearing it his whole life how he will never match up to the expectations of them but none the less he was still named leader.

Viven yells words in a different dialect but the reaction of the crowd is filled with yells of support, cheering in a sickening way that makes her stomach twist. Din’s eyes shift from hers to the blue Mandalorian, his words are also foreign but the crowd let’s out a victory cry, it’s sick of easily his own clan turns on him.

Din Djarin has accepted the challenge to the death for his rightful place as Mand'lor and she has absolutely no idea as Din reaches behind his back to retrieve the spear of beskar as he lets out a warriors cry.

Tags: @xxyoshiplushxx, @altarsw, @dinsbeskar, @engie115, @owloveyounever, @peterpangirl21, @couldntbedamned, @poguesvixen, @mudhornchronicles, @mcueveryday, @softly-sad, @heythere-mel, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @the-last-twin-of-krypton, @nikkixostan, @coonflix, @victias (if you want to be tagged, tag list is up by summary)

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fangirlingtodeath513 · 3 years

Text

siren | a writer’s choice bingo fill

writer’s choice bingo masterpost rating: mature warnings: none

For a hunter, Dean’s frequent visits to the monster bar are unusual, to say the least. His profession tends to not mingle with monsters, even though the ones that frequent this place are the ones that live amongst humans without any issue. Dean doesn’t care, though. He’s met good friends through here and even had a few flings with some of them. He feels more at home here than he does in a hunter crowd, and he’s not really sure if he should feel as comfortable as he does about that fact.

Doesn’t stop him from looking for someone to spend the night with, though. It’s been too long since he’s had someone underneath him—or been underneath someone, frankly—so he’s nursing a single beer as he looks for someone that piques his interest.

It doesn’t take long. A dark-haired man walks through the door within fifteen minutes of Dean sitting down and he looks perfect. Dean doesn’t even hesitate to grab his beer and vacate his table, sidling up to the man at the bar.

“Hey there, gorgeous. Let me buy you a drink?”

The man turns to look at him and Dean can’t help but feel a little self-conscious as the stranger’s eyes skim the length of his body. “You can’t buy me the kind of drink I want.”

Dean frowns. This is a monster bar, so if the guy’s looking for blood or something, that’s not exactly an odd request. “You sure about that?”

The stranger smirks, leaning against the counter and raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Unless you’re prepared to ingest my venom and allow me to feed off your adoration for the next several hours, yes, I’m positive.”

Dean’s brain short-circuits at that because honestly… he wouldn’t be opposed. It must show on his face because the man tilts his head as he watches Dean. “Siren, right?” The man nods, so Dean clears his throat and finishes what’s left of his beer. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Dean catches the bartender’s eye and closes out his tab, turning back to the man. “I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Castiel,” the man answers with a wry smile. “How do I know you don’t have a bronze knife on you somewhere?”

Dean can’t help but smirk. “You can pat me down when we get to where we’re going, hm? My motel isn’t far.”

Castiel hums, nodding once as he turns to leave. Dean grins and slips his jacket on, following him to the parking lot. After a short discussion about the logistics of getting to Dean’s motel, they both pile into the Impala and Dean pulls onto the road.

“Do I even want to know how many daggers you’ve got in here?”

Dean laughs. “Four, but they’re all in the trunk. Don’t encounter sirens very often, honestly. Besides, I’d need the blood of one of your victims, right? I doubt you just leave those lying around.”

Castiel quirks an eyebrow. “You do realize if you ingest my venom, you’ll be considered my victim?”

Dean blinks and glances over at Castiel. “Huh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

An uncomfortable silence settles between them, so Dean just stays quiet as he drives. He doesn’t really blame Castiel for being nervous. A lot of hunters don’t care about the monsters that live in the gray areas, most are content to kill every monster they come across no matter what. Of course, Castiel would be concerned.

The parking lot is empty when they get there, so Dean parks in front of his room and pops the trunk before climbing out. Castiel watches him curiously, so Dean offers him a small smile and tugs the false door up to reveal his arsenal. “4 bronze daggers there. I’ve got a gun hidden in my room, though that won’t do much to you. Couple of steel knives that I’ll leave out here.” Dean proves his point by grabbing the sheaths from his waist and ankle and tossing them in the trunk.

Castiel chuckles. “I believe you, but thank you. You wouldn’t have been allowed in that bar if you weren’t friendly. Benny takes security seriously and, no offense, I could smell the hunter on you five miles away.”

Dean smirks. “I taste better than I smell, promise.”

Castiel rolls his eyes and follows Dean into his room, depositing his trenchcoat on the chair near the door. “You’re positive you don’t mind? The effect will wear off by morning.”

Dean hums, already beginning to unbutton his flannel. “Not even a little. There a certain way you need to do it?”

Castiel smiles and crosses to Dean in a few long strides, cupping his cheek gently. “A kiss will work just fine.”

Dean’s not sure what he’s supposed to feel when their lips meet, but he definitely doesn’t feel poisoned. Not that he’d know what it felt like anyway—he wasn’t lying when he told Castiel he’d only seen a few sirens in his career. Dean lets himself get lost in the kiss, barely even noticing when Castiel starts to push the flannel off of him. He’s way more on board once Cas starts to unbutton his jeans, his long fingers brushing over the erection already forming in his briefs.

“You’re right, Dean, you do taste better than you smell,” Castiel mumbles, a small smile on his lips as he leans down to kiss Dean again.

Dean pulls up to the nondescript apartment building, sitting there for a moment before shutting the car off. He hasn’t seen Castiel for over four months—apparently, the length of time a siren can go without feeding—but Castiel had called out of the blue and asked him to come over. Dean had only been a state over on a hunt, so he’d wrapped up his business there and driven straight to Castiel’s.

He looks weak when he opens the door, and far more pale than the last time Dean had seen him.

“Cas? You okay?”

Castiel smiles weakly, stepping aside to let Dean into the apartment. “I’m alright. I went… longer than I should have without feeding. I wanted to, I just... “ He turns his gaze back to Dean and the unspoken words hang heavy between them. Dean thinks he knows what Castiel was about to say, but he doesn’t want to pry.

“Alright, well let’s get you back to yourself then, hm?”

Castiel smiles gratefully, allowing Dean to draw him into a kiss.

It becomes a recurring thing between them. Every month or so, sometimes more often if Dean’s passing through Cas’s state, they’ll meet up and sleep together. Castiel gets his fix of adoration, as he likes to say, and Dean gets a warm, fluffy bed and a good fuck. He can’t complain, even if he does wake up a little bit tired the morning after.

“So, Benny’s hiring,” Dean offers one morning over breakfast. It’s been almost a year since he went home with Castiel for the first time, something he still can’t believe. He’s never actually had a relationship this long, and they’re not even actively in a relationship.

Castiel quirks an eyebrow. “Indeed. I saw the sign on the door.”

Dean hums. “I’d make a good bartender, I think.”

Castiel leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m sure you’d be wonderful at it. You want to give up hunting?”

“I’ve been wanting a life outside of hunting recently,” Dean admits with a shrug. “Gets a little too dangerous after a while. Besides, it would be nice to sleep on a comfortable bed like yours every night instead of those shitty motel beds. Or worse, Baby’s back seat.”

Castiel studies his face for a moment before frowning. “I’m sorry, I must have given you too much venom last night. Perhaps you should stay another day.”

“What? No, Cas, I’m being serious. I like it here, I’ve got friends here, I’ve got you—well, not… you know, I… fuck. I didn’t mean it like that.” Dean sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I like you, alright? It’s not because of your venom, it’s because of you.”

Castiel smiles, though it looks sad. “We were up late last night, I’m sure my venom hasn’t worked its way out of your system yet.”

Dean scoffs. “Hey, I can think for myself, thank you very much. Your venom’s not even that potent, man, it’s never made me feel any different.”

Castiel squints at him. “Never?”

“Nope. Why?”

“Well it’s supposed to make you disoriented and passive, so you’ll follow my every order no matter what. It… doesn’t do that?”

Dean snorts. “Follow your every order? God no. If you’re so convinced I’m still poisoned, make me do something.”

Castiel frowns. “I don’t like making people do things. It’s why I’m always so careful with what I say when we’re together.”

“I’m telling you, I’m immune to your venom or something. C’mon, try it.”

It takes a moment, but Castiel eventually acquiesces. “Refill my coffee.”

Dean waits a moment, half expecting to be compelled to refill Castiel’s mug, but nothing happens. Castiel frowns and sits up.

“Kiss me.”

Dean waits again, raising an eyebrow at Castiel. “See? Nothing.”

Castiel frowns. “Stay with me tonight? I want to see if you’re immune after you ingest my venom.”

Dean smirks. “Damn, Cas, if you wanted to fuck me again you coulda just asked.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, though the hint of a blush on his cheeks gives him away. “So you’ll stay?”

Dean hums his agreement, eyes widening as Castiel leans over the table to kiss him. Once again, they both wait, expecting God only knows what to happen, but nothing changes.

“Go get my phone,” Castiel orders. The tone of his voice sends a shiver down Dean’s spine and though he wants to obey, he won’t. Castiel needs the proof. “You’re actually immune,” Castiel breathes, a look of wonder written on his face. “You want to move here to be closer to me of your own free will?”

Dean frowns. “Yeah, man. I like you, Cas. Not your venom.”

Castiel grins, leaning over to kiss him again. “Then just move in with me. I love you, I just didn’t want to force you to be with me.”

Dean blinks. “You love me?”

Castiel chuckles. “Why do you sound so surprised? You’re easy to fall for, Dean.”

Dean grins, pulling Cas in for another kiss, their breakfast entirely forgotten between them. “I’ll go get my stuff out of my car and call Benny.”

Castiel hums. “Later. Right now, we need to celebrate.”

Dean laughs. “Oh? How so?”

Castiel smirks, quickly clearing off one side of the table before lifting Dean onto it and settling between his legs. “Oh, I can think of a few ways.”

#writersofdestiel #deancasfanficnet #profoundnet #destiel #destiel fanfic #writerschoicemasterpost

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dontcare77ghj · 3 years

Text

Tree

Steve x reader x Bucky x Sam

Reader POV

The year was 1516, it was all hallows eve, and you were standing at the edge of the wood near your village.

You were waiting for your lover to arrive with a horse so the two of you could elope. Neither of your parents approved of your relationship, but you wouldn't hear of it.

You were in love with this man, and you desired to be his. You wanted to be his wife.

So, the two of you had made a plan. You would steal a bag of silver and gold from your father, he would take a horse, and the two of you would marry without your family's consent.

The moon was at its highest point, and you were beginning to feel scared. It was all hallows eve, a full moon, you standing in front of the woods, and your lover was nowhere in sight.

There was a loud crack behind you that caused you to jump. Your head snapped behind you as you tried to see what had made the noise.

Your eyes were desperately scouring the wood when a sharp pain exploded in your back.

You let out a loud scream, hand attaching itself to the area as you whipped around to see your lover standing there with a knife.

"Henry?" You whimpered, jumping back as he slashed at you once more. Without a second thought, you rushed into the woods.

You stumbled several times before you decided to kick off your shoes, throw your coin purse, and hike up your long skirt. You could hear Henry behind you screaming your name as you dashed to the left and fell down a hill.

You rolled down the long slope, branches, and prickles scratching your face and arms as you let out small cries. As you reached the bottom of the hill, you laid there for several seconds as Henry's yells dulled into silence.

The pain in your back startled you back into reality, and you had to press your hand to your mouth to silence your cry.

You needed to find help.

As you attempted to stand, your legs gave way and caused you to go tumbling to the forest floor. You tried to stand twice more before abandoning the idea and crawling forwards.

You couldn't say for how long you crawled along the forest floor, but it was a while before you conceded and stopped. The reality of what had happened crashed down on you as you laid, bleeding on the trunk of a tree.

The full moon was shining onto your face as your blood dripped onto the exposed roots of the old tree.

"I don't want to die." You whispered aloud. "I don't want to die. Not like this." You said to yourself, to the moon, to the forest as your eyes closed and your head fell back against the tree, and you fell from the world.

You didn't die.

When you awoke the next morning, there was a loud humming noise in your ears as you made the trek to the edge of the forest.

As you made it to the edge of the wood, suddenly your legs couldn't move. You tried for hours, ran through the majority of the woods, trying to find a way out, but every time you made it to the edge, you were unable to move.

The humming in your ears followed you as you somehow made it back to the tree where you had woken up.

Do not cry. A low voice said into your mind. The sudden appearance from the voice startled you and caused you to jump upright.

"Who said that?" You called, spinning in a circle. "Who's there?"

I am in front of you, young one.

"The tree?" You murmured to yourself. The voice was silent as you reached forward and pressed your hand to the trunk of the tree.

You gasped as sparks traveled through your arm and throughout your body. The humming in your ear turned into loud shouting, and then you were gone.

As it turns out, on that fateful all hallows eve, something happened to you. As you laid dying, your blood mingled with the roots and soil of the tree. This, combined with the full moon, had intertwined your spirit with the tree.

You were a part of the tree, and it a part of you.

This is why you could understand not just your tree, but the other trees of the wood. And they could hear and listen to you too.

It was also why you couldn't leave the woods. You were as bound to the earth here as your tree was.

In the beginning, you had tried to keep track of your time here. Counted out the days and weeks, but soon it became too hard, and you lost track.

Be careful, young one, you could fall. The tree chided as you walked along the thick branches.

"I am always careful." You grinned, lightly hopping to another branch. "Besides, I have had much practice."

You have had much practice in falling. The tree teased you.

"And that practice has left me an experienced climber." You shrugged. You had just climbed to the top of the tree when you witnessed something fall from the sky. "What was that?"

Perhaps you should investigate.

Without another word, you jumped from the tree and began to race towards the crash.

As you got closer, you slowed down and hid behind a tree. From there, you could see what appeared to be a large pile of scraped metal in a heap behind three men.

Two of the men were laid unconscious while a blonde was attempting to help one.

You should go and help them.

"I don't believe that would be a good idea." You whispered.

You are scared. The tree acknowledged your fears. My dear girl, you have no need to fear these men. I sense no danger from them.

"Are you sure?"

I am sure, Y/N. Go and help them.

"Of course." You nodded before moving out into the open. "Allow me to help you." You said to the blonde, startling him.

"Who are you?" He demanded, grabbing a circular disk from beside him.

"My name is Y/N. I mean no harm. I merely wish to help your friends." You said, raising your hands. "Your friend needs yarrow root." You nodded to the brunette. "I just want to help." You repeated to him.

"Please, help us." The blonde's resolve crumbled after a second.

You rushed into action, finding the root quickly and mashing it into a paste with the knife from your belt.

As you coated the brunette's wounds, the blonde was making a splint for the man with darker skin.

"Steve." The blonde announced, causing you to look up from your work.

"Pardon?"

"My name. My name is Steve. Thank you for helping me." Steve told you.

"Of course." You nodded. "The three of you are going to need shelter for the night." You said, noting the darkening sky.

"Where can we find shelter?" Steve asked.

"You can stay with me." You told him. "I live close by."

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Steve breathed. "I can't carry Sam and Buck at once, though," Steve added more to himself.

"Another thing I can help with." You smiled, jumping up and moving to the closest tree. Pressing your hand into the bark, you closed your eyes and passed on your need to it.

Suddenly a large section of bark from the trunk of the tree slid from it and landed gently at your feet.

"Do you think we should carry them or drag your friends back to my home?" You asked, turning to the shocked blonde.

"Your home is lovely." Steve complimented you as you gathered a handful of apples.

"Thank you." You smiled, handing him an apple, and taking a seat beside him. "The trees donated the woods, and I gathered the ferns and leaves myself."

"How did you do that?" Steve questioned you. "Get the tree to do that? And all this?"

"It's very complicated. I'm not even sure how it works, precisely myself." You murmured, looking down. "A long time ago, I was attacked and bleeding out. It was all hallows eve, and my blood mixed with this tree's life force. My spirit is a part of this tree, and this tree is a part of me. I awoke after my death to find I was connected to not only this tree but the rest in this forest." You explained to him.

"My ma used to tell me stories when I was a kid. It was mostly Celtic mythology, but it sorta sounds like you're a Dryad." Steve told you. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago. At least, I believe it was. Frankly, I lost track of time many moon cycles ago." You said.

"What was the last year you remember?"

"It was 1516 when I died."

"Y/N, it's currently 2018," Steve informed you, causing you to drop your apple in shock.

Sam, Steve, and Bucky had been staying with you for two full moon cycles. The metal they had crashed, a jet Sam told you, was entirely unsalvagable meaning, they couldn't call their team for a rescue.

The nearest town was apparently seventeen hours away, and Sam and Bucky were too injured to walk.

You didn't mind having guests for many reasons. One being you hadn't been in contact with another human who had good intentions for years.

To have people who had been outside these woods, to talk to was a dream come true.

You loved their company more than you could admit. You and Steve would talk about mythology, books, and stories for hours on end. You and Bucky would about your shared interests in nature and in animals until the sunset. And you could listen to Sam explain the outside world and what had happened since your death until he lost his voice.

But they would also listen to you. When you'd explain what you could do, how you'd spend your days, and what life was like when you were alive.

"I can't believe you've never had a burger before." Bucky shook his head as you and Steve picked blackberries.

"To be fair, growing up, we weren't the wealthiest. We were well off and could occasionally afford something from the butcher but not often." You said, smiling as Steve threw a berry at Sam.

"We have to find a way to get you a burger," Sam said, looking at you from where he laid with Bucky. "Maybe you could come with us when we find a way home."

"I couldn't. I can't leave the forest." You shook your head.

"Seriously?" Sam questioned you.

"I tried to leave, but I can't move past the edge of the wood." You told him. "My tree is bound here, and so am I."

"Jesus." Bucky whistled lowly.

"I'm not complaining. I love my life here. I love the animals, the land and the trees. But it does get very lonely here. Before the three of you, I hadn't seen people for fourteen moons."

"Where did they go?"

"They tried to destroy the forest. Men began cutting down trees with these electric contraptions. I could hear all the trees screaming, but I hid until they started cutting my tree." You said, lifting your head and showcasing your neck. "The second they cut into my tree, I began to feel the pain it did."

"What happened to them?"

"I frightened and angry, and it was as if the forest came to life." You said, looking down. "I don't know what I did, but none of those men came out alive." You added, lightly tracing the scar on your throat.

"That wasn't your fault. You lost control. It happens to the best of us." Steve assured you.

"They still died by my hand. It is still an accident I caused."

"Do you regret it?" Bucky asked you. "Do you regret what you did?"

"Every day." You nodded. "I regret what happened to them every day."

"Then that's all you can do. All you can do is look back on your mistakes and regret them." Bucky told you. "Take it from me as someone who has made many mistakes over their lifetime." He said, causing you to nod.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, Steve carry me back to the treehouse," Sam said, reaching his arms out to the blonde. "I think it's time we try to cook for Y/N."

The boys had officially been in your forest for three months. The three were all healed up but were still staying with you.

"Bucky, no!" You shrieked as the man wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground.

"Come swim with us, doll." Bucky grinned, walking you over to the lake where Steve and Sam were waiting.

"I swear, Bucky." You began before being tossed into a waiting Sam's arms. As you sputtered up water, Bucky stood on the bank laughing hardly. "I'll give you something to laugh about." You grinned, flicking your hand, causing a branch to whip Bucky into the water.

"Okay, okay, I give!" Bucky shouted as Steve and Sam howled with laughter. "You win!" He surrendered.

The three of you spent hours in the lake until you were all pruney, which is when you all moved onto the shore.

"If you could have one thing, what would it be?" Sam asked randomly as the four of you gazed at the clouds. "I'd kill for one of Stark's smoothies."

"A dragon," Bucky said immediately.

"Ma's soup," Steve responded.

"What about you, Y/N? If you could have one thing in this world, what would it be?" Bucky asked after you remained silent.

"I want to have love." You said without looking away from the sky. "I think I stopped believing it was a real thing after Henry for a long time."

"And now?" Steve asked. "What do you think now?"

"I think. I think I'm a fool. Looking back, what I had with Henry was never a good relationship. I was foolish and naive when I was with Henry, and I don't think I even knew what love felt like then." You said, turning to face him.

"Do you feel it now?" Bucky pressed you.

"I do, and I think I understand the difference between being in love and loving something. I love the trees. I love my woods. I loved my family." You began, biting your lip when you paused.

"And?" Sam asked, rolling over to face you. "What's the difference?"

"It's nothing important. Ignore me." You told him.

"Doll, we want to hear what you have to say. It's important to us." Bucky told you.

You took a deep breath as you sat on your knees and faced the three who sat up.

"I love the trees. I love my woods. I loved my family. But I think I'm in love. I think I'm in love with the three of you. I don't the same way about those things that I do about the three of you are. Everything I feel about each of you is so deep and raw, and it frightens me.

And it also frightens me that I'm feeling all these things for each of you. Because I don't think I could choose, and I know that's wrong. And I'm a sinner and a harlot for the thought of it but,-" You began to rant only to be cut off by Steve's finger on your lips.

"Breathe, Y/N." He chuckled lightly. "What you're talking about does not make you a sinner or a harlot."

"On the contrary, what you're proposing is something we would be more than okay with," Bucky told you. "The three of us are already in a committed relationship, and we've been talking about asking you to join us."

"What?" You whispered.

"Y/N, I know this is very different from the teachings of your time, but what your discussing is normal now. Men can be with men, women with women, and multiple people can be in a relationship." Sam explained to you.

"Were you kidding about me joining you?" You asked, looking between the three men who all smiled at you.

"Not at all," Sam said, and suddenly he was leaning towards you. Just as his lips were about to connect with yours, there was a loud whirring noise above your heads.

"What is that?" You yelled above the noise.

"I think it's our team!" Steve yelled back as a jet landed in the clearing. You watched apprehensively as a door opened, and two women and three men exited the quinjet.

"You're alive!" An older man cheered, swaggering forward.

"How did you find us?" Steve asked as the four of you stood to greet them, you sticking to Sam's side.

"Tony hacked into a lot of satellites." The redheaded woman said, embracing Bucky, then Steve stopping as she spotted you. "Who's your friend, boys?"

"This is Y/N." Sam introduced. "She's the only reason any of us are alive. Y/N, this is Natasha."

"It's very nice to meet you." You greeted, sticking your hand out to the woman.

"Thank you for keeping our friends alive," Natasha said, shaking your hand firmly.

"No trouble at all."

"With these three? I doubt it." One man snickered, receiving a smack to the arm from the other girl. "What do you three say? Are you ready to return to the real world?"

You shared a look with your boys at this.

"Your lady friend can come too if she wants." The first man offered.

"I appreciate the offer, but I can't leave the woods." You smiled weakly at him.

"Huh?" A blond man said, scrunching his eyebrows at you.

"She's bound to the land," Bucky explained.

"She's a Dryad. Her soul is connected with a specific tree here." Steve added. "She can't leave it."

"It's okay, boys. Go." You told them. "Others need you more than I do."

"But Y/N," Sam started. "We don't care about them, not as much as we care about you."

"Sam, you need to go. All of you. You save the world. It needs you more than you think. If you were to stay here and something were to happen that you could have fixed, I would feel guilty. And so would you. You have to go home."

"We'll come back and visit," Steve said after a minute. "All the time."

"Steve, you actually want to leave?" Bucky asked him, surprised.

"No, I don't want to, but we have to. We all know it." Steve reasoned with his partners.

"We'll visit every month. We'll be here so often you'll want us to leave." Sam promised you.

"I don't think I could ever get mad at you." You said, hugging each one of the men before pushing them towards their friends. "Go. Save the world."

"We'll be back. We promise." They said as they boarded the jet. You waved as the door closed and it began to make loud noises once more.

"It's not like I'll be going anywhere."

We can all see what you're doing, young one. Your tree said as you deposited another pile of blackberries in your home.

“Getting ready to make another berry spread? Yes.” You nodded.

You’re not fooling any of us, young one. You’re in pain, you just won’t admit it.

It had been four days since your boys had had to go back home. And you had been doing anything and everything you could to keep your mind off them.

“I miss them.” You sighed, sitting on the ground. “I miss them so much.”

It is understandable. You love them but they promised to return, that is something.

“It is.” You nodded, leaning your back on the wood. “I hope they come back soon.”

The sun had shifted another place in the sky when you heard the loud rumbling of a jet. At first you merely watched but as it began to land you rushed to your feet to greet them.

“I missed you!” You sighed, throwing yourself into Bucky’s arms

“We missed you too, doll.” Bucky said as Sam stole you into his arms.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N.” Sam said, squeezing you gently before passing you to Steve who also enveloped you in his arms.

“What are you all doing here? Not that I’m mad but it’s only been four days.” You said, pulling back from them.

“I know but it took us four days to come up with this and get in contact with these two.” Bucky said, gesturing to the two men behind you.

“Y/N, this is Loki and Thor. They’ve agreed to help you if you want them to.” Steve introduced you.

“How can you help me?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

“We cannot unbind you from your tree but we can move it.” Thor informed you. “My brother will preform a stasis charm and it will put both you and the tree into a state of sleep.”

“This will allow us to move you and your tree back to the compound. You can come with us. See the outside world again.” Sam told you.

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. This is real, if you want it, you can come with us.” Steve said.

“So what do you say, baby doll? Will you come home with us?”

“Yes!” You cheered, pulling Steve, who was the closest to you, down to your height and kissing him passionately. You quickly did the same to Sam and Bucky before hugging the both Thor and Loki. “Thank you! Thank you so much for this!”

“It is no hardship.” Thor assured you, patting your back gently.

“Come on, doll. Let’s get to your tree and get you two home.”

Non-reader POV

“Y/N! Are you out here?” Sam called as he, Steve and Bucky entered the wooded area of the compound.

The four of them had been together for three years and they were all incredibly happy together. Y/N had left a note for the boys in their shared room reading merely come find me.

“Oh doll!” Bucky called as they closed in on her tree. “Where are you?”

“Boo!” Y/N cheered, jumping from a branch onto Steve’s back. “I win.” She smiled at Sam and Bucky.

“You sure do, doll.” Bucky chuckled, taking Y/N down from Steve’s back. “What’s going on, doll?”

“Well, I’m not sure if you remembered, but it’s been three years since we met, give or take a week and I’ve decided we have to celebrate.” Y/N smiled. “So I made us a picnic and it’s up there.” She pointed to her treehouse.

“What did we do to deserve you?” Sam asked, pulling her closer to kiss her.

“Do you want my list?” She teased as they pulled apart. “I’m kidding! Now come on, the foods getting cold!”

The four stayed in Y/N’s tree for the rest of the night and well into the next day. The tree that was more responsible for their relationship than anyone admitted.

Remember all Taglists are open as are requests.

Taglist @rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @sunshinepower17 @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover @bbybarness @storiesbystarlight @buckybarnesplumwhore @bromieeeomieee @marvelmenarebeautiful @nikishadow @pauloonig @abyssiniapleasant @beautybyfire @officalmarvelbaby

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gt-adventures · 3 years

Text

Like A Good Neighbor (sfw GT story!)

A tale of the Mystic Woods

Featuring the “Evil” Giant Wizard Yonah HaEsh and Myran the Dwarf Witch and many other fun characters!

A story about bad first impressions and the start of new friendships! Lots of GT, and a cute little adventure at a magical farmer’s market!

Warnings: intense fearplay and mild harm involving an intimidation tactic with biting (no loss of limbs!). Yonah is a Fee Fi Fo Fum kind of “Evil” giant but it’s all an act. He’s just very convincing. And in this story he is still new to his Evil job. Also casual mentions of man-eating monsters/giants (no scenes).

For more detailed warnings go to THIS POST

---

“Did you hear?”

“Have you been told?”

“A new resident!”

“I haven’t checked it out myself! But Ms Zukkar told me-”

“A wizard!”

“Didn’t there used to be an old sorcerer there?”

“-new guy’s a witch!”

“So, hear about that new giant!”

“A giant wouldn’t fit in that tower! And wizards is all human!”

“A criminal, on the run they say”

“Maybe a magician? They like towers sometimes!”

“His Majesty wouldn’t hire a criminal!”

“-supposed to be evil?”

There were so many rumors being flung around that the dwarf witch Myran Gamadin decided to see for themselves and set out to investigate. Undoubtedly there was a new resident. The story was that he was a Mage, and a criminal, but also just expelled from The Academy of Wizardry. And a giant? That was strange, the old tower was much too small for a giant! Even if it was magic it was only 10ft taller than your average giant in the first place. However… they did hear about the trial of a giant recently… stuff that happened in the civilized court didn’t really concern those in the Woods.

“Why would you go to see a villain? You’re not evil!”

The World’s Largest™ Maine Coon cat trotted alongside the handsome young dwarf, looking more like an oddly fluffy pony than a cat.

“It’s important to know your neighbors! Even the evil ones!”

Siv flicked his tail up into his witch’s face.

“And he’s got to be just a young man! So young and the expectations on evil mages is so high! He will appreciate a friendly face!” Myran had done the math. If this Mage hadn’t even graduated from The Academy, he was at most 23. Unless he started his education late. But they doubted this.

“Why are we walking! You have your broom!” the cat complained.

“That’s for the tower, Siv. It’s one of those designed by assholes who think it’s clever to have the only entrance be the window at the top.”

“Hrfff,” said Siv.

“Do you think he will appreciate the house-warming gift? I didn’t really spend much time on it…”

“Fresh fish would be better.”

“Maybe if he were a cat. This is for a Mage.”

“Clippings of magical plants? Maybe for another witch. This is someone who was studying Wizardry.”

“Wizards use magical plants too!”

“Yeah, they buy them from witches!”

As the pair stepped out of the trees, they froze.

“I think he’ll like the gift,” Siv admitted as he And Myran stood in awe at the largest magical garden either of them had ever seen.

It wasn’t even finished yet! Plots of earth were freshly turned, and piles of wood, half built into beds that lay in patterns across the clearing. And massively spread apart. At least 3 meters between plots. And the finished ones. Well. They already had some amazing specimens. Even if they were just sprouting. Myran noticed the Twisted WyrmFern and harpy’s breath; delicate, but common magical plants that were being used to test out the soil. It was working great.

The garden did make Myran worry a bit.

Maybe this wasn’t a wizard at all! It could be a witch. And he could be very evil indeed. Even evil witches treated their gardens with the utmost care and attention.

But they had come this far. And the tower that looked over the garden was calling to them. Well. Not really. The green-black thorny vines screamed “STAY AWAY!” But when one had a flying broomstick, one didn’t need to heed such warnings.

Flipping their broom around like a baton, they sat side saddle and Siv hopped on the end, somehow managing to balance his prodigious fluff. They took off. And flew into the window.

“WOAAAHHH!”

It was like hitting an unexpected and large wave on a boogie board, but a magical one that flowed through the body! And Myran had never been to the ocean, so it made their brain swim.

The room, which from the outside looked normal, was anything but. The rumors of this being a giant were not just rumors.

This place was HUGE!

And yet, it was much too small.

Growing up, Myran had visited some giant villages with their family. They hadn’t been THAT much smaller then, but the houses and items in the village were definitely much larger. While giant mages certainly existed, they had their own traditions and made their own supplies.

This looked exactly like the workshop for a young wizard, with additions for the wizard being a giant. It was wild to see some of the common arcane tools at such an immense scale.

Flying over, Myran saw that the resident Mage had an ancient book under a magnifying glass, and had been translating it, with notes and commentary. Spell equations and diagrams were additionally copied in a dedicated smaller notebook.

While it was surely a fascinating read, they could tell at a glance the notes were somewhere in the middle of an involved spell, and they didn’t want to be the reason the Mage lost his place. The workbench had plenty of other diverting materials.

Siv had no interest in such things and curled up against the base of the magnifying glass. The sun hit the metal through the window, making it quite warm.

Myran put their broom down and explored the desk. There were several magical tombs! Rare ones! They flipped through and saw fresh handwritten notes tucked inside. Smart, this mage did not want to tarnish the original pages. There was also an open notebook and a few spell components laid out.

They stepped carefully back onto the notebook to get a better idea of what this wizard was up to. The notebook was written in giant, which Myran wasn’t fluent in but got the gist of. So this was indeed a giant wizard. Fascinating.

That’s what they were thinking until...

FEE FI FO FUM!

Myran nearly jumped out of their boots.

No longer fascinating. Very bad. Very dangerous! They’d heard stories that quoted these lines, classic, even amusing. However, hearing them bellowed by an actual giant nearly stopped their heart. These words were so loud and so immediately panic-inducing, especially when accompanied by thundering footsteps.

I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE-

There was a pause and maybe a stutter

DWARVEN KIND!

The trap door off center in the room burst open and a giant with a mane of black hair, a trimmed goatee, and a wizard’s hat, climbed out. He was smiling, snarling, showing off impressive fangs.

USELESS TO FLEE, USELESS TO FIGHT, FOR YOU WILL BE MY MEAL TONIGHT!

Eat them!? Oh No. Myran scrambled to their feet as the giant advanced.

Siv had gone catatonic, or nearly, and fled behind the mirror. But Myran just stood there. The next thing they knew they were in the giant's fist.

Never had Myran imagined themselves in this predicament. Witches, as far as they knew, were not prone to being eaten by giants! Giants ate thieves, slayers, adventurers! Though... giants were known to occasionally eat random people that happened to be especially rude to them as they went about their business.

Myran had not been rude! They just hadn’t had a chance to be polite! This giant had no business eating them.

Not that any of this was actually going through Myran’s mind. Oh no. Myran’s thoughts were preoccupied with panicking about their impending doom!

They tried to get themselves free of the giant’s grip but like the giant said, it was useless to fight. Then the giant LICKED THEM IN THE FACE. Ugh it was so gross!! They sputtered.

Yonah sighed and pulled the dwarf away from his face just a bit. “It is rather disappointing, dwarves don’t taste nearly as good as most other smallfolk, but I’m not complaining”

He briefly loosened his grip and Myran took their chance to get an arm free. Big mistake. The giant hissed and caught the arm between his fangs!

YEOWCH!

Their arm was free but the giant still held them. Myran was barely paying attention, for the screams of the giant rattling their brain and the giants grip had intensified making it hard to breath.

Something bit his other hand and he waved it violently. Whatever it was released and smacked into the wall that the desk was up against. And crumpled into a motionless pile. Curious and momentarily forgetting his foe he investigated.

A cat!? And still alive but unconscious. Why had a cat attacked him? Then he saw the abandoned broom next to his notebook. And his stomach twisted.

“You’re— not a thief!” Technically he was a villain to anyone, he wasn’t restricted to adventurers. He was still figuring out what kind of villain he wanted to be. But now was not really the time for self exploration.

“I’m a witch!” He heard them squeak.

“A witch? Invading the lair of a wizard? Are you stupid!” He poked at their face. They didn’t like that.

“Let me go!”

The witch was shaking and wheezing, glancing at him with wide fearful eyes. Yonah loosened his grip to allow them to breathe properly.

“If you’re a witch then what the fuck were you doing in my tower?” Yonah demanded.

The witch was still in shock but recovered enough to speak. “I’m… Myran! I wanted to introduce myself!”

“A likely story! Why would anyone want to introduce themselves to me?” Yonah wasn’t really in the mood for conversation, but figured he could use the practice at evil banter.

“You’re… new to the forest” they coughed.

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m your neighbor!” they said,

Yonah narrowed his eyes, “The forest is constantly moving, no such thing as neighbors.”

“I figured I’d try to be friendly!” they continued as if he hadn’t replied. “Everyone was talking about the new mage in the tower, but no one had any definitive stories.”

Another mistake. The giant snarled.

“You are a fool then! I don’t want any friends!” He hesitated briefly as he said it, not sure of the truth, but recovered fast. “But I don’t want you spreading rumors about my mercy either…” he picked them back up. Gripping them hard and getting their right arm between his teeth. He didn’t bite their arm off, but broke the skin with a fang and pinched their hand. They yelled.

“Stop! Stop! I won't tell! I won’t tell!”

He dropped them and they sat, crying, holding their bleeding arm and hand which was turning a plum purple. The cat instantly got up and ran to his witch. Alternating between purring and hissing.

“Good” he hissed steam in their face, scalding the skin red, as his eyes glowed a bright orange. “Now get the fuck out before I decide to actually eat youl!” He flicked the broom at them “And if you ever show your face around here again, I will”

Finally, they listened to him. They got onto the broom along with their cat and with a burst of magic kicked into the air and fled out the window. Yonah watched until they disappeared, then sat down. His hair hadn’t been smoking before but it was now. Additionally, his eyes still glowed.

His first visitor in months wasn't an adventurer and he’d traumatized them without a second thought! Stupid stupid! Stupid!

Maybe this was his destiny. For years he’d trained himself to be restrained. Keep his anger in check, Keep his half giant identity a secret and become a wizard. But that had all gone to shit when he’d been discovered not as just a half giant but as a half fire witch. Chased out of the academy but captured by the authorities of Orr.

Forced to sign a contract with King Ben to become his new pet monster! So why not be a monster!?

But he still wanted friends… his friends from the academy weren’t allowed to visit him. His tower of magic and wonder was so empty. He put his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands.

~chink~ his elbow brushed against something.

He looked down and saw a broken clay pot, the soup spilling out and a seedling now helpless and exposed on the desk.

Quickly yonah dipped his fingers into a pouch at his side and licked off the powdered fungus before saying a spell. With a puff of smoke he stood on his desk, a mere 8ft tall, and he knelt down.

With his more appropriately sized hands he gathered the soil and with a wave of his hand and another mutter the pieces of the pot shook and flew back into their original places. The pot was… functionally repaired. The proper repair spell required materials to fuse the pieces properly. So it wouldn’t hold water but it could hold soil.

As he scooped it back in a piece of paper fell from the loose soil. Curious he dug it back out of the pot and cleaned it off enough to read:

“Welcome to the Mystical Woodlands new neighbor! This seedling is from my own garden. A special cultivation of Frozen Thyme.”

The moment he read it he was instantly planning where this would go in his garden. But… this gift. Did he deserve it? He’d terrorized the one who brought it. He chased them away!

With a thump he sat on his desk, looking around him, trying to imagine what this experience had been from the witch’s perspective. Tried to imagine what it would be like to have a snarling giant loom over you and snatch you up, when all you wanted to do was say hello...

He couldn’t accept this gift but he couldn’t just let the seedling wither and die. It didn’t deserve that. And thus, his brain rationalized a way for him to keep the gift. So now what?

Yonah’s brain was too full of rage to do any proper work, so he decided to take it out on the garden, which was still in a state of construction. He’d already torn up old dead pieces of the overgrown mess left behind by the predecessor. Now he was digging spots for flower beds and what would hopefully be an orchard. There was even a designated spot for herbs.

The reason this was slow going was he refused to use magic. For the most part. Thankfully, being giant made digging and construction easier. Now that he had the thyme, he prioritized the herb beds. It was with a sour pride that he completed one as the sun started to go down.

A large wooden box that curved in a lovely arc close to the tower. The wood was specially imported from his The Blue Sky Mountain Giants Tribe in the Implausible Mountains, the smell of it reminding him of home. The frozen thyme seedling was given enough space to grow. He even gave it some friends that he knew would be compatible.

With his mind a little more at ease, he managed to get himself to sleep.

And awoke the next morning with an ache in his heart and a new plan in his brain.

For the first time since he arrived in this prison of a forest, he ventured beyond the boundaries of his clearing. Yonah knew he was allowed, a certain distance from his tower, to walk the forest. It had just seemed pointless. Not wanting to draw too much attention, he wore his gardening outfit: a pink plaid button up and light blue overalls. He had a straw hat that he recently wove to be a wizard hat, as well as his wizard staff. He couldn’t really leave that behind.

The trees in the forest were shorter than back home, but still very large. Thankfully he didn't have to duck so much to avoid branches. In his mind was a list of ingredients he needed to find. Foraging in the forest might seem like a fruitless endeavor, but when you have the keen nose of a giant, tracking down wildberries was a simple feat.

What a bounty! A huge patch of bramble with perfectly ripe berries. He didn’t need a giant’s amount and they would just get squashed if he tried to pick them at his normal size so once again he shrank down. He retrieved a basket from his hat and started to pick berries.

About ten minutes in, the bush began to shift! A section opened up and out ran a gnome with a garden spade. It smacked into his hand mid berry pick.

“Stop! Thief!”

SMACK SMACK!

Yonah was so startled he backed away and returned to his normal size, the basket of berries spilling over.

The gnome yelped. “Giant!” They dropped the spade. “Don’t eat me! Take berries! Don’t eat me or family!”

There was something satisfying about the gnome’s fear and Yonah grinned, “While you would make for a nice little snack,” he said, “I’m not in the mood for gnome today.”

The gnome shook and took up the spade again, pointing it at him as if that would help. From inside the bushes, Yonah heard rustling, and smelled more gnomes. This must cover their burrow.

“Put that away, or I might change my mind!” Yonah growled, showing his fangs. The gnome complied, tossing it aside.

“But you are also in luck. I am not interested in being a berry thief. I have more honor than that. If you would permit me to buy some of your berries, at a discount for me not making a meal of you and your family, I will leave you in peace”

The gnome gulped and nodded, “Am… sure we can make a deal.”

“Pick up the ones I already picked, will you?” Yonah ordered.

The gnome scrambled. “You will need more?”

Yonah nodded. The gnome whistled. And a troupe of younger gnomes carefully came out of the bramble.

“Kind giant has offered to buy some berries. Exchange for not eating us!”

The kids looked nervous and their fear didn’t spark the same kind of joy as the adults. But Yonah had a reputation to build! And he had to admit, it was still a bit fun.

He watched as the gnomes gathered berries until the basket was full and the adult gnome put it down in front of where Yonah had sat down. He picked it up and took off his hat, dropping it in and noticed the gnome’s eyes get wide. Storage space items were not uncommon, but storage hats were tools of professional mages, not common folk.

“That all?” the gnome asked.

Yonah stroked his beard thoughtfully, “Yes. I think so.” He reached into this hat. While he didn’t have a lot of money, Ben had supplied him with funds should he need them, and he had distributed the rings between his various pocket spaces. He got out a large wooden dowel upon which hung many metal rings. Small ones and large ones. With a pair of tweezers, yonah removed a few silver rings and one gold ring and put them into his palm, placing it up in front of the gnome.

Who did not take it.

“Do not insult me by refusing my payment,” Yonah insisted but the gnome did not move.

“More than we charge normally… You wanted discount: berries, a silver a pound!”

Yonah blinked. He still wasn’t good with smallfolk money. When purchasing as a giant, you purchased such large amounts it always cost at least a gold.

“Oh? Er-” he didn’t want to actually exploit these gnomes. “I'm not taking it back! Take the money Or I’ll eat you!” his voice faltered and the gnomes looked a little confused, and a little more relaxed.

“Leave us alone then, yes?” The gnome reached out a hand. Yonah nodded. The gnome finally took the money, giving each of the kids a silver ring. Any fear the kids had was gone as soon as they studied their rings and looked at Yonah with excitement. It was hard not to let the warmth in his heart at their expressions show on his own face.

“Actually!” Yonah announced as the gnomes started to back away into their burrow.

The adult stopped and looked nervous again. Yonah huffed. “I’m not going to eat you, I never was. I just have a question.”

The gnome ushered the kids away, not trusting Yonah, before turning back to the giant. “And if don’t have a good answer, you won’t eat… right?”

With a sigh Yonah shook his head, “No. I won't.”

“Then ask.”

Yonah took a breath, “I am... looking to get some ingredients. I… lashed out at someone recently and I very much regret it, and want to make some amends. I have giant ones back home but… giant sized ingredients do not taste as strong as small ones. Do you know where, or who, I might be able to look for?”

The gnome smiles, “Yes! Mystical Market. Sell our berries there. Open today, also gnome holiday.” They gave Yonah the instructions on how to find the market.

“Thank you- er…” Yonah put a hand to his chest and bowed.

“Kalle” said Kalle.

“Yonah,” said Yonah. The gnome bowed as well, “Don’t be flaunting riches, mysterious half giant. Marketeers take advantage”

Riches!? He did not have endless funds. He would have to be more careful with his spending.

“I am also looking for… Er... Shit!” he exclaimed and was glad the kids were no longer outside, “I don't know their name. Dwarf witch.”

Kalle considered, “Know them. Likes almond cookies. Sorry. Market easier find than people. That all?”

From their tone of voice, Yonah knew the gnome desperately wanted to get back to their family. It was a holiday after all. Yonah stood up and nodded, leaving without subjecting them to any more conversation.

Almond cookies? That changed things. He had only made almond cookies once! He needed a little more help. However, he did not backtrack to the tower. He knew that if he went back, he would lose motivation. Locating the market was his current task.

Unfortunately, it took some luck. According to the gnome, it was a special place that one happened to come across, just by wanting to be there. The more familiar you were with it, the better chance there was of that happening. Yonah really really wanted to be there. So he gathered his will and set off in a random direction.

After an hour of walking yonah felt a weird tingle all over his arms and legs. Like his hair was standing on end and all pointing in the same direction. Had he entered some magical field? No matter, he was fairly immune to passive magic.

Then he took another step and a jolt of magic electricity surged through his body, causing him to freeze up. Before he could collapse, he felt as if a giant hook had caught around his middle. There was no physical hook, but it still yanked him back, pulling in through the forest.

Eventually it stopped and finally Yonah fell over, breathing shallowly as his heart raced. He rolled onto his back and stared up into the trees.

“What’s the big idea!?” Someone kicked him in the side and he sat up. “You’re blocking the way!”

An elf!

Yonah frowned. “You’re so bold for someone I could crush with a finger!” To tease the elf, he poked them in the chest.

“YEOWCH!”

For the second time that day, Yonah got bitten. This time, it was the elf who sank their fangs into his finger, letting go before Yonah pulled away.

“Don’t get sassy with me! Messing with smallfolk isn’t allowed in the market, you'll be banned!”

Yonah looked around “The market?”

He had assumed it was the Mystical Market because it was in the Mystical Woodlands. But now he realized that the name was rather accurate. An entire marketplace incorporated into the forest itself. Stalls and restaurants built into the trees, with carts parked in between. The trees here were also… there was no other word for it: majestic. Larger and older and, compared to the forest he had been exploring before, more deliberate spacing. He couldn’t even see all of it. The forest stretched on for a while, and thus was obscured by the very trees that made up the shops.

There were even buildings in the branches so that ogres, trolls, and giants did not have to bend down to make transactions. He even spotted a few trolls. Amazing! Trolls (and ogres) were much more likely than giants to eat smallfolk. Giants mostly threatened unless the person in question did something really, really stupid.

And yet, there was a troll, large with brown fur and green spots, purchasing a roll of fabric from the elevated section of a gnome shop.

“Yes you idiot, the market! And my cart won't fit through any other path! Move your giant ass or I’ll get the guard to move it for you!”

His elation at having found the market was in conflict with his pride that was being so insulted by this little creature.

“Apologize for biting me, and I’ll consider it!”

The elf looked indignant, “You threatened to squash me! MAGEN!!” they yelled.

Thunderous footsteps were heard and Yonah turned as a proper, full blooded giant, made her way through the shoppers, somehow avoiding stepping on anyone. She was maybe 17, but full grown and taller than Yonah by at least ten feet. Her skin was a light greyish pink and her eyes were a dark red. She wore a lovely headpiece of woven flowers and vines to look like hair, which full giants do not have.

She knelt “This man bothering you?”

The elf nodded. Yonah threw his hands up, “Hey! I don’t mean any trouble!”

“He threatened to squash me!”

The giant glared at, Yonah who glared back.

“How large folk deal with smalls outside of the market is their own business,” she said. “But inside the market we do not even threaten to squash, or kick, or stomp, or eat!”

“I did not intend to and I did not know I was in the market! I have never been before!” Yonah stood up so that he was not at such an extreme height disadvantage. Magen was a rather short mountain giant, only 35ft tall.

She nodded, “I can believe that.” She stood up. “I would have remembered you for sure.” She sniffed and said in implausible Giant: “You are from the blue sky tribe?”

“Yes! I am.” he answered, also in Giant. “I just moved to the forest. I was looking for the market but… I must have… hit something magic. I sort of fell into here”.

The elf took the opportunity to weave their cart around the giants’ feet, disappearing into the market.

“Ah, the seller seems to no longer push this issue. My name is Magen.” she introduced, bowing.

“Yonah HaEsh,” Yonah answered in return.

“HaEsh! I know the name. Fire man who helped save the Implausible Mountains from the Society of Wizards!”

“That’s my dad,” Yonah said, a little embarrassed.

“Mom told me the story! How exciting!”

Yonah brushed himself off and glanced around, “So... What are the rules here, then?”

Magen shrugged, “Just don’t start fights, alright? All sales are final, so don't go making a fuss if you haggled wrong or think you got cheated unless you believe your items are defective. There are ways to deal with fraudulent goods, but we cannot risk collateral damage.”

“Does that happen often?” Yonah asked, “I only mean to buy food, I can tell if that’s fresh”

“Oh, you have a giant’s nose then. Good. It does not happen often. Makes my job easier. And I usually manage to break up confrontations before they get out of hand.”

Knowing he could likely sniff out the stalls he needed, Yonah asked if Magen could show him around and help him find all the items on his list. She happily agreed. He had to walk behind her as there wasn’t room for two giants to be side by side.

As she carefully led him, she took glances back and down Yonah who was getting a little nervous. It had been a while since he encountered other giants. He was watching his feet to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone, and he was stopping constantly to look into the shops and stalls and carts.

“What is it like, being half giant?” Magen asked, who somehow managed to walk without looking at her feet very often at all. Maybe Yonah was being too careful and people here knew to stay out of the way of large folk's feet… Still, he didn't want to take chances.

“Er… I have hair, I guess?” he said.

“I was wondering if that was natural or a wig.” Magen brushed the vines spilling from her head.

“But mostly, things were just a bit inconveniently large for me. I still managed.” Then he countered. “What’s it like being a guard in the market?”

“The shopkeepers pool money to have me stand around, mostly. Smallfolk behave when an angry giant is within earshot.” She grinned with all her fangs.

“I thought you said giants couldnt mess with smallfolk here?” Yonah inquired.

“You can’t. It’s my job to interfere,” Magen retorted. “I haven't hurt anyone… badly. I’ve only worked here for a year. But I know everyone and everyone knows me!”

They stopped at a stand selling nuts and Yonah purchased the almonds he needed. The seller seemed a bit disappointed that he bought so few.

“Shopping for someone small?” Magen asked.

“Er- yeah.” Yonah said. They both had to back between trees to let a trio of trolls go by. One was only 10 feet tall and barely came up to Yonah’s waist, but another was nearly 20 feet! They carried baskets and bags on their furry backs, and even had some tied to their tusks!

Before they continued, two elves leapt from the tree nearby and onto Yonah’s shoulders! He was about to brush them off when Magen stopped him.

“Don’t! They are just hitching rides!” At that, he spotted more elves on her head. “You need honey, yes? I know the best shop!”

He followed Magen around the market, which was much larger than he had realized. The elves had no qualms about leaping on and off him and other largefolk shoppers and eventually he ignored them. Magen even helped him avoid making a bad deal for oat flour, saying she couldn’t believe the nerve of the shopkeeper trying to take advantage of a new resident.

Before Yonah left, he wanted to properly thank Magen. “If there is anything I can do to show thanks. Perhaps er-” he looked around.

“You know, the juice stand behind that tree has new flavors I’ve wanted to try. How about you buy me a drink? You should get one too. It’s very refreshing!”

“They make them giant sized?” Yonah asked.

“Oh, they are made by ogres!” Magen replied, rounding the indicated tree.

Ogres, kin of trolls and even more dangerous due to their magical powers. Typically smaller than trolls, but that was not the way to tell them apart.

An entire family of ogres were operating a massive open storefront. Jugs hung from branches or were strapped to the trunks of trees and fruit swung in baskets. Behind the counter was an elaborate prep station operated by two large ogres. Around the entire display were platforms sticking out from the nearby trees. Smallfolk sat on stools enjoying drinks and food at an elevation that made it easy to be served by the ogres. Magen walked up to the counter, which was not at an ideal height for her but was easily manageable. She spoke to an ogre with straw colored fur, blue spots, and large horns.

“Edna! I’d like two passion fruit smoothies please! One giant sized and one…” She glanced back at Yonah. “Full Troll sized!” She stepped aside and pointed at Yonah. “He’s paying”

Edna nodded and passed on the order.

Yonah stepped forward. Bowing “Yonah HaEsh”. She bowed back, “Edna Baneclaw. That will be a gold bracelet for the giant and half for the full troll”

Yonah’s heart nearly stopped. A gold bracelet and a half !? He looked at Magen who flashed her fangs mischievously then back at Enda.

Edna smiled as well. “We don’t have enlarged passion fruit, not in high demand by largefolk.”

With another glare at Magen, Yonah fished into his hat. He didn’t have gold bracelets but he had rings. 10 silver to a gold. Rings to Rings. Bracelets to Bracelets… 10 gold rings to a silver bracelet… 10 silver bracelets to a gold ring. That’s 100 gold rings to a gold bracelet (he had really overpaid the gnomes for the berries... A holiday gift he supposed), but this was not money to spend on frivolous fruit drinks!

Too late, however. The drinks were ready, and he carefully removed golden rings from silver bracelets. 50 gold rings and 10 silver bracelets exchanged for two smoothies. They came in wooden cups with bamboo straws.

This better be fucking worth it. Yonah took a sip.

His eyes widened as the cool icy tart concoction hit his taste buds and he took a long drink. Finally, he looked at Magen and then Edna. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed. Magen grinned and sipped hers as well. “Yeah. Too bad we’re the last two to have some for at least a month!”

“What do you mean?”

“That took all the passion fruit we had,” Edna informed. “Won't get more for a while”

“Worth it! Suck it smallfolk!” Magen teased the people on the platforms, a few looked a bit annoyed, but most didn't seem to care. She didn't seem to care either.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Yonah. I hope to see you again. Oh, and by the way, you can return your mug to the ogres for a silver bracelet, even if you take it home today!”

Yonah glanced at his drink. “Oh! Thanks for letting me know. But where are you going?”

Magen sipped at her smoothie loudly before answering. “This was my break, silly, I need to go back on proper duty now, and you have all your things.” Magen held out her free hand and Yonah shook it, bidding her goodbye. It was getting late in the day now and he wanted to get to work on the almond cookies.

Wait… which way was back to the tower? How could he be so stupid wandering off like this!? His mom taught him better than that. Forest ranger rule number 1: DON’T GET LOST. ...okay, so that wasn’t really a rule. It was supposed to imply that you paid attention to where you were going so you could get back. This was not so easy in the Mystic Woods.

The moment he had walked far enough away from the market, he turned forward and then back, and it was already gone. He had nowhere to go but forward.

It was to his great surprise that only a minute later, he exited the dense trees and found himself in the clearing. The tower was on the opposite side. While he was elated to have made it back safely before dark, there was a distinct absence of any gladness to be home. This was not his home, after all. It was his prison.

Yonah HaEsh climbed up the tower and back into his prison. He took off his hat and sat down at his desk in the workshop, staring into the reflection on the large, ornate mirror that rested upon it.

To do this right, he needed help. Professional help. So he activated his mirror. Or at least… tried. He stared at his own reflection, then spoke. “Mirror Mirror on the desk,” he faltered, “Could you please connect me to Shoshana at the academy?”

The mirror snorted. “You think politeness will work after all this time? I don’t make exceptions. This is why your friends think you’ve forgotten about them! Put in the effort! Ask me properly or don't at all.”

“They’ve called me!!” Yonah insisted, but the mirror said nothing in response. Just like he would do when he got calls from his friends. Yonah growled and snorted back at the mirror, fogging it up. “Mirror Mirror, oh magical vanity, I wish to call Shoshana, at the wizard academy”

There was a whistle from the mirror. “Now that’s how you do it!” it praised. The fog cleared and for a brief moment, he saw his own face again before the reflective surface turned grey. Another moment and the face of his friend Shoshana emerged.

“Yonah!!!” she exclaimed. “You called! I cannot believe it!”

Yonah’s face turned a bit red. “I’ve… been distracted.”

Shoshana waved her hand, stopping any further excuses. “You’ve been through so much! I was worried! Since we graduated, you haven't called at all!”

/I never called before either... / Yonah thought. /It was always you.../ When Grand Master Sean reinstated him as a wizardling student, his friends would call regularly to work on homework and their theses, as he wasn’t allowed to actually attend the school in person. And while he attended the graduation…

That wasn’t a happy memory at all and he didn’t want to think about how he sat behind all the students in the amphitheater in magic chains looking more like a beast one of the adventuring tract students had wrangled for their final than a student.

“I need a recipe!” he said.

Shoshana raised her brows “That’s it!? First call in over a month, and it’s to get a recipe! You don’t want to catch up at all?!” Yonah’s eyes flickered and Shoshana backed off. “Alright, I can see you’re not in the mood. But please, we’re all missing you so much. We’d assumed you embraced the evil hermit wizard life.”

“I… haven’t meant to. But it’s surprisingly easy,” he admitted, grinning awkwardly. “I’d rather not go full hermit, of course.”

“Well, then dont go a month without calling your friends!” Shoshana chided. “Or make some new friends! The forest is full of interesting people, right?”

Yonah looked away, but his eyes were probably glowing orange now.

“This… is for that.”

“Oh!” Shoshana exclaimed, “I should have figured! Of course, I will give you whatever recipe you’d like.”

Yonah got out his ingredients to show Shoshana and explained what he wanted to bake. She nodded and made some suggestions for ingredients and spices to really make these cookies great. He did not have all the supplies she suggested, which led to some back-and-forth as Shoshana pointed out some substitutions for what Yonah bought or already had in his tower.

“Got that all down?” she asked, as she watched Yonah scribble out the final lines to the recipe.

“Yes!” Yonah exhaled in relief. “Thank you so much, Shosh!”

“Next time, we will catch up properly, but I had fun designing this recipe!” Shoshana chirped. “What a challenge. I wish you had called first, before just buying random ingredients.”

“I was already in the forest, Shosh.”

“I know, I know.” Shoshana blew Yonah a kiss and the mirror flickered back to his reflection.

It was time to bake! Which he did after shrinking down.

By the time he was done baking his jam print almond cookies, it was past midnight. He needed sleep and didn't think finding the witch at night was a particularly wise idea, especially since he was getting tired. That meant he was extra likely to be grumpy and irritable. So he placed the cookies in a special cooling rack to keep them magically fresh, then went to bed.

It was right after breakfast that Yonah HaEsh left the tower and, for the second time, entered the forest.

Once again, he had no direction, not that one could in the Mystic Woods. It wasn't even possible to have a map unless it was incredibly magical. Still, he was determined and willing to wander the forest for days if he must! But he’d do so at his full size, which would allow him to cover more ground.

That’s… That’s a witch’s hut! He hoped it was the correct one. It was more of a mound than a hut, with one side covered in rocks and moss and the other a more sheer side with windows, plus a flatter side with a door.

As he approached, a garden came into view and he heard a yelp before watching a small figure dart into the hut and close the curtains. The door opened briefly and a hand hung a sign that read “NO SOLICITORS”

That was the evil giant! Why was he here!? Why did the forest let him find the hut!? Was he here to eat them?! To finish the job!? Could they take on a giant fire witch?! Myran was a damn skilled witch, and at least 15 years the giant’s senior by their estimate, but they were quaking in their boots.

A knock sounded at their door. It didn’t sound forceful enough to be a giant. Siv was in front of them, hissing at the door. Thinking it better to be safe, they peeked out the window, then ran to open the door. Just a crack.

Red faced and holding a basket was… the giant. Only he wasn’t giant. Not exactly. He now stood at about twice Myran’s height. A little less actually. Right. Wizard. Giant wizard.

“May I come in?”

“Depends… what’s in the basket?” They narrowed their eyes. “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

The wizard’s face got redder as he removed the cover. They opened the door and stood aside. They took the basket with their right hand… Yonah hesitated. Their arm had a massive scar from shoulder to elbow, but the hand was unbroken. The Dwarf noticed and gave him a hard look as he crouched low to get through the dwarf sized door, Siv still hissing at him in warning.

Myran put the basket on the kitchen table and motioned to the couch. “Please, sit.” Yonah did. The couch was small for him but it took his weight. “I’m going to be honest.” Myran leaned against the kitchen table and crossed their arms. “This is quite the unexpected visit.”

They leaned against the kitchen table and crossed their arms.

“Oh?” Yonah said, of course it made sense, he threatened them, bitten them, chased them out, why would he then try to find them again.

“You bit me! You broke my hand! And You said if you saw me again you would eat me!”

/Ohhhh/

Yonah’s breath caught before managing to say “I did… didn’t I.” He looked down at his feet.

They sighed.

“Yep. Though eating me at your current size would be an impressive feat. So- What the fuck are you doing here? Besides bringing me cookies to fatten me up.”

“I’m not-!” He looked back up to defend himself and saw their cheeky grin. “I didn’t come here to eat you…” they raised an eyebrow in sarcastic disbelief.

“I want to apologize. For chasing you away like that. I was so angry. I still am, though mostly at myself. I shouldn't have hurt you, you weren't an adventurer. It wasn’t right.” He was almost crying. Dammit, he’d gone nearly a month without crying!

The witch raised both eyebrows now, genuinely curious as to the workings of this monster’s thoughts. “Youre sorry for chasing me away!? You threatened to eat me!”

“It’s my job! It’s my job to terrorize people, Especially those who enter my tower unannounced. It’s part of my job! And… and I like it!” He startled himself with that statement. He liked his job? He didn’t even want this job!! He was forcefully employed by the King under threat of more conventional imprisonment! Being evil had never been his plan and he didn’t want that. Didn’t he?

The witch didn’t look completely satisfied with this answer. But they didn’t get to inquire further as Yonah’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Er- your hand…”

Myran smiled “It was rather mangled by your jaws yesterday. Luckily, I am a very good healer, and well-known in this forest. If you had killed me, you would have had a lot of angry forest residents after your head.” Myran began preparing a pot of tea as Yonah Processed that statement. “You’re a lucky giant aren’t you?”

“What?” Yonah voiced. “For not killing you and putting a target on my back?”

“Yes, exactly. And that was curious. It is rare that evil giants are merciful.”

Yonah looked away, “I’ve only been evil for a few months. I… you’re the third person I've faced as my er… villainous self. And I haven’t… I dont plan on... eating anyone.”

That surprised Myran. “I guess I do not know the frequency that giants normally encounter adventurers…”

“You said it yourself, Evil Giants eat people…” Yonah pointed out, “But it comes with a cost… I am worried… even if I don't... It’s only a matter of time before slayers come after me.”

“Most evil giants kill their victims. Right?” they asked more directly.

Yonah shrugged “I met another one once. Said it depended on his mood.”

“Fascinating… though if you keep up your merciful streak, perhaps you are less likely to attract slayers?”

“Perhaps…” Yonah had not considered that. He just felt he wasn’t ready to kill anyone yet, but maybe there were other perks than just his own conscience to continue to let his victims go.

“Cracked some sort of code then? Getting to be a villain without attracting too much attention?” Then they added “Not that this would stop all slayers. I expect you would kill a slayer?”

Yonah wasn’t really listening to Myran any longer. There were other things on his mind. Things he had spent the entire walk over here mulling over, and he had to voice them sooner rather than later.

As tears welled in his eyes he couldn’t look at Myran any longer. He closed his eyes and turned his face away.

“I know I said I didn’t want any friends. But I do! I need them. And I know I can’t be your friend. You came to me and I fucked it up. But I beseech you to not tell everyone else in the forest to avoid me. I already went to the mystical market and-“

“You… how did you find out that I liked almonds!”

Yonah looked up. They weren’t looking at him but reaching into the basket for another cookie. They munched on it thoughtfully, not a crumb falling into their beard. The tea was ready and Myran poured it with magic, leaving their hands free to hold more cookies. They walked over to Yonah, the tea cups floating with. He took the larger one out of mid air. It was very hot! And he drank. It was… It tasted like tea he’d had at home. His village had alway gotten various teas from the dwarves. New tears came to his eyes.

“You alright?” Myran asked, offering a handkerchief. “You’re a very emotional evil giant.”

Yonah took it and dried his eyes. “The tea is… really good.” That wasn’t the real reason but right now he couldn’t process all of his emotions.

“It’s my grandma’s blend,” Myran said. “I’ve tried to replicate it using my garden, but you just can’t replicate those tunnel grown fungi.”

They dipped one of the cookies into the tea. From their expression, it wasn’t really a mistake but likely didn’t improve the experience. Still they munched thoughtfully.

“I’ll be your friend.”

Yonah’s jaw nearly hit the floor and he almost dropped his tea. It was a few seconds before he managed to pick his jaw back up. Were they serious? They walked over to him, placing their much smaller hand over one of his. Then they smiled most disarmingly.

“Just don’t eat me!”

Yonah smiled.

“I think I can manage that”

[FIN]

——

(You can imagine that Yonah got to hug Myran before he left, probably a little too tight but dwarves are tough!)

[THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REBLOG/GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I CRAVE IT!]

Big thanks to my editors @j0hnnymouse and @vixen525

#gianttiny #g/t writing #g/t fearplay #g/t fluff #g/t fiction #g/t #g/t angst #giant/tiny

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

The Fall Tale (S.R.)

(Of Fallen Leaves and Falling Dames)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader Word Count: 3400

Summary:

You just wanted to take advantage of the joy that the fall provides. You just wanted to be silly for a bit, let go of the adulting and feel as carefree as a kid again.

It gets enormously out of hand, but you find yourself unable to complain at the turn of events.

Prompt: one involving the fall, colourful leaves and a meet-cute (full prompt at the end of the fic as to not spoil the plot)

Warnings: swearing and tooth-rotting fluff (no really, it’s dripping sweetness as a damn maple sirup)… kids involved, not reader’s

A/N: For wonderlandmind4 challenge. Thanks for letting me participate in such awesome challenge! I adore this prompt! I hope you’ll get many sweet followers and that you’ll enjoy the submitted fics!

A/N 2: the lovely fall devider by firefly-graphics

The air was crisp, almost biting against our skin, but for the first time in a while, you didn’t mind one bit – even if your outfit was clueing otherwise.

The last October week was an unpleasant thing for multiple reasons, but the weather really was the cherry on top of your bittersweet cake; saying that was you being dramatic as hell, the past few days had only required of you to run many many adult errands, but still.

The gloomy morning fog that often lingered, overstaying its welcome, the cold wind and the absence of sun was beginning to take its toll on you, painfully reminding that the ‘sweater weather’, better-known to you as the ‘witch-bitch autumn time’, had long chased Indian summer away. You hated this kind of weather.

Colourful leaves, sun seeping through the clouds, playing with the vivid yellow, orange, red and remaining green in the treetops? God bless.

The kind of weather which this week graced you with, more or less requiring to keep your mouth covered with a scarf when going out? No, nope sire, shove it.

Today, however, a small miracle occurred; despite the yucky morning drizzle and downright icy wind, sunrays found their way through the clouds, illuminating you path as you had decided to reward yourself for the boring adulting-filled morning you pushed through.

The park was mostly quiet, the majority of New York City citizens clearly discouraged by the slick traps of mud and fallen leaves and the reluctant rise of temperature. Walking in the alley lined with maples and oaks felt like a dream, the uneasy feeling, tied to the many responsibilities to your person, that had been clutching at your gut subdued, the weight falling from your shoulders and allowing you to breathe in. Smile even grazed your lips as you spotted a dark-skinned man practically serving like a jungle gym to two kids, whose laughter was brought to you by the wind.

God, you wished to be a kid just for a moment again! (And the opportunity to climb that broad-shouldered man was only a part of the reason.)

You snickered under your breath, your gaze moving on—and falling onto a pile of fallen and neatly raked leaves by an old oak roughly three hundred feet from you.

Your smile widened. Someone from above was clearly sending you a signal and a wordless approval of your need for some child-like behaviour – because damn, was there anything more childish that wanting jump right into those leaves?

Your mind helpfully supplied you with an image of kids stomping into a puddle and jumping in that muddy mess and you came to conclusion that there were worse things you could do. Laundry day was ahead anyway.

With one goal ahead, chanting that you deserved a break from adulting, you quickened your pace and approached the pile with determination. You spun around, chuckling to yourself and trying hard not to think about the poor person who had worked on raking the leaves so hard, you spread your arms wide, closed your eyes in bliss and let yourself fall to the soft natural bedding.

The collision with something hard came sooner than expected, causing a startled yelp erupt from your throat – mostly because the mass your body met with moved and grunted.

You quickly spun away, literally falling on your ass when you tried to stand up again. A head peeked out from the pile of colourful leaves, followed by impossibly large frame of a man sitting up.

You sat there with our mouth open in mute awe, heart pounding in your chest, head spinning from both the shock and abrupt movements.

Still, you had enough wits to notice two things.

One, the man was gorgeous. Blond hair slightly ruffled by the wind and his previous hideout, startlingly bright blue eyes framed by unfairly thick and long eyelashes, plush lips, sharp jaw—and gosh, you didn’t think you had even seen shoulders so broad and arms begging to be wrapped in so prominently.

Two, the man, obviously, had leaves in his hair, a tiny smidge of mud on his cheek, his clothes, while rather fine and as if stolen from a sports catalogue, damp and little dirty; and he was frowning at you. And kinda gaping. Probably hurting too – the impact for you had been unpleasant, but it must have seriously hurt him.

And yet, instead of apologizing to him for this absurd situation, a whole different sentence left your lips as you were still seated on your ass on the wet ground, palms supporting you on your sides.

“What the hell are you doing here, hiding in a pile of leaves?!” you shrieked, the high-pitched sound as embarrassing as your reaction. You gulped when the real-life Adonis in front of you grimaced, cleaning himself of some of the leaves stuck in his hair. Your fingers might have twitched in urge to help him, but your mind went entirely elsewhere, another thing occurring to you. “Could you even breathe in there?!”

Clearly, he could, since he was perfectly fine.

Bravo, you genius, why couldn’t you figure that out before asking such a stupid question?

He stared at you for another moment too long, apparently as taken aback by the situation at hand as you were… and then he chuckled, his hand scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Eh, yeah, I could. And I was… uhm-“ he beckoned to the trio you had noticed earlier, the man who was probably babysitting for a friend, and you let out a silent oh as a victorious yell carried through the park “-playing hide and seek. Are you okay?”

The question was so softly spoken, a timid smile creeping to his lips and your heart melted an instant, laughter bubbling in your chest at the ridiculous predicament you found yourself in.

Talk about an embarrassing meet-cute with the most beautiful (yes, beautiful) man you could ever imagine. What else could you do but laugh… and perhaps fall in love a bit? You had jumped at him and he was asking if you were okay.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you assured him, returning the smile, not any less sheepish. His eyes lit up even more and your heart, finally slowing down a bit, started racing again. You must have hit your head and now you were making this guy up, right? There was no way a man like this actually walked the Earth. “Are you though?”

One corner of his lips rose higher as he climbed to his feet, dusting off his palms as much as he could, and gentlemanly offered you a hand to help you stand up. You could swoon at that moment.

“Worse things happened to me than having a pretty woman land on me.”

Uhh, a smooth talker when he wanted to be. Would you look at that.

You accepted his hand just for the sheer indulgence and to make sure you actually hadn’t imagined him, because this--- this specimen was talking to you and flirting with you. Doubting his existence was only natural.

His calloused palm tugged you up gently with barely any effort, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours and you had to force yourself to let go.

“Well, I’m glad. And uhm… I’m sorry. I really didn’t expect to--eh, you know,” you gestured awkwardly between him and the messed-up pile in a place of an explanation. He only shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours, a spark of laughter in them. “Question still stands though. Why would you hide here of all places? Kids love jumping into these.”

His eyebrows shot up and he chuckled, looking you up from head to toe. You felt a rush of blood warming your cheeks when you realized what a dishevelled picture you must have made and you self-consciously dusted off your clothes as if it had any effect.

“And yet it was you who jumped. Interesting,” he mused in a teasing manner, with no malice in his voice as he called you out on your child-like antics.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, grinning self-depreciatingly. You had totally walked into that one.

“I-uhm… I have a young soul…?”

The god amongst men huffed a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling and fuck, you really were falling hard by the second. He was—no words existed in English language to describe what a looker and charmer he was. The infamous butterflies flipped their wings wildly in your stomach, the slight embarrassment, while lingering, you barely acknowledged when the man laughed at your joke.

A sudden movement to your right startled you along with a heavy thud of feet and you yelped for the second time that afternoon, instinctively jumping away; your feet slipped on the wet ground and you prepared yourself for an unwanted meeting with the ground-

Only to land in Steve’s arms, curling around you protectively, sending your heart plummeting on the park floor – both in fright and dizziness, because shit he was warm and strong and over the natural scent of the park that lingered on his clothes, you got a whiff of his cologne and detergent and whatever and gosh, he smelled so good too. And his face was now in dangerous proximity and his beaty was even more startling up close and you could die a happy woman right here.

You found yourself so intoxicated that it took you a while to follow his gaze to the source of your current predicament; another man, just as ridiculously fit (what the hell was happening today, first the kid guy, then the charming blondie and now this brunet), with a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“Is all good, dollface. Steve here is an old soul, you’ll make a perfect match,” the man hummed as a thumping of several pair of feet shook the ground, announcing the incoming trio, still too far to overhear your absurd conversation.

The cheekiness of the newcomer and the fact he had just dropped from a freakin’ tree only to land right next to you would be annoying if he hadn’t just called you a good match to Steve and hadn’t finally reveal your handsome stranger’s name.

Steve.

He kinda looked like a Steve.

Steve sighed, sounding bone-tired because of his friend’s attitude. “Dammit, Bucky. Give the dame here a heart-attack, why don’t you?”

Dame?

“Got her in your arms, didn’t it?” Bucky retorted nonchalantly and as if in slow motion, Steve glanced down at you as he held you securely to his frame, appearing to realize your proximity for the first time. He swiftly helped you to find your footing for the second time that day and let go, causing you miss his warmth in an instant. “Hey there. This was so funny to watch that I forgive you for compromising our positions.”

Your cheeks felt like on fire again.

Sadly, you didn’t get a chance to come up a snarky remark as the ‘seekers’ finally reached you with booming laughter.

“We found you, Uncle Steve! And Uncle Bucky! Do we get the hot chocolate?” the girl around eight years old asked excitedly as she grabbed Steve’s arm and tugged on it as if she already wanted him to lead the way towards what you assumed was the promised sweet treat.

Truth to be told, your heart might have skipped a beat in relief upon learning that your new flirty buddy wasn’t the father. Also, you almost swooned, again, when he scooped the girl to his arms – correction, arm – and booped the girl’s nose, making her giggle. The image pulled at your heartstrings and you didn’t even bother analysing the fact that you felt such intense emotions after barely meeting the guy.

“Of course we do, Lila! They promised!” the boy, of whom you guessed was maybe two years younger, stated as if it was clear as day. Then, he swiftly took advantage of his new tree to climb – Bucky.

The man whom you seen earlier with them huffed.

“Not sure if it’s a good idea to feed them more sugar,” he questioned, sceptical. Then he turned to you, flashing you a smile that seemed kind despite his next words. “Hi. Thanks for your tremendous help. You sentenced us to an afternoon with sugar-fuelled monsters.”

Your eyebrows rose at such accusation, challenging, as you were not about to take the blame.

“Pretty sure you did that when you agreed to babysit.”

“Okay, that’s a fair point, I suppose.”

“It is,” you sassed him back.

Despite that, you couldn’t but make an offer. Not because you felt too guilty for ‘compromising Steve’s position’ – but because you couldn’t pass at the potential opportunity to spend more time with th--- yeah, mainly with Steve, who were you kidding. Though they all seemed like a funny bunch.

Yet, you eyed Steve as you worried your teeth over your lower lip. “However, since you’ve been made because of me, I might treat you guys a coffee? In a café that won’t kick us out despite the state of our clothes?”

Steve’s eyes met yours and even if he was beat to speaking by Lila, you could tell that he liked the proposition. Whether it was because of an intense coffee craving or liking the idea of not parting ways with you yet (he had been flirting!), you couldn’t tell.

You hoped for the latter.

“Yes! The nice lady will buy coffee for you grown-ups and we get a hot chocolate! Yay!”

All the grown-ups couldn’t but smile at the girl’s enthusiasm.

“Well, the nice lady needs to know that she doesn’t have to do that. But I could use some caffeine,” Steve said politely, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “But we all know we shouldn’t let a stranger walk us to god-knows-where, don’t we? No matter how pretty they are. Does the nice lady have a name?”

Ah, the smooth talked was back. And if Bucky’s and the other man’s smirks were anything to go by (or the look they exchanged for that matter), they were both amused and impressed by his flirting skills.

You introduced yourself then, shaking hands with Lila and her brother Cooper’s hand, followed by Bucky’s (with some difficultees as he was a bit occupied with the climbing Cooper) and then Sam’s. Steve shifted Lila from one arm to the other, just like that-- Jesus he was strong, and shook your hand as well, his touch lingering a little.

You certainly didn’t complain.

“It’s settled then. Lead the way,” Sam beckoned to you, before he stared down the two youngsters. “And you, down, you were full of energy a minute ago, you can walk just fine without these two carrying you.”

“Yes, Uncle Sam,” sounded unison from the kids, and you snicked, a picture of a leaflet asking men to join the army flickering in front of your eyes at the addressing.

Looking back, it should have dawn to you right then. Hell, you even considered that they might have all been a part of some law enforcement, or maybe firefighters, judging by their built, but the obvious didn’t occur to you; not until you reached the café and got questioned by your friend about when you had adopted three Avengers and two kids.

You stopped dead in your tracks upon Jill’s exclamation, your whole body freezing – including your brain.

Steve.

Bucky.

Sam.

Their ridiculously ripped bodies. Steve being an old soul, for Christ’s sake!

Oh no.

The air was tense for several seconds as you reconciled with the fact that you had had found yourself landing on Captain America twice today and that you had met the Falcon and the Winter Soldier while they were babysitting of all things.

“Pretty sure that now we’ve been made,” Sam uttered, causing you break from your trance. To your own surprise, a half-insane chuckle erupted from our throat, the sound being just another reason to hide your face in your palms, wishing for the floor to swallow you. The cheek you showed to damn superheroes! “Well, it was fun while it lasted and she treated you like the dorks you are.”

Huh?

“Look who’s talking, birdbrain,” Bucky huffed and based on the audio, since you sort of eliminated your visual input by hiding behind your hands, it sounded as if Bucky pulled Sam and the kids away, leaving you and Steve alone by the counter with a swift ‘you know our orders, punk’ thrown over his shoulder.

When Steve didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity and a half, you spread your fingers so you could peek at him between them; you found him smiling at you patiently, but the twinkle from his eye, the one you had already learned to adore, was gone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect, or-“

Steve – Captain America – shook his head, slowly reaching out to gently grasp your forearms to make you lose the barrier created from your hands. The movement was very slow and easy to spot so you could stop him if you wanted; because of course, he would respect your boundaries, he was a gentleman from the past century. You let him; you gave up to the pressure, but fixed our gaze on the floor, unable to face him fully as he released your arms.

“Hey. No worries. It was actually really nice to be just a weird guy who got jumped on, because he was hiding in a pile of raked leaves,” he admitted kindly and that had you raise your eyes to his again, finding nothing but honesty in his brilliant irises. “It was really nice to think I might have had a shot with a gal like you even being just that guy.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, your breath hitching in hope.

Wait, hold on a second, did that mean—but- certainly you weren’t that lucky, you-

“Uhm… it- it was?” you stuttered, mesmerized by the comeback of the twinkle to his eyes as he smiled wider and nodded. Your pulse skyrocketed, your head spinning for a bit because of what he was implying. He really liked you? “Oh. That’s… he did have a shot for sure. He—uhm, he was pretty charming.”

A shot? Like thousand of them! A million!

You wouldn’t even dare to dream about a guy like Steve being interested in you – he was so out of your league. Showing as much as a mild interest and you’d jump after the chance despite questioning the reality of it all – you kinda wanted to pinch yourself.

If he wanted to give you two a try and see you again… gee, who were you to protest. Already you had been falling for his gorgeous smile and stupidly handsome face… and body. And flirting. And-

He searched your face for a short moment and only then it dawned to you that with the words you used, it might have sounded as if he didn’t have that shot anymore. But he must have understood what you meant from what he read in your expression, because he took a tiny step closer to you.

All of sudden, you found it incredibly hard to breathe, as if your racing heart and spinning head wasn’t dangerous enough; you were almost afraid to breathe in, because if you got another whiff of him, you might jump him right here and now.

Focus.

Steve’s smile was bright as were his eyes, his voice only carrying a trace of self-consciousness as he spoke. “And now? Do I still have it?”

With sudden surge of confidence, your fingers brushed his hand as you glanced at him from under your eyelashes; his smile when you squeezed his hand could power a good part of Manhattan.

“Yeah. I think I’d like him to take me out for coffee or something…” Your gaze flickered to the boot padded with towels, which you got from the friendly owner in order to not let the hide-and-seekers dirty the cushions, and you couldn’t but grin cheekily. “Preferably without four children to babysit.”

Steve reciprocated the squeeze of your hand first and then burst out laughing when you finished, watching you as if you were the greatest and funniest thing that ever happened to him in like a month – which, as far as the humour went, it might have been.

“You got yourself a deal.” And as if you weren’t already halfway in love with him, he raised your still connected hands and landed a brief kiss on the back of yours. “I can’t wait.”

The Winter Tale - sequel

S.R. masterlist

Thank you for reading!

Our fall weather does suck momentarily, so I hope your doesn’t and if it does that this warmed you up a bit.

Full prompt: Jumping into a pile of colourful leaves. Only to accidentally land on a body hiding in the leaves as a stake out or game and now their position is compromised (Fall)

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