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#weathered wood hood
mrstheme6 · 10 months
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Contemporary Kitchen in Denver With a farmhouse sink, flat-panel cabinets, gray cabinets, quartz countertops, gray backsplash, porcelain backsplash, stainless steel appliances, white countertops, and an island, this large, modern l-shaped kitchen has a laminate floor and a gray floor.
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ivyblossom · 3 months
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I Have Become a Crow Friend.
It started because I commute to work on an e-scooter, and a couple of crows had started to fly along side me. I mean close, maybe two feet from from my face. I know this isn't unusual behaviour for a crow, but for me it's magical. I am flying with crows! I presume they're gliding in my wake and it's fun for them, because they started to do it every morning. I wanted them to know that I admire them and want good things for them, so I started to travel with a bag of unsalted, unshelled peanuts. When I got to the end of the road where they glide with me, I stop and leave some peanuts on the grass for them, and then I continue on my journey.
Well, they certainly know who I am now, and so does their extended family. They get my attention in a number of ways. Sometimes they will fly directly in front of my scooter, and I fear I'm going to hit them, but I don't, because they know what they're doing. They will fly in my eye line and land in a place where I can't miss them. There is one set of cousins down the road who thought shouting at me and waiting for me to come out of a building would be a good idea, but I did not reward that, and it hasn't happened since. They don't normally shout at me, they just flirt with me by flying with me, being beautiful in my presence, and giving me the eye. Then I give them treats.
One day I couldn't ride my e-scooter because of the weather so I walked my route. I traded my usual blue coat for a warmer red one with the hood up, and no orange helmet. I figured my crow friends would ignore me, since I am no longer a wheeled creature with blue feathers and an orange head. But no: they know who I am. They know the scooter is a vehicle that I ride, they know the coat and the helmet are things I'm wearing. My crow friends recognize my face. I know this totally normal behaviour for crows, but I am honoured by it nonetheless.
I always talk them. I greet them. I warn them about weather that's coming. I ask them how they're doing. My ultimate goal is to have them talk back to me, which I know they are fully capable of doing. And one day maybe the crows in this area will spot people walking alone in the woods and will shout out, "Hello, friend!" and freak them the fuck out. That's the kind of legacy I'm after. My quest continues.
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ohimsummer · 5 months
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IT'S TOO COLD ft. BULLY! SUGURU
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— minors dni, anal, closet sex, bully! suguru x fem! reader, dubcon, fingering (anal), creampie, fem! reader, begging, pet names (puppy, darling), ending is a little rushed :'DD
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An icy breeze creeps through the cracks of your clothes, any inch of fabric careless enough not to shield you from cool winds. Your body lay way more unprotected than you were comfortable with, considering you were dressed for a brisk 70 degrees and not 15 degrees colder.
It’s appalling how the forecast could possibly be this inaccurate, but you’ve braved the weather so far, having no time to stop by your room for a jacket. Sure, the wind sent your little sundress fluttering and raised goosebumps on any bare patch of skin, but at least you weren’t late for any classes?
“You’re gonna catch a cold like that.”
At the sound of his voice, your feet fix themselves to the ground. You hadn’t even spotted him, too caught up in rushing to your final lecture and the comforting thought of a nice, warm nap after a day of classes.
You turn to watch Geto approach, clad in a dark sweater beneath a darker hooded coat, one he unzips as he draws nearer. He holds the garment out for you to take, amused at the doubt clouded over your expression.
“Come on, darling, you want my arm to get tired?,” he rushes you.
You cross arms over your chest, partially for warmth, partially in defiance, and unintentionally smushing your breasts up perfectly for Geto to get an eyeful, mumbling. “I don’t need your jacket.”
He raises a brow, eyes lingering on your shivering legs for less than innocent reasons, before flashing you his signature, calming grin. “Sure you don’t. Put it on, anyway.”
The subsequent pout of your bottom lip reminds him of Gojo. “But I d-“
“Now.” And you recognize the menacing look in his eyes, a forewarning to obey or else.
Without a word, you snatch the oversized jacket from him, slotting your arms through the spacious sleeves, and zipping it up to your chin. The length of it brushes your knees, and admittedly, you’re grateful for the extra coverage.
“There.,” as the collar of the jacket engulfs the lower half of your face. “Happy now?”
Geto pads even closer, chilly hands grazing your cheeks and ears to send a shiver up your spine, and pulls the hood over your head. He tugs at the strings to tighten it a little, brushing off complaints about your hair to make sure it fits snug.
“Perfect.,” he hums and pats the top of your head. “Though…”
A curious look plasters itself on your face as Geto tilts his head, gaze traveling from your head to toe, stopping again on the rest of your barren legs, and settling on your eyes. ‘C’mon’ he mutters with a hand around your wrist, essentially dragging you in the opposite direction.
“G-Geto!,” you quiet your protests to avoid judgmental stares. “I was g-, let go of me, I was going to class!”
He doesn’t break his gait, pulling you behind him to who-knows-where, your objections flowing straight over his head with the accompanying frigid gusts. Sounds of feet scuffing the ground as you fight against Geto’s steady strides, though to no avail as he slips you both into the campus’s art building. The halls are vacant, slightly less cold than outside, no noise except the loudening sound of drums and instruments as he guides you down a hall destined for trumpet players and the like.
You two arrive at an ordinary, brown door, a storage closet. Geto manhandles the knob, heaving it open with his shoulder against the wood, and gestures you inside. Glancing left and right and seeing no witnesses, you tiptoe inside, nerves worsening as Geto shuts the door behind you.
You mutter, “It’s dark in here.” And as if on cue, a dim, yellowish light fills the small room. Geto’s hand wraps around a dingy string tailing from a single lightbulb, before he walks forward to corner you against a tiny sink stuffed in the room.
“Wh-what are you–?,” croaks out, interrupted by him spinning you around to bend over the porcelain fixture.
“ ‘M warming you up.,” he replies, hands ducking beneath the jacket and your dress to glide up and down your thighs. “You felt pretty cold earlier, can’t let you walk around like that. I’ll help you out before sending you on your way.”
You crane your neck to look at him. Geto looks so much bigger cramped in this tiny janitor’s closet amidst forgotten cleaning supplies and gloomy concrete walls.
“Geto–“
“Suguru.,” he corrects.
You huff, brows furrowing at him, though his eyes are locked on the sight of your exposed panties from where he’s bundled both the jacket and your dress around your waist. “Suguru, I got a lecture to get to, and I’m running late–“
“Mhm.”
You clench at the sensation of something hard against your ass, rambling, “A–nd it’s important, we’re doing group–, group assignments–“
A loud ripping sound and your panties are gone, then the sound of spitting followed by a warm something dripping down the seam of your ass. “Tell me all about it, darling.”
Something prods at your puckered hole, and your lungs shrivel inside your ribcage. You choke out, “Su-Suguru, I really, really–,” a whine as his slick finger breaches your hole, “need to be in cla–ss!” He sinks knuckle-deep into the tight orifice, wriggling around before pumping a few shallow thrusts. Wetness builds between your legs, that knowing ache forming in your core as Geto stills the writhing of your hips with his other hand.
“Geto-!,” a corrective ‘smack’ that leaves a hot sting on your ass, yelping ‘oh!’ before you continue pleading. “Suguru, cut it out, I really can’t fail this class!”
“Of course you can’t.,” Geto says automatically, clearly not listening, too busy stuffing another finger in to prep your hole. His dick twitches as another glob of spit drops from his lips, soaking between his fingers as they stretch your little opening. He scissors them apart, earning a gasp from you, before retrieving them as Geto’s now decided you’re ready.
“Look at that, you feel warmer already.”, he laughs softly, hands tracing the expanse of your skin, trailing up your lower back to feel the new heat radiating off you.
Of course Geto’s right, his playtime with your hole has blossomed a scorching heat over your body, coated in a sheen of sweat, a blazing throb between your thighs. The mass of his chest weighs on your back, Geto’s hand moving over one of yours to lace your fingers together on the edge of the sink; wet sounds of him thrusting into his hand fill the room, and your asshole clenches when you feel something much larger breaching your inside.
“S-Suguru!,” you whine, clutching the smooth porcelain as his tip forces it’s way into your entrance. “O-oh fuck, wait!”
Geto ignores your pleas, already halfway in. Your neck tingles under the vibration of his groan, hot breath on your neck, and Geto makes himself at home amongst the tightness of your walls, you squeezing around his dick as he buries himself deeper. “Fuck. So tight, loosen up, darling.”
His leaking tip drags along your walls, and you both synchronize an unbroken moan when he finally bottoms out in you, flush against your ass. The fullness of it feels funny, but you don’t have time to dwell on it as Geto draws out, before slamming back inside and sending you careening forward. Choked whines echo amidst the small room, mingling with Geto’s low, animalistic grunts, and the occasional curse entwined with rasps of ‘feels so fucking good ’ and ‘god, you’re gonna snap my dick off’. He nibbles on your neck, sucks a dark bruise on the skin, a hand trailing down to balance your leg on the edge of the sink. You embed teeth into your fist, suddenly fearful of passerby overhearing your activities, though it in turn prompts Geto to force a deeper arch in your back, your ass rippling as he ruts into your behind.
Your needy pussy clenches around nothing, clit aching for some kind of stimulation but both of your hands are busy. “Suguru–! O-oh god, please!”
Geto tightens his grip, further entangling your fingers, leaning to press you down some more. “Please what? You want me to touch you?”
You nod with a whine, earning a hard thrust before mewling out, “Yes, yes!”
Geto hums in thought, lips brushing behind your shoulder, and pants ,” Well?” and when he notices the knit of your brows. “Start begging then.”
“But–“
“Ah, ah, I’m waiting.” And he presses a rough kiss to your cheek. The hand on your hip creeps ever closer to your core, tracing over the crease of your thighs but not daring to go any further. A babble of pleas fall off your tongue, tears threatening to slip down your cheeks as your pussy yearns for some kind of stimulation.
“I’m being such a good g-girl for you, Sugu, your good pup–py.”
Aw, aren’t you cute, pulling out the little nickname you’d angrily sworn at them to never use. ‘Why would I ever use that, I don’t even like you.’ Suguru licks up your jawline, smothering your neck in another layer of sloppy kisses. You pull your drool-soaked fist from your mouth, lips quivering. Geto looks through lustful eyes to meet your needy, wide-eyed gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at your subtle pout.
"Pretty please, Suguru, I really want it...", you whine.
You're such a sight for sore eyes, Geto thinks, tongue darting over his lips as he finally dips a finger between your folds. He's immediately met with your cry, watching your head fall as he massages the swollen nub under his middle finger, basking in the desperate mewls of his name that leave you.
"I wanna cum with you, Sugu, please, please, feels so, s-so good..”
Geto's smile widens. "Yeah?” You nod eagerly. “Ask politely, like a good puppy, and I’ll let you."
His fingers plunge deep into your spasming hole, leaking juices down to his wrist, the rough thrusts of his cock leaving words to catch in your throat. Your release is just around the corner, and it's a struggle to hold back the way Geto is pounding into you, with his thumb still pressing circles into your clit.
"May I please cum with you, Sugu, please, please, please?", you whimper into the back of your hand.
A short silence follows. Geto's way of toying with you further. The way you squeeze around his fingers and dick make it evident you're close, but he just wants to see. Is his puppy really gonna go ahead and cum without his say so?
"Please–!" It's taking all your strength, and you don't know how much longer you can hold out. "Suguru, fuck, I-I might–“
And his answer feels like a blessing in your ears. "Go ahead, darling. Cum with me."
You let out a broken, choked moan, trembling in Geto's hands as your orgasm sends you over the edge. He thinks you just might actually cut off his dick the way you contract around him, groaning against your neck as he releases thick strings of cum into your entrance. Geto spreads your ass cheeks wide as he pulls out. Globs of his cum dribble out your tight hole, trailing down to mix with the cum leaking from your cunt. If not for Suguru holding you up, surely you would have collapsed on the floor, legs weak and useless in keeping you upright. Geto gives your ass a little smack, before readjusting your dress and his jacket to make you look a little more decent.
"There, all done.," he says. "Want me to walk you to class, now?"
You roll your eyes, shivering and gulping in air. Of course he’s wants to be funny with his cum running down your legs. Between shaky breaths, you rasp, "It's too–, far too late for that."
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tagz: @anthoosies today i offer u bully suguru, tomorrow….who knowz
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frogchiro · 9 months
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HII HII ur writing is perf 4 this idea but you don’t hav 2 do it !! i js thought of u <3 little red riding hood reader & big bad wolf (ko, ghost, price) any cod guy & i think it’s js soo cute !!!
[art by doujinpearl]
ARE YOU KIDDING ME THIS IS SO CUTE??? YOU NEVER MISS LOVE!!! And thank you it really means a lot to me that you like my silly writing <33
tw// horror elements and this has like one mention of a 'off-screen' death but no one major
I think I'm gonna go with König for this one?? Bc something about him just screams big bad wolf to me y'know? Also for the sake of this story, König is described like on the pics above, so his lower half is life a literal werewolf.
okay also i'm putting this under the cut because this somehow grew into a whole fic?? My dear @9irly9irl if you see this know that I love you and this was so. freaking. enjoyable to write??? I love this so much??? Also I'm sorry for the horror themes but I'm getting ready for October and the gloomy weather outside made me do this. I hope you still enjoy and PLEASE send me more for this au!!
Big bad wolf König who is on the prowl for some time now, he's on a hunt for you, the sweet girl who lives alone with her mother on the edge of the dark forest your good old momma always tells you to stay away from and for good reason. The townsfolk from the villages around whisper in fear and dread about a monster lurking in the woods, half man-half wolf with an insatiable taste for blood; they call the beast König, the undisputed King.
And honestly? König likes that rep. It means less annoying pests wandering around his territory safe for a groups of young guys from time to time who think they have the balls to try and 'kill the beast' but they are dealt with...pretty quickly.
But no, König has his glowing eyes set on something more...Exquisite. On something soft and pliable, sweet smelling and so so pretty. Namely on you. The werewolf guesses he has to be thanking his lucky starts or whatever bullshit that while sniffing around your cottage he overheard your mother talking about going out into the forest to bring her sickly mother, your grandma, a basket full of food and some other supplies and being the sweet little thing that you are, you of course cried and volunteered to go yourself, that your mother is already older and that you will make quick work of it.
König swears that day that his blood never rushed downward to his dick so fast. You, soft little you, all alone in his forest? His territory?? It's like you're begging to get taken and mated! The trek from your cottage to your grandma's home would take you about 2-3 days as she lives deep in the woods, the perfect timing for him to reveal himself and take you away for himself into his den in the darkest parts of the forest where you will have the perfect life with him! No more worrying about food or warmth during the cold, dreary winter months, he is more than a capable provider for his future mate, not to mention your future litter of happy yipping pups you will birth for him! It's a perfect plan!
And so he waits. And waits. And waits until the day you finally leave with your cute basket in tow and a tearful goodbye with your mommy dear that you will return as soon as possible. Yea, sure sweetheart.
I think he'd reveal himself by the time it's getting nighttime, when the sun sets, the air is getting cold and a ominous darkness sets over the forest where your trembling body sits in a makeshift nest made of a blanket and a thick animal pelt under a old, big tree. Everything seems so loud, the cries of nocturnal animals sound much more bleak and unnerving, not to mention the weird, chilling feeling of...something following you. Like there were a pair of eyes trained on you since a few weeks ago but you never mentioned this to your poor mother as you didn't want to worry her, but the feeling only amplified ever since you left your home and went on a trip to your grandmother.
You couldn't help the loud yelp you let out when suddenly a pair of glowing golden eyes appeared in the small clearing around the tree; a pair of glowing, unblinking orbs that seemed to be suspended in the air in the surrounding darkness, the weak fireplace you managed to make doing basically nothing to light up the area and your poor little heart started to beat like crazy when you noticed the eyes moving forward, closer and closer to you until the light finally caught what was moving towards you...or more like who.
It was an enormous man, easily over 7ft tall, his broad, bulky shoulders moving as he stood from the position he was in to his full height and those ominous glowing eyes still were unblinking as they stared at you like you were just some lamb and...you probably were.
The one thing that somehow stood out the most, even amidst literally everything else unnatural about this man, were a pair of ear on top of his head, which only now you noticed was covered in some sort of tattered old hood with holes for the eyes and ears, and a huge fluffy tail which was wagging faster anytime you seemed to look the man over, but what really brought it all together was his lower half...it-it was all fur. His legs were that of some bipedal wolf and in that moment a silent scream tried to make its way out of your throat; it was König, the brutal and unforgiving beast that resided in the surrounding forests, the one that people tell horror stories about around campfire and...he was here. He was here before you to tear you apart and leave nothing behind, not even bones.
Tears were streaming down your face, a look of utter defeat on it because after all, what more could you do? You can't possibly fight him, you can't outrun him, hiding is out of the picture too...You were ready to feel the unimaginable pain of those jaws locking themselves on your throat and draining you of your life but the you felt...warmth? A slick, warm feeling on your cheek and when you opened your eyes a bit you saw what it was. It was König, or more like his long tongue licking away at your cheek in an almost comforting matter, his wide unblinking eyes still trained on you though his pupils seemed to grow in size, now taking over most of the glowing yellow and when he deemed you to be clean of your tears, a large crooked nose with a scar running across it nudged into your cheek and took a deep sniff to get your scent. A stray thought ran through your mind when you took a closer look at his uncovered face and noticed another huge scar across his face and a few smaller ones, who or what in their right mind got close enough to inflict such wounds on someone like König?
When you stayed still and just stared at him wide eyed and out of breath König let out a deep growl like purr of content; he could hear your small aborted breaths still coming out quick and your heart fluttering in your chest like a small erratic bird but he could see that you were a tiny bit calmer now and not on the brink of hysterics like a few seconds before. He couldn't help but grin in delight, a nasty, wide thing that revealed rows of sharp teeth. He finally had you. He had you exactly where he wanted and now you were his. Well not completely yet, you two would need to mate first but still, everyone had to start somewhere right? For now he had you calmed down even for a bit, showed you that he wasn't a threat to you and wasn't going to hurt you. It was still only the night of the first day of your travels and he will offer to guide you, he couldn't possibly allow such a cute young lady to just wander around the deep dark forest all alone, right?
Of course he won't mention it that he will be herding you away from the path and instead guide you deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods where his den in. He won't mention it that he will be making very obvious and insistent advances at you, insisting on staying close at all times and wrapping his huge body around you at night for warmth, nosing and nudging at you to cover you in his scent and maybe make you a little bit hot under that deliciously low neckline of the dress that you're wearing, the cape in a lovely shade of red acting like a blanket to shield you away when König is nosing at your neck and bosom, greedy for all the tiny, shy, flustered noises you make, greedy for making you all hot and ready for him.
And of course he certainly won't mention to you about your poor old granny's corpse, rotting for weeks already in her old, decaying house where she died of some illness or old age. No, no, your new life is here, with him. Forever.
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erikatsu · 2 years
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DON'T LET ME GO ⋆.ೃ࿔* ═ FUSHIGURO TOJI
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˗ˏˋ PAIRING ˎˊ˗ fushiguro toji x fem!reader
˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ˎˊ˗ your ex’s dad comforts you after your break up.
˗ˏˋ WARNINGS ˎˊ˗ kinda angsty and soft. age gap, body worship (?), unprotected sex, pet names (baby, sweetheart), multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, baby trapping, creampie, aftercare, unedited
˗ˏˋ NOTE ˎˊ˗ repost from old acc !
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The soft tapping of the beginning rain hitting your windshield calmed you as you shut off the car. You couldn't help but think it was funny that the sky matched your mood. Dark, cloudy, and crying for you since you refused to do so yourself. Not anymore. Not over him, the boy who broke your heart after being together for over two years. 
You sighed, shutting off your vehicle as you talked yourself up. You’ll be fine, you assured yourself. Just get your things and go. 
Easier said than done. 
You blindly reached for the door handle, slowly pulling it open. Your heart raced as you yanked your hood over your head, dashing out into the soft rain. The petrichor hit your nose as it began to pick up, and you pulled your jacket tighter around you as you quickly walked up to the large house. You'd been here countless times, but the traditional Japanese style of the home always left you in awe. The dark zegiel tiles that lined the roof and met the kawara with the family crest in the center on top of the white clay walls accented by black wood fed your aesthetic for juxtaposition. 
You could remember the first time you came here. You were left breathless as you stared into the koi pond in the backyard, watching the fish swimming and the reds of the palmate maples and whites of the plum blossoms dance across the water’s reflection. You made a comment to your ex’s father that a Wisteria would suit the garden nicely between the black and white pines, as it lacked blues and purples, upon meeting him before you could think about what you had said. Fortunately for you, he agreed. Seeing it planted exactly where you pictured made you smile to this very day. 
Fushiguro Toji had always given you what your heart desired. When questioned about it by his son, the answer was always a simple, “You two remind me of your mother and I.” But, that wasn't it. Not really. In truth, Fushiguro Toji had always been taken with you. It was wrong, as you were his son’s age and (at the time) his son’s girlfriend. However, it wasn't like Toji would truly act on these feelings. 
No, Fushiguro Toji was a gentleman. All class with a smart mouth and dashing good looks to top it off, not only would he not come between you and his son, he wouldn't risk his career. Pulling away from the Zen’in clan and getting married at a young age had been the wildest thing he’s done in his life. After losing his wife and working full time to support Megumi, he had to do and be better than his family. Risking everything he'd worked towards for a woman half his age would be a waste. Instead, he showed his interest through material things under the guise of “one day she’ll be part of the family, she gets the Fushiguro treatment.”
Because a thing like money was no issue to Toji, he didn't mind spending it on you if it meant seeing you smile. Being the King of Kabutochō meant as long as he had investors, there would always be money. 
Even in the dreary weather, the landscaping of the property was still breathtaking. You didn't realize you'd been standing, staring into the yard instead of walking up the wooden steps to take cover underneath the extension of the roof, supported by tall wooden beams. With one last look, you made your way to the door, raising a hesitant hand to knock. You were so used to just walking in, a backpack slung over your shoulder and full of clothes to stay the weekend instead of staying on campus. Having to knock was another reminder that this would be your last visit here. 
You let your hand fall against the door, causing the dogs inside to bark. A voice barked back at them, telling them to be quiet and go lay down. You recognized it, wondering why Toji was answering the door instead of Megumi. He knew you'd be by today. Was he avoiding you? Or was he with the girl who had stolen his heart from you?
The door swung open, revealing Toji and all his morning glory. His hair disheveled, still in his silk pajamas. His eyes widened when he saw you, not knowing you were coming over. Before he could ask why you were knocking, he saw the red of your eyelids and your bloodshot eyes. His brow furrowed, bottom lip pushing outwards in confusion. 
“You've been crying. What's wrong?” He questioned, causing the familiar sting of tears to torment you as you tried to keep yourself composed. 
You wanted to tell him you'd been crying for three days now, and that you swore you wouldn't anymore before leaving the house. But, when you opened your mouth to tell him the truth, your voice caught in your throat. Just like that, your resolve crumbled. You allowed the tears to form, unable to stop them from flowing as Toji pulled you into the house. 
You refrained from answering as you took off your shoes and faced them towards the door. As soon as you turned back to face him, he pulled you into his chest, causing you to break down in his arms.
“He– He broke up with me,” You managed to choke out, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would stop the tears that fell from them. A harsh sob wracked your body as you felt yourself latch onto him, clinging to him for comfort that you desperately needed. His large hands rubbed your back, trying his best to console you as you gasped for air and dampened his shirt. “There's– There's someone else.”
The twinge of anger he felt flare up was nothing compared to his heart breaking at the sight of you like this. Crying over his son, who damn well had been raised better than to play with something as fragile and delicate as someone’s heart. 
“I’ll kill him,” Toji muttered before placing a gentle kiss atop your head.
You sniffled, trying to quickly compose yourself. You were already embarrassed that you had gotten snot and slobber on his expensive silk. But bringing it back up had all your insecurities floating toward the surface. Your lower lip trembled as you found yourself questioning, “I-is there something wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough? O-or–”
Toji pulled away slightly, softly hooking a finger under your chin. He gently lifted your head up so you'd look at him, his eyebrows furrowed with bewilderment. He shook his head at you. “Stop right there. You're the most stunning person in the entire world. You're kind, you're funny, and anyone would be lucky to have you. Only an idiot would let you go.”
The sincerity in his tone had your heart racing as you stared at him, wide eyed at his revelation. Before you could realize what you were doing, you were leaning into him. Your lips met his, reminding him of honey with how soft and sweet you were. He was too stunned to move, never expecting you to kiss him. But, just as quickly as you leaned in, you were pulling away with apologies falling from your mouth. 
“Mr. Fushiguro, I'm sorry!” You stepped back, shaking your head as you internally scolded yourself for being an idiot. “That was wrong, I don't know what came over me. I just need to get my things from Megumi and I'll be gone.”
“He's not here,” Toji cleared his throat, letting his hand drop from your chin. “You can go to his room, I'm sure he's got it all there.”
You nodded, promptly heading upstairs so you could grab your things and scatter. You were absolutely abashed, kicking yourself for kissing him like that. He was a grown man, old enough to be your own father. You didn't know what came over you, just chalked it up to being lost in a moment of weakness. What person wouldn't swoon at his words? Or read too much into what he said and how he said it?
Shaking the fleeting thought away from your mind, you entered Megumi's room to see a box of your things sitting on the edge of his nicely made bed. You frowned, knowing your relationship was truly over. Your heart clenched tightly as you picked the box up and took one last longing look around his room. 
Another sigh left your lips as you left, going back downstairs to see Toji staring out the window in the living room, watching the steady rain turn into a harsh downpour. No matter how much he squinted, he couldn't fully make out the purple blooms of the Wisteria he'd planted for you in the thick of the gray rainfall. 
He turned, looking over his shoulder as you approached him. Your eyes were locked on the outside, wondering if it was even safe to drive home when the rain could turn into a monsoon at any given moment. Toji apparently had the same thought, taking the box from you and setting it off to the side. 
“I'd be more comfortable if you stayed until it calms down out there,” He admitted to you, just now noticing you were still soaked from the rain earlier. “I'll have a bath drawn for you and get you a fresh change of clothes.”
He insisted, even though you assured him you'd be fine. He wouldn't take no for an answer, leading you to the private ofuro at the back of the house. He slid the shoji out of the way, revealing the large wooden tub full of already steaming water. The warmth hit you as you stepped inside the sunroom, watching the rain heavily hitting the windows that allowed in the natural light. 
You'd never been in this room before, knowing this was part of Toji’s bathroom. You were taken away with the dark hinoki wood that not only made the tub, but filled the room with its natural lemony scent. You weren't listening as Toji told you where you could find everything, walking towards the tub and lightly feeling the water. It was hot, but not scalding as you pushed through the surface tension, swirling your hand for a brief second before pulling away. 
When you turned to ask for a towel, he was already behind you, smiling at you in amusement. You jumped, not expecting him to be right there. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest again, more due to his close proximity than anything else. The thought of kissing him crossed your mind again, a thin veil of heat covering your cheeks as you looked away. He cupped your cheek, slowly bringing your gaze back to him. His free hand grabbed your hip, pulling you closer before delicately catching your lips with his own.
You don't know what drove you to move your mouth against his, but you didn't stop yourself as you wound your arms around his neck. Your head was spinning as he gently tugged at your bottom lip, unable to believe you were kissing your ex-boyfriend's father. Toji’s fingers dug into your side, gently rubbing his thumb over your hip. You opened your mouth, allowing him in as your mind went blank. Your hands trailed from his neck down to his chest, and just as he thought you'd push him away, you were undoing the buttons of his shirt. 
His breath hitched as you broke the kiss, looking up at him almost innocently, “Stay with me.”
All his morals had gone out the window the second he decided to kiss you. His hands were pushing your jacket off your shoulders and he was lifting your shirt over your head in response, knowing full and well this was crossing one hell of a line. But, it's not like Megumi would know. He'd already texted, saying he'd be at Yuuji’s until the weather slowed so he wouldn't be coming home anytime soon. 
Clothes were haphazardly thrown across the room before you slipped into the ofuro with Toji, back pressed tightly to his chest as he peppered light kisses against the soft skin of your neck and shoulders. The heat of the water mixed with the feathery soft touches caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. You tilted your head back, resting against him as hands traveled over your body, like tracing lines on a map. He'd sear every inch of you into his twisted mind, memorizing the soft gasps that fell off your lips as he gently cupped your breast and ran his down your belly. Once his fingers brushed your clit, you let out a sharp noise. 
He tenderly rubbed at your sensitive bud, kissing at your neck. You allowed your eyes to close as he toyed with you under the water, a whimper escaping you from the stimulation. Wrapped up with him had you forgetting why you had even come over, had you overlooking the fact this was Megumi’s father and he was over twenty years older than you. No, brushed all of that aside as you twisted your body, sitting in his lap as your mouth found his and you rolled your hips against his hard on. 
You were going to drive him wild. 
Your perfect body pushing flush against his as you squeezed him in all the right places, your soft lips against his tasting like strawberries and mint. His mind was reeling, already intoxicated by how you felt and leaving him wanting more as you rocked your hips. 
You shouldn't have been surprised when he lifted you out of the water, carefully stepping out of the tub, but you scrambled to lock your legs around his toned waist as he carried you towards his room. Water dripped onto the floor, leaving a trail from the sunroom to the bedroom. He never broke contact until he placed you on the bed, kissing his way down your body until his head was between your legs as his tongue ran up and down your slick. 
“God, you're so fucking beautiful,” He mumurmed against your skin before gently pressing his lips to your clit. You whimpered as buried his head between your thighs again, lapping at your wet core as if his tongue was trying to memorize your sweet, gummy walls. Because he was lost in you and your moans, adding fingers and not stopping even as you came in his mouth. Overtaken with the need to have you, he ended up drowning in your heat, pussy drunk off the idea of making you cum until you couldn't anymore. 
You tangled your fingers into his hair, pushing him even further as you whined at the feeling of his fingers curling in and out of you, along with his mouth gently sucking at your clit. 
“Toji–” You panted, breath catching in your throat as your head spun from the overstimulation he was putting you through. “Nngh, s’too much.”
But he wasn't listening, working his two digits and mouth even faster. You keened, back arching as you rolled your hips up. Your entire body tingling and about to go through another wave of euphoria when he finally pulled away. 
He towered over you, cupping your cheek as he leaned in. Instead of kissing you, he rested his forehead against yours. He ran his thumb along your bottom lip, breathing heavily, “Do you want this?”
You were nodding before he even finished his question, staring into his dark blue eyes, “Yes. I want you.”
God, did you want him. Your mind was so overclouded with the thought of him, you had completely pushed Megumi far from your mind. You'd forgotten you'd spent days crying, sobbing over a boy as you were under Toji.
He groaned, reaching down to grab his cock, rubbing it over your entrance a few times before pushing inside. Your eyes fluttered, closing completely as he slowly fucked into you. He kissed you as he evocatively rocked his hips, high pitched gasps leaving your body at the feeling of his raw shaft working deeper inside you and stretching you out. You whimpered against his mouth when he bottomed out, brushing up against the entrance of your womb.
“So fuckin’ tight, baby,” He moaned into your mouth, finding a steady rhythm to roll his hips to. 
He was savoring the way you felt as you squeezed him, the way you tasted, how soft your lips were. He couldn't believe he finally had you, underneath him and taking his length like a champ. He never would've acted on his attraction for you if you hadn't done so first. As his cock dragged along your walls and his tongue danced with yours, the thought of filling your pretty little cunt full of his seed briefly crossed his mind. 
Toji pulled away from you, sliding out before rolling you over and pulling your hips up. He sunk back into your slick with heavy curses flying from his mouth. You mewled as he pressed his chest to your back, his lips brushing where your shoulder met your neck. He reached even further than before, his cock kissing your cervix with each stroke, eliciting soft yelps from you every time.
“Toji, please,” You whined out, gripping the sheets tightly in your hands. “Faster.”
His slow thrusts only picked up slightly, teasing you as he smirked against your skin. You let out a noise of complaint as he chuckled, moving his head to whisper in your ear, “You gotta be more specific, sweetheart.”
You groaned as he pushed deep inside, rutting into your tight hole as he turned your head to once again kiss you. As he locked lips with you, he kept his strokes short and deep, but faster as you had asked. Your moans filled his mouth, spurring him on as he bullied you from behind. The sound of his balls smacking against your wet cunt was all he could hear besides you, pushing you closer to the edge with each thrust. 
Your knuckles were turning white as your pussy clenched around his cock and you gripped the sheets even tighter. He groaned, pulling away from you as he murmured, “That's right baby, cum for me.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, crying out as you felt a tight knot building inside you. Toji pushed himself up, grabbing your hips and forcing them back each time he rocked into you. A choked noise left you as he fucked you into your high, cumming around with his cock with a sharp whine. He rode you out, slowing down as your grip on him loosened and you were left breathless. 
He gradually pulled out, flipping you back over. Pushing one of your thighs back, he lined himself up before slipping back into you with ease. Your back arched as he worked his rhythm back up, long thrusts instead of short as he began to chase his own orgasm. Grunts fell from his lips as he rammed into you, yelps emitted from you in turn. You cried out his name, sending his mind into a frenzy. 
He loved the way his name rolled off your tongue instead of “Mr. Fushiguro”. You had always addressed him as that, even though he had told you several times that Toji was fine. He’s glad you waited though, making the experience that much better. 
As you squirmed under him, pleasured noises leaving your mouth, he found himself close to his own high, warning you he was going to cum. He had every intention of pulling out, but something in you snapped and you locked your legs around his waist, jerking him in as far as he could go.
“Nngh, you're playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” He groaned, losing all control of his hips as your actions threw him into his high. He drilled into you, his balls slapping your skin so hard you were sure they'd leave marks. With one last thrust, he pushed as deep as he could go, spilling his hot seed into your tight cunt. 
You both panted, catching your breath as he finally pulled out of you. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips before standing. Toji dipped back into the bathroom before coming back with a towel and silk robes. As he cleaned you up, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. 
Toji had always been intimidating, but you got to see that he wasn't. He was sweet and more gentle than he seemed. You couldn't help but wonder what would come from what just happened. Whether it continued, became serious, or was forgotten didn't much matter to you.
You slipped on the robe, lying back down on the side of the super wide king bed that wasn't soaked from the bath water or your juices. Toji flopped down beside you, running a large hand up your leg and stopping as he decided to rest it on your ass.
“If you wanted me to breed you, baby, you should’a just said so,” He teased, causing heat to rush to your cheeks.
The two of you had been so invested in each other, you didn't realize the rain had stopped shortly after it started. But, you were still wrapped up in the older man and how he made you feel so good that you'd completely forgotten the reason for your visit. 
You walked your fingers up his chest, about to give a coy response when a voice from the doorway had you immediately halfing in your tracks. 
“Dad!?”
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sinner-as-saint · 8 months
Text
not without you
Viking Chief!Bucky x Witch!Reader 
Run-through: You’re a powerful witch, famous and respected for your mastery of magic and ability to control the elements. Naturally, people always need you. Vikings, kings, and common men alike, be it to magically save dying crops, help them win battles, or to protect their people by manipulating the weather. One day, a certain blue-eyed Viking chief asks for your help. Bucky Barnes – one of the strongest, most feared of his kind, known for his ruthlessness and brutal nature. He offers your wandering self shelter and protection in return for your help in keeping his people and crops alive and well with the harsh winter approaching fast. And you can’t seem to refuse his offer… 
Themes: witch!reader, viking chief!bucky, smut, fluff, mild knife kink, cosy winter vibes, metal arm, tatted!bucky, possessive!bucky, slight angst, HEA, 
a/n: thank you for 28k. I love you.
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The wind whispered that he was on his way to you. 
By the time the Chief and his men made their way to your makeshift shack on the edge of the woods, you were already out waiting for them. 
Hidden under your billowy cloak, with the hood hiding most of your face, you stood and faced the men with confidence. You couldn’t see them, given the hood, but you sensed the way the Chief got off of his horse, clutching his sword in hand as he took a step. Not in fear, no. But in that arrogant way you’d expect a Chief to move. 
“Witch.” He greeted you. It was the only way he could greet you anyway, nobody knew your name. 
You smirked. Finally peeling your hood off your head. You gave him a brief nod, “Chief.” You looked him right in those ocean blue eyes of his and judging by the look in them, you could tell he wasn’t used to people maintaining eye contact with him. He was an important man after all, and most people feared him. 
But your magic had a way of reading people for you and… there was nothing to be afraid of. Not of him. He did look every bit of the fearsome viking he was known as though. Thick furs couldn’t hide the tall, muscular body. His shoulder length brown hair braided in some places. His handsome face was serious, like he rarely smiled. And all that ink all over his neck, and arm – just one arm because the other one was made of pure metal. 
You had heard stories of how he’d lost his arm in battle, and how a great, benevolent king – also a close friend of his – had the metal arm constructed for him. 
But above all else, the Chief was devastatingly handsome. You’d known, courted, and befriended quite some men. Hunters. Lords. Warlocks. Princes. Kings. Yet none were quite as devastatingly handsome as the Chief. 
You quickly looked behind him and saw two men standing taller and prouder than the rest of the warriors. The wind whispered their names to you. Sam. Steve. Both were just as handsome as their Chief, however there was something about the male standing in front of you with a sword in hand. Thick white fur wrapped around his shoulders. Clear, icy blue eyes. Pink mouth. The cold made his cheeks and nose red. 
“We heard rumours that you were close to our village, and we’ve come to ask for your help.” The Chief said, gracefully, calmly. 
You gave him a nod. “I know.” You said quietly. “The north wind brings news that this winter will be exceptionally harsh.”
Bucky gave you that look that most people gave you when they figured out that your magic was indeed real. He was just a little surprised, but composed himself. “We desperately need your help.” He spoke again. 
You agreed to help of course. This was your purpose with the magic you had. 
And since you had little to pack, you went with them immediately. They didn’t bring an extra horse so you rode with the handsome Chief back to his village where you would be spending the entirety of the coming winter. 
You never asked for anything in exchange. Some witches did, most of them did not. Mainly because you never needed anything, you had magic and you could conjure anything you wanted out of nothing. But you liked having company of people. So you considered that payment. 
And after spending months on your own, you were looking forward to meeting new people, helping them. 
During the ride back to the village you’d be calling home for the coming months, you felt the Chief tense behind you. His muscular arms circled around you as he held the reins but he was respectful enough to keep a few inches between you and him. You could only assume how much stress he was putting on his back to keep him from slouching forward. 
You hid your smile as you sensed that he was nervous. “You don’t have to be so tense.” You said, turning your head to the side a little. “Witches don’t bite.” You spoke quietly so that the men behind you wouldn’t hear. 
“I don’t…” He let out a huff of warm air. “I don’t want to be disrespectful.” 
You smirked, but he couldn’t see it. “I’m just saying, you could use the warmth.” 
He didn’t know what you meant until he slowly inched closer, his chest pressing against your back. Even with the multiple layers separating the two of you, your body heat wrapped around him in a way that had him sighing in relief. 
Without another word said, his metal arm wrapped around your middle as he pulled you against him even more. You smiled as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You’re very warm.” He sounded a little surprised. His deep, gravelly voice making you shiver despite the warmth. 
“Magic, remember?” 
He hummed in response, keeping his arm loosely around your waist as he took you to his village. The tension between you two felt electric. 
The ride wasn’t too long, and soon you arrived at the village. It was larger than you had imagined. Busier, but tidier. 
Once you got past the tall, wooden palisades you could see more of the daily activities. Hunters sharpening their weapons, warriors training, children running around. You spotted the vast crops, the rivers. 
There was so much you couldn’t see, but the elements spoke to you. You knew there was a lake here somewhere. The Chief’s hall was beyond the wooden houses which were scattered all over. You knew there were people gathered somewhere near the beach, working on building a new boat. Multiple boats in fact. 
“Welcome to my home.” The Chief whispered as he led you deeper into the village. 
Judging by the relieved smiles on people’s faces as they spotted you, you knew they were aware that you were here to help them. You smiled back to as many as you could on your way to the main area, in the middle of the village. 
The Chief helped you off the horse and when you thanked him he said, “You can call me Bucky. All my friends do.” 
You gave me a smile, “Alright, Bucky.” 
He nodded, then pointed at a wooden house, not far from his residence, and said, “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.” 
One of the ladies was beside you immediately, saying she wanted to help you get settled in. So with one last glance at Bucky, you made your way to your new, temporary home. 
The moment he walked into his home, sighing in relief at the feeling of warmth, his two best friends rushed in after him, grinning like they were up to no good. Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam and Steve as he poured wine into three cups. 
“What?” He barked at them, handing them their cups before he sat on one of the few stairs that led to his seat. The one he sat on when he had to act as Chief. But when he was with his friends, he didn’t like sitting on it. 
“Are we going to address the heated looks you and the witch have been sharing or are we going to pretend nothing’s happening here?” Sam teased, leaning against a nearby table. 
Steve chuckled, sitting down near the fire in the middle of the room. “Yeah Chief, what’s going on?” 
Bucky glared at them both. He loved them to death, would die and kill for them in a heartbeat. But gods, they could be so annoying. “Enough,” He grumbled as they both laughed shamelessly at him, “She’s our guest. Most of all, we need her to survive this winter. Be respectful.” 
Sam smirked and said, “Is that what that was on the ride back? The two of you as close as lovers? Was that you being respectful?” 
Steve’s laughter echoed around the hall. Bucky wanted to chuck his cup at both of them but he didn’t want to waste the wine so he just rolled his eyes again, “Get out both of you.” 
“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve spoke up, “With her as your wife we would be unstoppable.” 
Sam nodded, “Exactly.” 
“Both of you, shut up.” 
“I mean, she is beautiful. If you’re not interested, I might check out what else her magic can do when-,” Steve stopped talking the moment Bucky threw his cup at him, wine and all. 
Sam choked on his drink and laughed even harder. 
Shortly after, Bucky kicked both of them out of his home. He was surprised at how it suddenly got hard to breathe or think the moment Steve even jokingly hinted at getting intimate with you. Bucky felt so protective over you despite having met you just hours ago. 
He just wished he could keep that under control for the coming months. You were his guest after all. He couldn’t be inappropriate. 
— 
He couldn’t sleep that night. The village was quiet, dark. The night was cold given winter was approaching really fast. The next day, he had plans to give you a tour of the village and thinking about spending hours with you was making him nervous. But in a good way. Gods, he was turning into a little boy with a crush. This was bad for his image. 
He couldn’t sleep, so he figured a walk might tire him out. So he layered up in his favourite furs, grabbed a torch and stepped outside. It was dark, save for the moonlight. And also light coming from your temporary home. 
Bucky was walking towards the wooden house before he even realised it. His hand was knocking against the door before he could talk himself out of it. He should let you rest. He should act like a grown up and walk away right now. Being Chief he should– 
He stopped functioning the moment you opened the door and looked up at him. Dressed in a beige night dress, a woollen blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and the dimmed light of the torches made you look ethereal just standing there at the door. 
You spoke first, “Bucky.” You didn’t sound surprised. You knew he was coming over the moment he stepped out of his home. “It’s rather late, is something wrong?” You couldn’t help but ask. You knew he was coming over, but you didn’t know why. Your magic, fortunately, didn’t allow you to read minds. 
Bucky placed the torch on the sconce by the door and cleared his throat, standing proud and tall like one would expect him to. “I saw your lights were still on. I couldn’t help but worry so I… uh, came to check.” He paused, awkwardly. “Do you… are you comfortable? Do you need anything?” 
You sensed his slight nervousness even without using your magic. You tilted your head to the side and smiled at him, “I’m very comfortable. Your people were kind enough to–” You stopped, noticing how foggy his breaths were, “Please come in,” You opened the door wider, “It’s cold out.” 
Bucky accepted the invitation. As soon as he stepped in, you placed your hand on his chest. Bucky blinked and in the fraction of a second, he felt comfortably warm. He gave you a thankful smile. 
You smirked playfully and whispered, “Magic.” Then you moved towards the makeshift kitchen, “Tea?” 
Bucky grimaced and said, “I don’t like that bitter stuff.” He mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 
You chuckled, “I bet you will like this one.” You went ahead and made him chamomile tea, with warm milk and a generous dollop of honey. 
By the time you brought the mug to him, you found him bent over your little desk. He was looking down at the map you were currently making, your special black ink on special parchment paper. 
Bucky whispered his thanks as he took the mug, then said, “You’re making a map of the village?” He sounded both amazed and confused. “No one has been able to make one this accurate. You haven’t even… “ He paused, “Of course,” He smirked, “Magic.” 
You smiled. “Maps help me control my spells better. It’s enchanted parchment you see,” You pointed at the map, “I can even work from here with the help of the map.” You looked back up at him and saw the look of delight on his face as he took his first sip of the tea. 
He raised an eyebrow at you, “You laced this with magic as well?” 
You giggled, “No, just milk and honey.” 
Bucky just stared at you with soft eyes. In the dim, golden lights his eyes twinkled like that of a wolf. You stared into them, neither of you spoke. Until he finally blinked, pointed at the map and said, “It must be incredible, being this talented.” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle in a self-deprecating way. “Talent.” You repeated, looking down at the map. Then quietly said, “I was always taught and told that my magic was a great weapon. But thank you, I guess.” 
Without another word said, Bucky placed his half empty mug down and grabbed both of your hands in his large, warm ones. He tugged you closer, gently. Just the slightest bit so he could have your undivided attention. 
“You’re not a weapon. You won’t ever be one, not here.” He said, softly. Slowly. “You are our salvation.” 
You had been repaid in many ways throughout your life. Chests filled with gold. Jewels. Feasts and balls thrown in your name. Even a few marriage proposals from influential families. But no one had ever told you that you were their salvation. Something about Bucky saying it, even before you got him and his people through the winter, made you tear up just a little. 
His face softened as he wiped that tear away from your cheek with his slightly cold metal arm. “I mean it.” He whispered. Then he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, whispering, “You are so beautiful.” Then a little closer to your mouth. “So warm.” Then finally pressed his lips against yours as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer and pressing you against the soft furs he was wearing. 
You couldn’t help but moan quietly into the kiss. That made him growl, made him deepen the kiss. His warm hand cradled your face as his metal arm wrapped around your waist. His lips were surprisingly soft, and his kiss was gentle. Sensual. Your hands wandered over his chest. You could feel his heart racing. You could feel him breathing deeper, but refusing to break the kiss. 
You gasped in pleasure when his mouth left your lips briefly to kiss along your jaw, making your heart flutter in anticipation. But then, he stopped and pulled away. He was breathless, frowning, his lips wet and pink. 
“I… I shouldn’t.” He licked his lips and you almost moaned again. “You’re…” He took a deep breath. “You’re my guest. And you only just got here.” He shook his head, as if disappointed in himself. “I shouldn’t have pounced on you like an animal like that.” 
You fixed the blanket around your shoulders, giving him a playful, though disappointed, smile. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you, but no one even mentioned you were such a proper gentleman.” 
Bucky cleared his throat, then gave you a heated look that screamed that if he didn’t get out of here right this instant he would surely be pouncing on you again. “I should go.” He mumbled. “Thank you for the tea.” 
You nodded, “You’re very welcome. I will see you tomorrow, for the tour?” 
He nodded. Then as he turned to leave, he paused. He turned back around and unwrapped the thick white fur from around his shoulders and placed it on your desk. The tunic he wore was loose around his neck so you could see the ink on his skin peaking through. “Keep this,” He said, “you might need it for tomorrow.” 
You smirked, understanding what he was playing at. He knew you could keep yourself warm. But he just wanted you to wear something of his while he showed you around tomorrow. He wanted everyone to see you wearing something of his. You had heard of vikings being territorial, and truthfully, you didn’t mind this one bit. 
You played along, pretending to be oblivious. “Won’t you be cold then?” 
As he stepped out of the door, he turned to look at you. Smirked and said, “I think your magic will keep me warm enough.” 
You chuckled as he shut the door behind him, took his torch and left. Who knew the Chief would be such a flirt? 
— 
Bucky had never been this excited to give someone a tour of his village. He was at your door the next morning, early and ready. He knew you already had a map, but he wanted you to see the place properly. 
You caught the approval in his smile when he saw you wearing the fur he left you as you stepped out to join him. He was wearing black furs, and looked just as majestic. 
“My people are delighted that you’re here to save us from the winter,” He said as the two of you began walking towards the centre of the village, the busiest part he told you. “So expect a lot of gifts along the way.” 
You didn’t know what to expect. And even after politely refusing many, many tokens of thanks from his people, you already had baskets filled with cheese, berries, fresh bread and you were even done with the tour yet. Bucky, of course, carried the baskets for you. 
He was in a good mood, you realised. He was showing off a little as he gave you the tour. Showing you all the new warehouses, the new boats that were being built near the beaches, the new houses being made as the number of people grew. 
He showed you the hall where himself, Steve, and Sam often trained young kids. They taught them how to fight, to defend. They’re vikings, they need to be ready, he said, for anything and everything. 
He had a glow on his face as he spoke about the kids, and you couldn’t help but ask, “How come you don’t have any?” 
Bucky gave you a faint smile. Then said, “After my father died, I had to take care of everything around here. And I guess I never had time.” He paused, “I also never found the right person.” 
You turned to look at him and he was looking the other way, surely hiding a smirk. You decided to drop the subject. 
Bucky led you deeper into the village, near the lake. “It looks incredible in the summer, but–,” He stopped talking once the two of you heard male voices shouting. It sounded like it was coming from the lake. 
You followed Bucky as he rushed to the lakeside and let out a groan. You chuckled once you saw what he was looking at. His two friends, Steve and Sam, arguing in the water about who pushed who first. 
Bucky sighed and said, “I apologise, I wish these two would act like adults.” Then he yelled at them, “Hey! Stop trying to make me look bad. And get out of the water both of you, I can’t have you both freeze to death!” 
You watched how the two of them swam towards the shore and eventually got out, trembling. 
“Gods, I hate you.” Sam said, shivering. 
“You pushed me!” Steve argued, shoving Sam. 
Sam shoved him back, “You pushed me!” 
“Enough!” Bucky turned to you and said, “My useless friends,” He introduced, “I wish you would’ve met them in more normal circumstances.” 
You laughed, then walked up to the two men. “Hello,” You said and placed your hands on each of their shoulders, your magic would keep them from shivering. And the moment you touched them, they both sighed in relief. “There, that should keep you warm until you get home.” 
You couldn’t help but check them out. They were both muscular and fit, and the way the wet tunics clung to their bodies… their muscular torsos, and biceps bigger than– 
Bucky cleared his throat and you quickly looked away. You were almost certain Sam and Steve were smirking as they mumbled their goodbyes and hurried home. 
“We should get back.” Bucky said, his mood immediately turning sour. 
When the two of you did head back, he walked you to your home, handed you your baskets full of food and gifts, whispered a brief goodbye and left. You had planned that you would ask him to join you for dinner, as a way of thanking him for the tour. But he was just so grumpy on the way back that you decided not to. 
But then you were restless the whole evening. You made yourself a quick dinner and sat by the fire to read but something didn’t feel right. 
As it got later, the village got more and more quiet. And dark. When the wolves began howling you knew it was very late, but as you looked through the window, you saw that the lights inside Bucky’s home were still lit. 
He was awake. 
You debated walking over to his place, but then decided not to. You had to get to work the next day and surely you’d get a chance to talk to him then. 
You visited the crops first, drawing your runes in the dirt. That’s where you ran into Steve and Sam. They wished to introduce themselves properly, and the three of you began talking. They showed you around for a little while, making you laugh at their jokes and stories of their childhood. 
They kept you company while you worked and at some point, you sensed that someone was watching you. You knew who it was before you even turned around. 
There was Bucky standing, proud and tall, quite far from the crops. The same broody expression on his face as the day before. 
You almost lifted your hand to wave at him but then he walked away. 
“We better leave,” Steve said with a mischievous smile. 
“I’m afraid if the Chief sees us around you again he might behead us in public.” Sam winked at you and then walked away. 
So Bucky was jealous. 
After you were done with the crops, as you made your way home in the afternoon, you ran in Bucky in the village centre. He was on his way home as well, you realised, so you walked a little faster until you caught up to him. 
Once you were beside him, you said, “Hello, Bucky.” 
“Hello.” He mumbled. 
“I worked at the crops today, I drew my runes.” You told him. 
“I know, I saw you earlier.” He said.
His voice held enough distaste that you couldn’t help but ask calmly, “Why are you angry at me?” 
He threw you a look and mumbled grumpily, “I’m not angry. I’m very grateful that you’re here.” 
"Then why won't you talk to me?" You asked. "You look like you're angry." You paused, then asked, "Is it because I was talking to your friends?" 
He stopped walking immediately. Turned to face you and said, "What were the three of you talking about anyway?" 
You had to hide a smirk as you answered, "Nothing in particular. They were just keeping me company." Seeing he still had that broody look on his face you asked, “Does that bother you?” 
He scoffed. "No." He frowned. "Why would it? You're free to talk to whoever you want, you're our–" 
You cut him off, "Guest, yes. I know." You smiled. "Well then, how would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" 
Bucky's bright blue eyes stared at you, an unexplainable expression in them. "Another time." He said much to your surprise. 
The rest of the walk back was filled with awkward silence. 
That night, you were restless. After a quick dinner, you sat by the fire to read but you couldn’t quite get into it. Then you got up and looked through the window and saw that the lights in Bucky’s home were still on. 
Again. He was awake. This time you didn’t think twice before putting your cloak on and walking to his front door. It was so quiet that you could hear the knocks echoing. Two knocks later, Bucky opened the door. 
His braids were undone, yet he looked just as handsome. “It’s late.” He said. 
“Also very cold, you should let me in.” You said. 
Bucky opened the door wider, letting you in before shutting the door. 
You walked into his home and took it all in. The place smelled like him, and a little smoky. Probably due to the fire that burned in the middle, keeping the place nice and warm. You saw his seat. His swords and weapons hung on the walls, along with artworks. Furs and rugs scattered on the floor, the place was cosy. 
“Nice place.” You commented as you turned to face him. You found him leaning against a nearby wooden column, with a drink in hand. 
He gave you a curious look. “Surely you didn’t walk all the way here to comment on my home.” He said. He looked good. The dim light from the torches made him look like a god. Long brown hair, pretty blue eyes. His tunic was loose now, showing a lot of the ink on his skin. His metal arm caught the light a few times, shining occasionally when he moved. 
You felt your heartbeats echoing louder in your ears the more you looked at him. And then… then he had the audacity to slowly lick his lips. 
That did it. You walked up to him, carefully took the cup from his hand and brought it to your lips. You held his stare the whole time. You took a careful sip because whatever it was, it was very strong. Then said, “No, no I didn’t.” 
Bucky gave you a heated look. One that was familiar from the other night when he kissed you. “You know, it’s rude to snatch someone’s drink. Especially the Chief's.” 
You smirked at him. “Do something about it then,” You added mischievously, “Chief.” 
“Oh?” Bucky’s metal arm was around your waist in no time, pulling you into his warm, muscular chest. “Now you want my attention?” He taunted, his voice deep, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the smirk on your lips. “What about when you were shamelessly staring at other men right in front of me? Or what about earlier, when you were–” 
You cut him off with a chuckle. “Just say you are jealous.” You took another sip from his drink. “And if this is how you treat your guests then I think I can imagine why everyone fears you.” 
“I’m not jealous,” He mumbled, nuzzling your cheek. “I just don’t like seeing you with other men.”
You gasped, and almost dropped the cup in surprise as he kissed along your jaw softly, biting you playfully while he’s at it. “So possessive,” You whispered, “We only just met.” You teased. 
His grip tightened around your waist before he pulled away to look at you. His blue eyes now dark with desire and longing. “Yet I haven’t been able to think about anything other than wanting to have you all to myself ever since I kissed you that night.” He said. 
He looked down at your mouth as he spoke, and it only made your heart race faster. “Bucky…” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him, you just… wanted. “Please.” You found yourself whispering. Pleading, which you had never done before. 
Bucky clenched his jaw and turned, pressing your back into the wooden column he was leaning against earlier. The cup fell to the floor, neither of you paying much attention to it. His metal hand cupped your face and he stared into your eyes as he spoke. 
His voice was dangerously low as he spoke, “You must understand, if we do this there’s no going back.” He said, looking down at your parted lips. “If we do this, you’re mine.” He reiterated, “If we do this,” He leaned in to brush his soft lips carefully against yours, making you gasp and whimper, “You belong to me and only me. Are we clear?” 
The rasp in his voice and the feral desire lacing his words already made your brain foggy. “Yes,” You whispered, placing the palms of your hands pressing against his warm chest and partially exposed skin. 
He wasted no time in undoing your cloak and letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles. Bucky had a devilish smile on his face once he saw that you were wearing nothing beneath the cloak except for flimsy undergarments. Near transparent ones. 
Bucky’s eager hand trailed up your body, gently, starting from your thigh all the way to your breasts. The warmth of his hand made you shiver in pleasure. “So this is why you were complaining about being cold?” He whispered in your ear while his hand ran up and down your sides. “I thought you could manipulate elements to keep yourself warm.” Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch. 
“Well, I can manipulate the elements.” You said. Bucky pulled away to look into your eyes. “But there’s nothing quite like body heat.” He smirked at the sight of the look of mischief in your eyes. 
Then he gently tugged on the delicate necklace around your neck, toying with the crystal pendant leisurely as if he had all the time in the world. As if he couldn’t see you squirming under his touch, wanting more. 
“It’s…” He frowned at the crystal, now holding it between two metal fingers. “It’s moving.” He whispered, and sounded so genuinely confused that it made you smile. Who knew this tall, muscular, godlike man could be adorable? 
You nodded, looking at the crystal. It was clear mostly, except for a greyish, dark, flowy mist moving around inside it. It looked like smoke trapped inside the crystal, but it was just energy. “I was given this by my family the day I left my home when I was a young girl. As a gift. For protection.” You explained. 
You looked up to find him looking down at you with a heated, wild look in his eyes. “I’m here now,” He said. “I’ll protect you. Always.” He pulled you closer, pressing your barely clothed body against him. 
You smiled, sliding your hands up until your fingers slid into his soft hair. The light from the burning torches began to dim, making the room slightly darker but still golden. The smirk on Bucky’s handsome face signalled that he knew you were messing with the torches. 
“I want you,” You whispered, pressing your lips to his cheek. The slight stubble felt rough against your mouth. But it only made you wonder where else it would feel rough. And you couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped your mouth. 
As if he could read your mind, Bucky chuckled. He grabbed you by the neck, tightening his grip just a little, enough to make you feel warm all over. “I don’t think I could be gentle…” He whispered, his metal hand reaching for the fine dagger he kept on him at all times. 
He carefully pressed the tip flat against your lower lip. Your heart began racing faster. Bucky slowly dragged the tip of the dagged down your chin, down the side of your neck, down in between your breasts before he cut the fabric, slicing it in two and letting that fall down to the floor as well. You hissed as the cold air hit your now exposed breasts. Bucky seemed pleased as he let go of your neck, his hand trailing down to fondle with your breast instead. You tipped your head back and moaned at his touch. 
He kept the dagger pressed against your skin as he leaned in to kiss your exposed neck, “I don’t want to be gentle.” He said. 
You let out a gasp as he slid the tip of the dagger sideways, circling your nipple with it deliberately slow. “Good,” You whispered, “I don’t want you to be gentle.” 
Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you’re perfect.” He dragged the tip of the dagger down, sliding it slowly across your abdomen, right above the waistband of your undergarments. Over and over again until you were squirming, and gasping, and grinding on nothing. 
“Please,” You said, looking at him with soft eyes.
Bucky held your stare as he slid the dagger under the fabric of your undergarment and sliced that off of you as well. Fuck that sound of fabric tearing off of your body did something to you. 
“Please,” You begged again. You were unable to ignore the wetness in between your legs anymore. Neither could he. 
Once there was not an inch of fabric shielding you from his hungry stare, Bucky threw the dagger onto the pile of your clothes and next thing you knew, you were being pushed down onto a nearby pile of soft furs. 
He pinned you down by your throat, as he hovered above you, leaning over with his metal hand wrapped around your neck firmly while he stared down into your eyes. “You look so beautiful like this.” 
You gave him a smirk and said, “It’s your turn. I want to see you.” You wanted to see the ink on his skin, trace it with your finger. You wanted to see him naked on these furs with you. You had never longed to touch someone like this before. 
Bucky held your stare, arrogant grin on his face as he pulled away to take off his tunic and lower his pants. 
You let your eyes feast on him. Ink covered more skin than you thought, but it suited him. He looked every bit the fierce Viking he was. You wanted to take your time and admire the artwork on his body but… later. Right now, you wanted him. 
You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him closer, pressing your mouth to his and kissing him deeply. “I want you,” You whispered again. 
“I know, sweetheart,” Bucky’s hand was back around your throat as he growled into the kiss, “I know.” 
Guess he could take his time and caress every inch of you like he wanted to later, right now though, he needed to have you. He was hungry for it. So he pulled away from the kiss, parted your legs and slid a finger inside you, reassuring himself that you were ready for him. 
Bucky groaned when he found that you were dripping for him. “All that for me?” He teased, settling in between your legs and pressing the tip of his cock against you. You gasped and whined as he slid the tip of it up and down your slit. 
“Please,” You begged, whining. “Hurry up or I swear to gods I will make sure your house is always freezing throughout winter.” 
Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “No need for all that, little witch.” He whispered as he pushed his cock into you, stretching you out in a way that made it hard for you to even think about anything else. 
“Do I feel good inside you?” He questioned, teasing and knowing full well you weren’t in a headspace to answer him. His hand was around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you that he knew you couldn’t even think straight. 
And fuck did he feel good snug inside you. You just whimpered in response, staring up into his pretty blue eyes. “More,” You whispered, “I want more.” 
He smirked, digging his knees into the furs before he pulled out and pushed back into you. He set a hard and fast pace that made your head spin with pleasure. He was just as passionate as you expected him to be, his kisses were messy and his grip on your body was tight. He growled and moaned against your mouth as he sped up into you. 
You were a moaning mess under him. Your legs locked around his waist as he pounded into you, “You feel so good,” He said, “Look at you, all wet and open for me.” He slowed down for just a moment, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust it. “Is this what you wanted? Hmm?” He asked, slow fucking you until you felt a tear escape your eye. 
Fuck, he was keeping you right on that edge. It drove you mad. 
“Tell me, sweetheart.” He kissed along your jaw, nibbling on your skin. “When you walked all the way here tonight, wearing basically nothing as you knocked on my door in the middle of the night,” He chuckled, “Is this what you wanted? To be full of my cock?” 
You nodded, more tears falling down. It was so good, almost overwhelming. His words, his deep voice, the heated look in his eyes as he fucked you slowly, his weight on top of you, his warmth… 
“Yes,” You whispered, “It’s all I wanted.” 
Bucky sped up again, taking you by surprise and you couldn’t help the sinful moans that escaped your lips. He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen instead, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. “Well there you go,” He said, as if taunting you, “Here I am. Deep inside you.” He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “Just how you wanted.” 
You whimpered desperately as he fucked you deeper. You felt your walls clenching around him. You felt the familiar feeling, the pressure down there just waiting… waiting to explode. Your back arched off the furs as he brought you right to the edge again before slowing down. It was brutal.  
You gasped in shock, and the now ruined orgasm. Bucky smirked. “That’s punishment,” He said, “For talking to other men right in front of me.” 
You frowned, “You’re cruel.” 
Bucky kissed you one more time before he flipped you around and pulled you onto your knees and pushed into you again from behind. You moaned out loud, not expecting that but welcoming the feeling of being full again. 
You laid your cheek down on the furs, the softness of them a stark contrast to how rough Bucky was being, handling your body like you were just a toy. It made you smile in pure bliss as he gripped your hips and slammed in and out of you incessantly, sighing and groaning in the process. 
More tears escaped your eyes as the pleasure became too much to handle. You felt the pressure at your core forming again as Bucky pounded into you mercilessly, fucking you like an animal. Bending and contorting your body however he liked. Pressing your head down as he sped up into you until you came, crying out loud and clenching around him so hard it took him everything not to finish inside you. 
He quickly pulled out and came all over your lower back and thighs. He took a moment to admire all the marks he’d left on your skin before pulling you into his arms as he laid down beside you. 
You placed your ear right above his heart, listening to it gradually calm down like yours did. Only then did you have enough energy to keep your eyes open and admire the ink on his skin. You traced the closest one with a finger. 
“A dragon?” You asked. 
Bucky chuckled softly. “I like to think they might have been real at some point.” 
You pulled away, holding yourself up using your elbow. You looked down at Bucky and said, “Of course they were. They were magical beings, they got along well with witches and warlocks in fact.” 
Bucky looked pleasantly surprised. “You are so full of secrets.” He said, lifting a finger up to your face and gently traced the shape of your mouth. “Tell me more,” He pulled you back into his arms, nuzzling your neck and making you laugh, “What happened to the dragons?” 
— 
Sleeping in each other’s beds became part of the routine. 
Some nights he would come over after the village had gone dark and quiet. Other nights you’d go over to his place and stay till early morning. 
Nobody knew about you and Bucky, except for Steve and Sam who couldn’t stop grinning like mischievous devils each time they ran into you. 
Days passed this way. The weather got colder, and you kept the village in perfect shape. The rivers kept flowing even though they should be frozen. The lake as well. The crops stayed healthy. As did the cattle.
Your magic had created an invisible dome over the entirety of the village. A vast dome that only you could see. 
The people were safe from the intense cold and they were warm, fed, and happy. 
But doing all that always made you extremely tired. Usually you’d hide it well behind faint smiles and blame it on it being a long day. But even at night you had to use your magic to keep the dome intact. And although you did your best to hide it, sometimes your weariness would show. 
Like the one time when Bucky caught you by the lakeside late at night. 
You were sitting on the jetty, looking down at the dark water. The moonlight made the surface shine, and just beyond the lake, right where the dome ended, you could see the harsh winds of the blizzard that you were currently keeping away from Bucky’s people. But from within the dome, no one could even hear it. 
And just when you thought of Bucky, you heard him walking on the jetty and on his way to you. 
“I looked for you everywhere.” He said, sitting down next to you on the edge. “Are you alright? You never come here this late.” He sounded genuinely concerned. 
You smiled at him, his pretty face glowing under the moonlight. Then you pointed at the blizzard, and Bucky swore under his breath when he saw what was happening beyond the dome, “I came to make sure everything was safe.” You said. “I had to draw some of the runes again.” Then you added, “Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” 
Bucky loosened the furs around his shoulders and opened his arms for you to snuggle up to him. 
You gave him a smirk as you slowly scooted closer to him, “I can keep myself warm, remember?” 
“Yeah, but there’s nothing quite like body heat.” He teased, wrapping his arms and the furs around you, holding you close to him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek softly then said, “You seem tired. I didn’t realise magic would take such a toll on you.” He sounded a little embarrassed. 
“Hey,” You placed a gentle hand on his rough cheek. “This is how it is. Magic has a cost, it feeds on my energy and that’s just how it works. I should be okay after a few hours of sleep.” You smiled up at him. “Can I ask about the arm?” 
He smiled, tapped you on the nose with his metal finger and said, “Bravery has a cost, my lady.” You laughed, and he eventually told you the story. And by the time he was done, he noticed you were just about to fall asleep. “Hey, come on. Let’s go to bed.” 
You let him help you stand up and said, “I’m tired tonight, maybe–,” 
He cut you off. “That’s not what I meant.” He pulled you closer and kissed you gently, “I won’t do anything, I just want you in bed with me. You’re doing so much for us, let me take care of you and do what I can.” He added, pressing another kiss on your lips, “Please.” 
You smiled and gave in. 
And turns out, sleeping in his bed, in his arms was enough to recharge you. 
— 
One day, a messenger came with urgent news for Bucky. 
A little far from this village was another one, and the news said that their Chief had died leaving behind no one to care for the people. Since Bucky was the closest, they were begging him to help them last this icy winter. 
Bucky held a meeting with his inner circle – his friends, and now you as well. Everyone gathered near the fire in the middle of Bucky’s home. Outside, the weather was getting colder. Your magic kept everyone here comfortable but those people who had asked for help… they wouldn’t last long. 
“We can’t help them.” Bucky said, surprising everyone in the room. 
Tony, the one who created weapons for every warrior in the village and also part of Bucky’s inner circle, spoke up first, “What do you mean here, Chief? Those people will die.” 
Steve nodded, agreeing, “There are children, cold and starving. We can’t leave them.” 
“Think about it,” Sam said, “We could have more people in our army to fight for us, with us.” 
Bucky stopped his slow pacing, then turned to all of you. “How are we going to care for these people? I mean, I guess we’ll have enough food for everyone but what about shelter?” 
Peter, Tony’s apprentice, spoke up this time, “We have enough material to build houses. I mean, we could always pause on the boats for now and use those materials for houses. You’ll have to go bring the people over anyway, and by the time you’ll be back I suppose we could have houses ready by then.” He looked over to Tony for approval. The latter nodded in agreement. 
“That will cost too much.” Bucky said. Then sighed. “I have to care for the people here.” 
You spoke up this time, “I could help.” You said. “I have more gold than I could ever use. And I could help with the building, and–,” 
Bucky cut you off gently, “No, I cannot ask you for all that. You’re already helping us, and this wasn’t part of our arrangement.” He paused for a moment, only the crackling logs filled the silence, “Besides, I’ve seen what using magic constantly does to you.” 
You rolled your eyes, “That’s just how it works,” You repeated. “It’s like when you complain about being tired after a whole day of training. Doesn’t mean you won’t ever train again.” You reasoned. “And as for our arrangement, I agreed to help. So let me.” 
Bucky sighed again, walking over to you as if the rest of the people in the room didn’t exist. Honestly, the moment you stared into his clear blue eyes, it didn’t matter who else was in the room. 
“It’ll wear you out.” He said softly, almost in a whisper. 
You gave him a faint smile, “Guess you’ll just have to take better care of me then.” 
He was about to reach out and cup your face in his hands but then Steve, Sam, and Tony all cleared their throats to get your attention back on the current issue. You avoided all their eyes awkwardly while Bucky smirked shamelessly. Peter just seemed confused. 
“Fine,” Bucky said. “We’ll bring the people. We’ll take the boats.” He announced. “We leave today itself.” Then he proceeded to assign the work of building additional houses over to Tony and Peter. Sam and Steve, along with other warriors, were going with Bucky. 
Then the men left, Tony and Peter went to gather people to help them start building immediately and Sam and Steve went to get the other warriors to prepare for their journey. Once they were out of the house, Bucky pulled you close. 
“That was generous of you.” He said, nuzzling your neck and kissing it. “I’ll be gone for two weeks at least, you know?” He said. “I’ll miss you.” His lips brushed along your neck, stopping at the corner of your mouth, “I’ll miss this.” His arms tightened around you, making you gasp. 
“I’ll miss you too,” You said, pulling away to look at him. “The sea will be rough,” You said, “Take this.” You took the crystal necklace off of your neck and put it around his, hiding it under the layers he wore. “That should keep you safe.” Then you looked around and said, “You should start packing your things. My magic won’t work given the distance so you’ll need more furs to keep you warm.” 
He looked at you with soft eyes. “Usually no one fusses over me like this.” He said, “I like it. I like it a lot.” 
You smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “Now hurry up. Those people need you.” 
“Hmm,” He leaned down for a kiss again. “If anyone touches you while I’m gone I will behead them.” He said, half-joking. “One more thing, I want you to stay here while I’m gone.” He said, referring to his house. “Sleep in my bed every night. Oh and think of me. Miss me. A lot.” 
You laughed. “Understood, Chief.” 
— 
You went to see Bucky off when he left later that evening. He looked like a King and his armada, setting off for battle. 
He was barely out of your sight and you missed him already. You whispered a prayer to the strong winter winds, telling them to keep him safe until he comes back. 
For the entirety of the two weeks which followed, you worked harder than ever. The dome, the crops, the cattle, the rivers and lake, and now the construction. Your magic fortified the wood used for the new houses, all the gold you had accumulated over the years helped the village immensely. 
The people were so grateful. And you did your best to keep their spirits up while their Chief was gone. 
It made you feel all warm inside whenever people would gush about how incredible of a leader Bucky was. You wondered if he knew his people loved him so much. Then, almost always, quickly followed by that warm fuzzy feeling was intense worry. 
You never had anyone to worry about this much. So this was new for you. 
By the end of the second week, each morning you’d wake up and go by the beach to see if you could see the ships coming. They didn’t. 
You slept in his bed like he wanted you to. And that just made things worse. Because now not only did you worry about him, but you missed him like a mad woman. His scent was all over the bed and the covers. 
But then one morning, as you went to the beach to check, you saw them. The ships, tiny little dots near the horizon. They were coming back. He was coming back. 
Great timing in fact because the houses were just done building as well. And the crops had just been harvested. 
Some hours later, the ships docked. And the new people had arrived, with their entire lives packed into trunks. While everyone showed the new ones to their houses, you looked for Bucky. You couldn’t even hide the smile on your face as you spotted him, running to him. 
Bucky smiled as you ran into his open arms, hugging him tightly. You didn’t see the approving smiles on the faces of people around you, all you cared about was that Bucky was here, safely. 
“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” He whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ve missed you.” 
You pulled away to look up at him. “You’re back.” You whispered, delighted. 
He cupped your face and leaned down to press his forehead against yours, sighing. “I wish I could take you to bed and show you how much I missed you, but…” 
“Later,” You finished his sentence. “There’s a lot of work to be done right now.” 
He nodded. Then you felt something moving near your ankles, getting tangled up in your flowy cloak. You looked down and saw a small ball of white fur. Bucky chuckled as you bent down to pick it up. 
“The mother and the rest of the litter didn’t survive the cold,” He said, “But I found this little guy as we were evacuating the village. He was hiding under a pile of hay, all hungry and trembling. And I thought, who else would take better care of him than a certain generous witch I know?” He explained, a little flustered, ”So I brought him along. For you.”  
You looked at the fluffy, white wolf pup in your hands. You already loved him with all your heart. Then you looked up at Bucky again, “Thank you. I love him.” You said, kissing him on the cheek, “And thank you for not leaving him behind.” 
He smiled, “Oh well,” He looked around to see his people helping their new guests get off the boats, offering to carry their luggage for them. He looked beyond proud. “What’s one more addition to our village?” He shrugged, smiling at you. 
It took some hours, but by nightfall everyone had a bed to sleep in and roof over their heads. Bucky was so pleased he insisted they celebrated this feat. Plus he wanted the new members to feel welcomed and comfortable so he held a feast. 
Food and ale makes everyone feel at home, he said. 
So the feast was held. The village centre quickly became a vibrant, bustling scene. And the music was the best part. You had travelled to so many places but you had never heard such rich music and singing. 
As you walked around, enjoying the atmosphere, everyone thanked you for your help. Usually by this time well into winter, food was always scarce. But with you and your magic here, everyone was happy and their bellies were full. 
You caught Bucky’s stare from across the crowds of people a lot of times. His heated stare that held promises which made your face feel all hot and made your body tingle. But he was busy catching up with his people right now, he made sure to speak with each and everyone of the new members of his village, he spoke with the kids and promised them that they would be restarting training soon. He even held some of the babies that had been born while he was away. 
And you watched him with fondness. Watched how he smiled, watched how he let the kids mess with and admire his metal arm, watched how gentle and kind he could be, as well as how stern and assertive. 
And then he caught you staring. He smirked at you while you pretended that your entire being didn’t come alive under his attention. You tried to hide the way you clenched your thighs together as he began walking over to you, finally. 
The music rose to a crescendo as he made his way to you. Tall, strong, with a confident and slightly arrogant gait. He stopped when he was right in front of you, the lit torches made his skin look golden, and his eyes… oh his eyes. 
His metal head reached out to touch your face, slowly caressing your warm cheek. “Did you get a chance to eat?” He asked. 
You nodded, lost in his eyes. You didn’t even remember what you ate, if he asked you you wouldn’t know. 
“Good. Then let’s go.” There was enough raw desire in his voice that it made you move immediately. 
As you walked you asked, “Won’t they notice you’re gone?” You referred to the ongoing festivities. 
Bucky smirked as he took your hand in his, the two of you making your way through the dark, to his place. “Judging by the way you threw yourself into my arms earlier, I think they expected us both to disappear at some point.” 
After the short walk, you could still hear the music from the feast even after making your way into Bucky’s home. You could hear some vocalising, and it sounded… magical. Raw. Intense. Much like the look in Bucky’s eyes. 
“I see you did sleep here.” He noted, appreciating that you did as he’d asked. 
You took your cloak off near the fire and then followed Bucky into the sleeping area. “It was the closest I could get to you while you were gone.” You whispered, taking the layers of fur off of him. You carefully placed it down and began undoing his tunic. “Your bed smells like you.” You said, “Some nights I couldn’t sleep until I made myself come while pretending it was your hand touching me.” 
A sound resembling a growl left his mouth as he grabbed both of your wrists in one hand, ceasing your movement. “Show me.” He said, low and deep, “Show me what I missed.” 
A sly smirk formed on your lips, “Sure you don’t want to do it yourself?” 
He shook his head. “I want to see.” 
You turned and gave him your back, “Undress me then.” You expected him to undo the laces and buttons. But no. You felt something cold against the nape of your neck, and then the sound of fabric being ripped filled the room. 
You gasped in pleasant surprise. He’d torn your dress off instead. With the dagger. You let the ruined dress fall to the ground and faced him again, naked because you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments, “That was one of my favourites.” You said, looking into his lust-drunk, hooded eyes. 
“I don’t care.” He answered, truthfully. Stepping closer he raised the dagger up under your chin, pressing it gently against your skin. “If it were up to me, I’d keep you naked in this bed at all times.” 
You giggled. 
“Hurry up,” He said, “Show me.” His voice was a mere whisper. 
You could still hear the music and the singing in the background as you held his stare and laid down on his soft bed, on your back. He stood at the end of the bed looking down at you like an old god looking at a sacrifice. With hunger in his eyes like you’d never seen before. 
He watched as if in trance, as you bent your knees and spread your legs. His breaths got deeper as he watched how wet you were, your finger slowly sliding up and down your slit. He inched just a little closer as you began gasping and whimpering, your finger slipping in and out of you. 
Your other hand toyed with your nipple, twisting and tugging. You held his dark stare as you moaned, back arching off the bed, the slightly chilly air hit your bare chest and caused your nipples to erect even further. 
“Oh gods…” Bucky whispered, watching as you put on a show. Watching as you whined in pleasure as the pace at which your fingers effortlessly slipped in and out of you increased. You looked down and saw the bulge in his pants. He was barely holding back. 
The way he watched you, the feeling of anticipation knowing he would fill you up soon, all of it made your heart race. Outside, the music rose to a crescendo again and you moaned louder, fingering yourself faster, the palm of your hands rubbing against your sensitive clit over and over again as your middle finger slipped in and out of you. 
You gasped, “Bucky…” You moaned quietly under your breath, imagining it was his fingers that were touching you instead of your own. “I need you…” you mumbled in the haze that you were in, “Please… I need you.” 
He wasted no time in grabbing you by the thighs and dragging you to the edge of the bed as he knelt to the ground. He placed your legs over his shoulders and leaned down to kiss your belly. He was rock hard, barely able to think straight. But fuck he needed to hear you moan as you came. 
“I fucking missed you,” He mumbled as he kissed around where your shaky fingers were buried in your wet cunt. “Let me taste you.” He whispered before gently slipping your fingers out of your hole and into his mouth. He sucked on them like they’d just been dipped in the sweetest honey. 
“Oh fuck…” You moaned, looking at him. The great Chief, kneeling in between your legs, sucking your taste off your fingers… it was heady. “Please,” You murmured again when you noticed that he was teasing you, keeping you waiting on purpose. 
He let go of your fingers, smirking as he looked up at you. “I’ve been wanting to taste you.” He whispered, his warm breath making you squirm. Chuckling at your restlessness, he parted your folds and buried his mouth in between them, eating you out like he was a starving man and moaning at your taste. 
Relentlessly, passionately. His warm mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked on it occasionally. His tongue teased your entrance as he took his time to feast in between your legs. 
Your fingers slid into his hair, it had gotten slightly longer you realised as you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you. 
“So this is what you did, huh? While I was away, rescuing people and fighting rough seas…” His tongue slowly circled around your clit and he earned more and more moans out of you. “You were here, touching yourself.” 
Your legs trembled as he locked his arms around your thighs and pushed your core further into his mouth and made you cry out of pleasure. You whined. “Please, Bucky…” 
He chuckled, darkly. “No.” He pulled away, licking his lips. “Not so easily.” 
He stood up, got rid of all his clothes before climbing into bed with you. His glorious, inked, naked body hovered above yours as he looked down at you with nothing but fondness and desire in his eyes. You looked down, whimpering at the sight of him stroking his hard cock, it was leaking already. 
Bucky looked down at you and smiled before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” 
You cried out, “Yes! Please, Buck–,” 
He cut you off by sliding into you, filling you up. You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly and he growled under his breath as he filled you up entirely. “Look at me,” He said. When you did, he smiled and laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head as he sped up into you. “Fuck,” He swore, “You feel like you were made for me.” 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head once he started rocking in and out of you with your legs locked behind his back. He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you hard and fast. 
The music outside felt like it echoed inside your head. It made your heart race, like a soundtrack to this ethereal union. 
“Tell me you belong to me,” He whispered, lips brushing against yours as his cock stroked your inner walls perfectly. “Tell me you’re mine.” 
“I’m… I’m yours,” You said, breathlessly. 
“That’s right,” He breathed against your mouth. “All fucking mine.” He repeated, kissing along your skin and moaning into your ear, “Fuck, you feel so good.” He said as he sped up again, fucking you nice and deep to show you that you belong to him. “Come for me,” He said, knowing he wouldn’t last too long, “Come on sweetheart, come for me.” 
You cried out as you did, coming undone as he kept pounding into you until he finished inside you. Bucky nuzzled your neck, kissing your skin as he caught his breath. You wrapped your arms around him lazily, feeling his heart racing just as fast as yours was. 
He sighed in bliss as he finally laid down beside you, taking you with him so more than half of your body was on top of his. He kissed the top of your head and whispered, “I missed you like a madman.” 
You smiled, kissing his damp skin as you replied, “I did too. It felt… empty without you.” You lifted your head up to look at him. “Your hair is longer.” You pointed out. 
Bucky chuckled, “You like it?” 
You nodded, “It suits you.” 
He smiled, caressing your cheek again. “I like you in my bed.” He murmured. 
You smirked, lifting yourself up to straddle him properly. You grabbed his semi hard cock and slid it inside you again, gasping as it went in easily. Bucky groaned in pleasure, his hands holding you by the waist, ready to lift you up and down his cock. 
“I really like me in your bed too.” You said, and began riding him until you both came once more.
And so, winter passed by. 
You kept everyone safe and warm. Your bond with Bucky was not a secret anymore given you were always seen together. Judging by the smiles on people’s faces when they saw the two of you together, you’d say they were more than happy for Bucky. 
You spent more time in Bucky’s house than the one you were assigned when you first got here that Bucky suggested you move in, and let someone else have the other home. 
“I like having you in my home.” He said one night as he pulled your worn out, bare body into his. He kissed your shoulder, and made sure you were properly warm under the soft furs, in his bed. “Come live with me.” 
So you moved in. 
Your days started and ended with Bucky. With his soft, loving, often demanding touch. His merciless and passionate kisses. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 
He was a stern, just, and caring chief to the rest of the village but only you saw the softer side of him. 
The way some evenings he would lay his head in your lap and grumble until you played with his hair until he fell asleep. 
Or how much he loved it when you braided his hair, he’d wear it proudly. 
Or how he always gave you the best bites of food when you dined together. 
The way he would always make sure you had enough fur and blankets on your side of the bed at night. 
Or how he’d always accompany you when you took your little wolf for walks in the woods. 
Or how he’d often tempt you into going for midnight swims with him at the lake. How he’d kiss you under the moonlight, smiling like a lovesick young boy instead of the great chief he was. 
During those moments, you often wanted to freeze time and just stay with him forever. 
Forever… but that wasn’t possible, was it? 
The weather, naturally, didn’t stay freezing cold. It got warmer, and warmer as winter faded into a gentle, barely there spring. 
Your little wolf grew, and kept growing. Time, you realised, moved and with it came time to say goodbye. 
Winter was nearly over. Everyone knew, everyone could see it. But nobody said anything. You were still greeted with the same grateful smiles and infinite gifts whenever you stepped out. Steve and Sam never mentioned it, they kept filling your days with stories of their youth and more laughter. 
Bucky, it seemed, had forgotten all about what the end of winter meant. 
And it hurt you more than you thought it would when it came time to confront him about it. It took you two days to build the courage to break both of your hearts. You didn’t want to leave, but you had to, didn’t you? 
He was home early that evening, in a good mood too. As soon as you opened your mouth to say something though, he announced, “I’m going for a swim, come with me?” 
You shook your head. “I don’t feel like it. You go ahead.” 
He smiled, kissed your forehead and left. The sunset as soon as he was out of the door. He’d been going on a lot of swims lately, which again indicated that the weather was getting warmer. 
You waited for him to get back. Your heart breaking in the meantime. 
“We need to, um, talk.” You said, once he’d put on clean, dry clothes again. You watched as he dried his hair with a piece of fabric as he turned to face you. 
The buttons of his tunic undone with the tattoos on his chest peeking through, his hair was a damp mess, his blue eyes shining. He was so beautiful. So beautiful it hurt. 
“What about, sweetheart?” He tossed the fabric aside and placed his hands on either side of your waist. “Everything okay?” 
You looked up at him. Didn’t he notice? Couldn’t he see you were wearing the same cloak you wore the day he met you? Couldn’t see you were ready to leave? You spoke with tears in your eyes, “Winter is nearly over, Bucky.” You whispered in a shaky voice. 
Silence. Only the few nearby torches. And the crickets outside. 
Bucky clenched and unclenched his jaw. You could see it through the stubble on his cheeks. “What do you mean?” 
He knew what you meant. You could tell. He was just giving you a chance to rectify what you said. But you didn’t. Instead you said, “Winter is over, it’s time for me to go.” The tears fell. Hot and burning, much like the tension between the two of you even after all these months. 
Bucky was quiet, then he let out a humourless chuckle. “What are you saying? You want to leave me?” 
You sighed as he made this difficult for both of you. “You know what I mean. We had a deal, remember?” You swallowed a sob. “We–,” 
“I swear to gods,” He cut you off, pulling you closer and growling, “Do not fucking test me right now.” 
More tears fell down your face. “Bucky…” You whispered. “I can’t stay here. You know that. It’s what I do, I help people. It’s what I’m meant to do with this…” You sighed, “This magic.” 
“Who said that?” He argued. “Who said you couldn’t choose what made you happy? Who said you had to keep wandering? Huh?” He leaned closer, the tip of his nose touching yours, “Who said you can’t stop once you found a home? A real one?” He gently kissed the corner of your mouth. “You have a home here, you have me. Stay.” 
You breathed in the manly scent of him. Felt the roughness of his stubble against your skin. Felt his body heat. Why couldn’t you stop? Because it scared you. “I can’t.” You mumbled, even as your heart screamed stay, stay, stay. 
Bucky pulled away. His face was stone cold. Emotionless. His hands left your waist and clenched into fists as he stared at you. As Chief, he wasn’t used to people disobeying him. 
“Fine then,” He spoke with a bitter voice. “You want to leave? Then I’ll follow. And my people will follow me no matter where I go.” He spoke with a confidence that only a true leader can have. “So wherever you go, you’ll find me behind you. And a whole village behind me. Is that what you want?” You could hear the stubbornness in his voice, the determination. The promise. 
“You can’t.” You reasoned. “You have a duty here, Bucky. My work here is done, I lifted the dome yesterday and no one even noticed. That just goes to show I’m not needed here. You have a life here,” You said, “Not me.” More tears streamed down your face. Your mind and heart were screaming in contradiction. 
Bucky just stared at you, his heart slowly breaking. Then he said, calmly but fiercely, “I have nothing without you. Nothing.” He stepped closer to you again, “You made me feel alive again, you made me feel like I was more than just a chief, like I was a man again. Just a man who is madly in love with the woman of his dreams.” His words made you weak. “You’re… everything. Don’t leave me.” He pleaded, quietly. 
You couldn’t help but hide your face in his chest as you sobbed. He cradled your head, kissing the top of it. 
“I will send word.” He said, as you sobbed quietly. Your tears drenching his tunic. “People will know where to come find you if they need you.” He reassured you. “Stay with me, be my wife, let’s have children together,” He cupped your face and made you look up at him. His ocean blue eyes staring down loving into yours. “Let’s have a life together.” 
You sniffled. “You’re awfully stubborn.” You said. 
He smiled, his own eyes tearing up. “And you love me for it.” 
You sniffled again. “I do.” You confessed. “I do love you.” 
“And I love you.” He leaned in for a gentle kiss. “Stay with me. You have a home here.” He whispered against your lips. “You’ve helped plenty of people all over this world. It’s not selfish if you choose to settle down now and choose your happiness.” 
“I’m scared.” You admitted. “I’ve never… I don’t know if I can… I mean, I don’t know if–,” 
He cut you off with another loving kiss. “Shh, I’ve got you. We will figure it out. Together.” 
You gave him a faint smile through the tears as you nodded. “Together.” 
And choosing to stay back with him, for him, ended up being the best decision you’d ever made. 
Fin.
3K notes · View notes
palajae · 3 months
Text
a day for you.
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PAIRING... ni-ki x reader | GENRE... established relationship! au, fluff, comfort, romance, angst | WC... 0.4k | "how can my day be bad when i’m with you?"
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it was pouring. the whole week had been gray and cloudy, all leading up to the outburst of rain today. the downpour of the world’s tears. 
maybe the weather had taken its effect on you, but you simply needed a break. you needed a break from life, the world, everything. 
your feet kick up dirtied puddles, leaving dark shadows in your footsteps. 
you had pulled up your hood, but somehow you still felt soaked through to the bone. your legs were dragging you on their own accord, and you had no energy to resist, only to follow. 
somehow you find yourself in front of a door, fist raised up to knock. 
it takes only two raps for the door to open, meeting surprised eyes that shift into welcome ones. 
“hi. i didn’t know you were coming over today.” 
it takes a moment for you to find your voice.
“sorry.”
“bad day?” 
you nod and that’s all it takes for your boyfriend to pull you into his comforting arms. you simply lie still in his embrace, soaking in all his warmth and comfort. 
perhaps you’re still in the doorway, but you don’t care. eventually, your arms sneak their way around his waist. 
he places a kiss on your head. you felt like a child again. 
“i wish i could make it better for you,” ni-ki’s voice comes out muffled due to his unwillingness to lift his lips from you. 
“you did,” you whisper into him, inhaling his scent. 
“how can my day be bad when i’m with you?”
“ditto.”
you raise your head, looking at him warily. “huh?”
ni-ki shrugs, “what?”
you stifle a laugh, “nothing. let’s just go in, you weirdo. i’ve been waiting for this all day.”
ni-ki fake salutes, eliciting a real laugh from you. “aye, aye, captain.” 
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a/n ▸ bc niki deserves the best and the best is the entire wave to earth soundtrack (aka my national anthem)
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647 notes · View notes
writersdrug · 2 months
Text
Nectar and Bane - Pt. 1
Pairings: Hunter!König x Witch!Reader
Pt. 2
Summary: König is hired to hunt down a pesky witch by a warlock, who paints you as the most evil thing in the past three centuries. With the promise of finding true love (or, the closest thing the warlock can offer: a brainwashed woman who is forced to dote on the hunter), König sets out on his journey. However, you aren't what he was expecting at all, and he develops a newfound obsession with making you become his.
Warnings: dubcon, mentions of rape, manipulation, kidnapping, sex pollen (kinda? If you squint? not really, but better safe than sorry), corruption kink, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of consuming human organs, unrequited pining, angst at the end, death (not for main characters), cowgirl, missionary, mating press, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, power imbalance, handjob, obsessive thoughts and behaviour (please let me know if I missed any!)
Notes: thought I'd try my hand a fantasy au version of cod, or at least of König. This is really long (over 15000 words) so I split it into two parts. The next part is pretty much done, I'm just exhausted and wanted to at least crank out half. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt 2!
ps if anyone has any suggestions or tips on how to make collages or banners for fics, pleeeaseeee lmk
translations at the end
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Watch your every step. From the moment you step foot into those woods, you can’t trust anything you see.
That’s what the sorcerer had drilled into his head before he had begun his journey. He called you dangerous, cunning… “A sneaky, meddling bitch…” he had grumbled over the table in that crowded tavern.
Two small pouches, one of silver, one of gold, sat in between the two patrons on the table. Stains of ale and coffee rings littered the unvarnished wood. The wax of the thick candle had trickled down and formed small, hardened pools at the base – its flame flickered weakly, casting unflattering shadows against the man’s weathered features, and making the portentous hood covering König’s face only that much more ominous.
He'd listened warily as the sorcerer described the witch – you. Tens of centuries old, too much knowledge and too little wisdom to use it sensibly. You take whatever you want by whatever means possible, and your favored method was using your physical assets and the promise of sexual devotion to coerce those within your web to do your bidding. “Sometimes it’s for her personal gain – sometimes, she does it for fun.” The warlock added bitterly. “Akin to a serpent, she winds you into her embrace, and then crushes your bones before she swallows you whole, saving your heart for last.” You’d done it to him, ensnaring him into your alluring trap, before stealing his spellbooks, his potions, his most prized collections… and vanishing into thin air.
An enchantress, König had concluded.
The warlock’s request? “Kill her. And be quick with it. The sooner this earth is rid of that swine, the sooner we can all rest. And, better yet – bring me her eyes! Potent things, witches’ eyes can be – of course, that is if they’re still working. If the bitch has gone blind, don’t waste dulling your dagger. A handful of her hair would do just fine.”
König had killed much worse for much less, and this sounded like it would be on the simpler side of things. A few days’ worth of hunting and a quick, efficient kill – hopefully, one of his easier jobs, although with the way the sorcerer described you, that might not be. He’d dealt with magicians before; up until now, they had been rather boring to hunt – tedious, but nonetheless, boring. Most of the time, they tried to end him with some elaborate incantation in the few seconds remaining of their life after he’d ambushed them. His silver blade would be slicing across their throats before they could utter five syllables. They were always so intent on murdering their victims slowly and in a flashy manner. With König’s preference for a more immediate result, he was usually the one collecting the fingernails, teeth, and tongues.
(Over time, he’d had noticed that it was always sorcerers ordering the assassination of other sorcerers. He wondered why they had so much of an issue amongst themselves, but he didn’t question it. Whatever kept him fed and paid for his room, he would do it.)
The picture the warlock was painting of you, however, made you seem much craftier and more calculated. You couldn’t resist the glamorous ways of murder via magic – it was written in your nature as a witch. But you played the game with your charisma and wit, too; something magic users didn’t typically rely on (half of the time, because they weren’t charismatic, nor witty). You waited until your assailant would fall to your wicked charm, before dissecting him like nothing more than a toad for your cauldron. If not an easy kill, you at least sounded like you would be an exciting one – but König knew he could get something more from this client for killing you.
“What more can you offer me?” he asked.
The warlock chuckled. “The gold is insufficient, is it?” he leaned forward and hunched his shoulders, speaking in a hushed tone. “Tell me, what do you desire? Recognition and respect? Revenge against someone who’s crossed you? To bring back a loved one from the dead? Or, perhaps, to find a love of your own?”
König’s shoulders tensed, and the rest of the warlock’s utterances fell on deaf ears. Could he possibly give him a chance to find himself someone to love? Someone that he and only he can worship? It was true that he would be happier to live alone, in whatever way that would allow him to be independent of society… but the thought of being able to live alone with someone, someone who was devoted to him, someone who could decorate his hut with signs of life and warmth, someone with a kind smile and a sweet voice, someone who he could spend hours upon hours with, memorizing each curve of their body, the taste of their nectar on his tongue…
He called it love. Others would call him insane. He’d heard it all before – how no one would ever love him, given his profession, his awkwardness in carrying a conversation about anything normal other than how sharp his knives are, and how he uses them… that, and the fact that he never shows his face (“He must be hideous under there…” they would speculate). Nonetheless, he still craved the devotion of an obedient, warm body waiting for him in his cabin at the end of the day – once he did get a cabin. Why should he be denied what everyone else wants?
He knew he was a hypocrite; he couldn’t expect someone else to be so willing to leave everything and run away with him. Not with his insane ideations and obsessions – hell, not with who he was as a person. But if he killed enough healthy rabbits to keep her fed, and if he fucked her hard enough that her eyes rolled back into her head and she couldn’t muster enough strength to escape the mattress… would she ever care about what kind of man he was?
The warlock smiled slowly. “Of course… that’s what all of you sick bastards want.” He said, leaning back and folding his arms. “If it will seal our contract, I will give you whichever woman you choose. I’ll make her yours, and only yours, with unconditional love – even for your damned soul.”
A fair deal, König had thought. Which is exactly what had him currently trudging through the dense woods, searching for any traces of a witch – a sack with two loaves of bread and some apples hung over his shoulder, along with his well-worn tashka stuffed with the coin he had earned over time. His sword was strapped to his hip in its sheath, his dagger (a short sword, when it was compared to the average person) stuffed into the lead-lined, deerskin sheath on the side of his boot; and a pelt, heavy and thick, hung around his shoulders. All he had to his name.
König had done a day of research on you – testimonies and sightings of you ghosting the perimeter of the woods at an early age, hoping to lure some poor soul away as your very first victim. “I imagine she was a succubus in her previous life,” the warlock had spoken, “maybe too much of a whore for even the devil to handle.”
He had caught you one night by luring you to his cabin with the scent of a savory meal. Guessing by your inexperience, and the way you avoided using words as you snarled and thrashed in the warlock’s grip, he assumed you had not yet reached one hundred years old. You were still young and fresh-faced, appearing no more than twenty to human eyes. “After a few decent meals, and reintroducing her to the work of her past life – she’d settled in as the perfect student. It almost felt like having a pet.” He added with a smug smile.
König questioned how happy you were with being reintroduced to the work of your past, but he didn’t comment on it.
After living with the warlock as his student and whore for a few centuries, you turned into a strong, young witch. You didn’t care to go into town, preferring to stay at the cabin and watch over the brews whenever he had to make deliveries or run to the shops. The warlock had no complaints about your desire to stay holed up in his home – fewer people to ogle at you, fewer glimpses into a more civilized life that might tempt you to run away. He’d much rather you be a brooding, antisocial bitch, than watch one of his clients stare at you with a yellowed, lustful grin, like you were some harlot in the window of a brothel.
On one particular day, without any indication of what you were planning, he had returned home from his rounds to an empty cabin – not just empty of you, but of his potion stock, his rarest ingredients, and his most prized spellbooks. He’d run into the woods in fury, screeching your name and hurling threats into the trees around him – but you were gone. Not a trace of you could be found within a five mile radius of his home.
It was like you had never been there, save the absence of his personal belongings.
In König’s opinion, you didn’t strike him as an extremely dangerous individual. Sure, the warlock had harped on and on about how cunning and deceiving you were – but all you had done was lie to him. And from the way he had described the conditions you were under, König didn’t exactly blame you for running away. Maybe this job was a waste of his time…
Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain, despite the nip of the mid-autumn air, and the fact that he was embarking on what might be one of the most treacherous endeavors of his career. He was getting a decent payout for it – that is, if he lived to finish the job. Additionally, the scenery was a comfort to his journey; wiry birch trees stood high and thickly clustered, their brown and black spots like ever-watchful eyes, staring at the gargantuan hunter as he moved. Their golden leaves mimicked the light of the sun, the real thing blocked out by the overcast skies. A whisper of wind flew by his ears, carrying down and blowing the leaves further along his path with a gentle sigh. As if nature herself was telling the world to be quiet, be still, and prepare for winter.
It was times like this where König became unsure of himself. What if he hated having someone else to care for? What if, deep down, he preferred the silence and the solitude? But then, the loneliness would strike him. The longing to be understood (if that was humanely possible), and the desire to have something warm, alive, and sentient to acknowledge him. It consumed him on those sleepless nights, perfectly warm by the hearth of whatever inn he resided at, yet so hollow without having someone to wrap his arms around.
A swaying movement in the branches above pulled him from his thoughts. Hanging down by a twine thread, tied to one of the spindling birch branches, was a tiny, burlap pouch. It reached a few feet above König’s head, and was drenched in a dark, thick liquid that dripped rhythmically onto the forest floor. Looking to where the drops landed, he noticed the matter on the ground was decaying – a steaming pile of rot was all that was left of the leaves that were once there.
He frowned. The trap was clever – for a witch in their first century. König had expected something a bit more dangerous for someone your age. Maybe the last hunter had been too gullible, and you stereotyped them to all be oafs. Or, maybe you were too old and couldn’t craft traps with the same skill and precision as your younger self.
He drew his dagger from his boot and quickly sliced the twine thread. The pouch dropped to the floor with a squelch, landing in the very puddle of death it had created. The liquid beneath it bubbled and hissed, and the bag soon dissolved to reveal its contents: bits of bone – a kind of reptilian foot, from the looks of it – dried pomegranate seeds, and a fuzzy layer of mold, all appearing to be drenched in some kind of blood.
He carefully stepped around the stinking mess, his eyes turning back onto the path to continue his hunt. He both hoped for and against finding more evidence of your existence. He wanted to get back to town as soon as he could, so he could hole himself up in an inn until his money began to run out – all the same, his mind craved a puzzle and a chase. Though, with how old you were, he doubted there would be much of a chase.
More leaking, swaying hex bags hung from branches as he trudged on, pointing him in the right direction. He didn’t bother to quiet the sound of the leaves beneath his footsteps – the rustling of the wind through the foliage was doing the job well enough. He held onto his dagger tightly, his other hand on his longsword, as he carefully toed through the dense forest. He had to be close – the smell of fennel and turmeric settled around his presence, along with the babbling of a nearby stream.
The sound of a distant tune danced through the trees. The voice was soft, yet clear, and whoever it belonged too was much too confident that they were alone in these woods. König wondered if it was actually you, and not some poor soul who had been foraging for the autumn mushrooms and berries – but he was nearly a day’s trek into the forest. No one would dare come out this far, unless they wanted to be alone. And, they were potentially hiding from something; their own past, perhaps.
He cautiously followed the sound of the tune, still disguising the sound of his own steps within the rustling leaves and wind. His heart thrummed with both uncertainty and excitement; he always did get too thrilled at the idea of a struggle and blood covering his hands. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils, focusing his attention on the voice that carried through the trees, pulling him closer and closer… He gripped his dagger tightly as he crept, reminding himself of the warlock’s warning: cunning, sneaky – be on your best wits.
The voice brought him to the edge of a clearing. The birch trees parted and encircled a few meters of earth, and a few bushes huddled along the far edge, dotted with purplish berries and thorned branches. A wicker basket, woven clumsily and rather lopsided, sat on the ground and caught each berry and branch that was tossed into it. A figure knelt in front of the bushes, carefully plucking the berries with thin, delicate fingers, stained purple from the juice of the berries, and nails that might need a trim soon, unless they were intended to be claws.
The cloaked figure confused König. The voice was too melodic, too clear and fresh for an old witch. He had assumed you weren’t much younger than the warlock, but still old. He remained a few yards away from you, shrouded by the trees and dense foliage outside of the clearing.
It was when you turned your head, dropping your handful of berries into the basket, revealing your face, that he realized how wrong he had been in his assumption.
Your skin was soft, he could tell even with the distance between the two of you. Your lips delicately moved as you sang your tune, your eyes sparkled in contrast to the dull autumn colors that surrounded you. Small wisps of your hair danced around your cheeks as the wind caressed it. Your entire body looked soft, warm, and pliable… exactly what he needed. Craved.
It wasn’t hard for him to imagine it: leaves tangling into your hair as he pressed his fingers around your neck, pushing you to the cold ground and watching as you gasped for air. He’d use his knife, but not to kill you. He’d drag it over your hardened nipples, watching them perk up even more at the prickling sensation, before he’d carve his name into your stomach. Smear your pretty blood all over your pretty face, watch as your eyes widen with horror, as you question how someone can be so deranged and cruel, how he can take so much pleasure in something so vile and horrible-
Or maybe, he could convince you that he just wants a fuck. You looked like you could use one – when was the last time you’d had someone’s lips on your breasts, or their cock in your cunt? It had certainly been too long for him… he couldn’t imagine how long you had gone without being thoroughly ravaged, living in these woods all alone. He could take care of that. He could be gentle, for a little while; holding your wrists above your head as he pushed you against a tree, whispering praise and encouragements into your ear, “… so gut, so Schön, genau so…” taking you from behind as your nipples perked up from the rough texture of the bark, listening to you whine and moan in that sweet voice of yours as he lets out months’ worth of pent up frustration by thrusting his cock into your warm pussy, over and over and over until you scream and tighten around his length, milking the cum right out of him as he fucks you deep, maybe sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck-
He growled quietly, palming his rapidly-growing erection as he tried to clear his head. Stay focused. Kill the witch, and then you’ll get what you want.
Remember the warlock’s promise.
Even if he didn’t need you to satisfy his needs, he could still make this interesting. Not like you could outrun him, anyway.
He stepped into the clearing, and as if by some ironic joke, the wind died down immediately. The crunch of his heavy boots was enough to make his presence known to any living thing within a mile radius.
Your singing stopped. You whipped your head in his direction, and immediately a look of fear fell upon your face. For a moment, the two of you were frozen in a staring contest. You reminded him of a doe, staring at the crossbow of the hunter you had noticed, wondering if this being was actually dangerous, or nothing you needed to worry about. He wondered what he must remind you of, and he wished to hear the panicking thoughts flitting through your mind.
Finally, you broke the trance – you gasped, stumbling backwards and awkwardly standing as you ripped a pathetic, little knife from your boot. You faced him and pointed the knife at him – you held it improperly, and if he truly wanted to make this messy, he could easily make you stab yourself in a struggle. He wondered what it would feel like when your nails dug into his rough skin, dragging marks down his forearms (or his back, if he played his cards right).
You pulled the thick cloak tighter around your body – you were tiny. Well, everything was tiny compared to König. But you were unexpectedly small. With the way the sorcerer had described you, he had expected you to reach his shoulders at least. But there you were, craning your neck to look up at him with fearful, owlish eyes.
“State your business!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly.
König chuckled in response. You really were too pathetic for your own good, weren’t you? He took you in – your lips were pulled into a frown, parted slightly to reveal your perfect teeth, the way the fabric of your cloak quivered where it bunched in your fist… perfectly ordinary things that ordinary people do. But, besides the fact that you were a witch, something about you made it all so captivating.
“Hey!” you shouted, bringing his eyes back to your gaze. Your fear had given way to a judgmental ire. “Gods, have you ever seen a woman before?!”
König scoffed. “Woman? Yes, of course. I’ve seen witches, too. None as young as you, however.”
Your eyes widened in panic once again. You stretched your knife out towards him as he stalked over to where you stood. “S-stay back! I’ll kill you!”
Your meek threat didn’t slow him down. He continued his advance until he had corralled you against a tree, your one hand bracing against the trunk behind you, and the other holding the knife under his ribcage. The only thing between his flesh and your blade was his linen tunic, which wouldn’t do much to protect him should you decide to stab him – but were you capable of that? Your eyes were so filled with fear as they stared at him, your chin to the sky to take all of him in. Your fingers trembled around the handle of your knife as if the prospect of having to nick him made you uneasy.
“Not with magic?” he asked, his eyes flitting to the bush next to you. He plucked one of the berries between his thick, gloved fingers, rolling the onyx sphere between his thumb and middle finger before squashing it.
You pouted (a sight König could never grow tired of). “I’m not a wi-“
He snatched your forearm, and you yelped, dropping the knife to the forest floor. His fingers easily wrapped around you; he wondered how easy it would be to break it.
“Don’t lie, now.” He ordered, his eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance. “You’re not good at it.”
He released your arms with a shove. You scrambled back with a fearful expression, swiping the blade from the ground. He watched with interest as you stood several yards away from him, pointing your weapon towards him once again.
“Fine.” You said, holding yourself a bit taller. “You’re right. What’s the crime in that?”
For a moment, König was lost. Why weren’t you trying to weaponize your magic? It was almost as if you had forgotten you weren’t a human. For someone who was supposed to be a cunning bitch, as the warlock had put it, you weren’t very smart.
“I’m not here for justice.” He replied, wiping his glove on his shirt. “Just doing my job.”
“Hunter?” you asked.
He extended his arms – gods, he could have crushed a pillar between those arms – as if presenting himself to you. “Was it not obvious?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his tone.
You huffed. “Well, you’re not a very good one. Most hunters don’t make conversation with their prey.”
Prey. He liked that you understood your position, that he was the one in charge here. Maybe you were a clever girl…
“I like to listen to the begging.”
“Begging?”
“For your life.” König folded his arms over his chest, inspecting you closely. The only thing you had to protect yourself was your cloak, and that hardly provided a shield against the wind. Even though you were obviously wary of him, it wasn’t wary enough. You had spoken too many words with the hunter, and had it been anyone else, you might have been dead long before now.
You seemed malleable – book-smart and spitfire, yet all too gullible. Easily manipulated. Just what he needed to brainwash you into loving him. Or, at least, being his pet. You’d never truly love him, he had come to learn that from experience. But maybe, if he could somehow convince you that you needed a big, scary man, who could protect you and fuck you nicely, it would be enough to make you stay. After all, you were too naïve to be alone out here, weren’t you?
Could the warlock perhaps make you his prize? It’d kill two birds with one stone, he could convince you to return whatever knickknacks you had stolen, and your presence would never bother anyone ever again – besides him, but of course, it would never be a bother to bed you every night.
Your expression turned sour. “I don’t beg.”
The tone of your voice sent a shiver down his cock. He’d have to pound that little attitude right out of you.
“Who hired you?” You asked indignantly. The knife in your hand had slowly lowered, now pointing at his feet. Your initial fear seemed to have worn off. Were you brave, or just that stupid?
“It doesn’t matter.” König replied.
“It does to me.”
“You don’t know? How many people have you wronged?”
You scoffed. “I haven’t wronged anyone. People just don’t like it when you call them out on their atrocities.”
König hummed. You had a point. “Your teacher – the warlock.”
For a moment, you scrunched your face in disgust. Teacher. Only a fool as mad as the warlock himself could consider he was any such figure in your life, other than a torturous one. Then, you sighed, shoulders slumping defeatedly, the knife now aimed straight at the forest floor. “That old toad can’t even kill me himself…” you muttered. “What payment did he offer you?”
“He promised me anything I desired of your possessions.” König replied, taking note of the change in your presence. He purposely left out the warlock’s promise to find him a “companion.”
“And what would you do with cursed fig seeds, or stag’s blood?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest (which, König noted, framed your breasts perfectly). “I have no gold – not enough to be a reward for the trouble of killing me.”
“He gave me three hundred gold coin, too.”
Your lips turned down into a scowl. “That’s all?! That absolute hypocrite!” You lodged your knife into the tree behind you and placed your hands on your hips. “I took everything from him, save that disgusting old shed he called home, and that’s all he’ll pay to kill me?!”
Your outburst pulled König from his obsessive staring. “You’re… insulted?”
You turned back to him and huffed. “Well, obviously.” You retorted. “I stole all he had to his name, and he treats me like a fly buzzing in his ear. I deserve a bit more recognition than three hundred gold coin.”
“You admit to it, then.” König said, stepping closer. You appeared to be too angry to notice how near the hunter was to you. “You are a thief.”
You laughed – a sound that König did not expect to be so sweet. “I’ve done much worse than thieving, mind you.” You shook your head. “And he’s done even worse to me.” You sighed, pulling the dagger from the tree trunk and sheathing it back into your boot.
Once again, he was reminded of how small you were. Why weren’t you afraid of him? Sure, you had the advantage of magic while he did not, but you weren’t even acting defensively anymore. You treated him like a traveler who had stumbled across your path, starting up conversation and sharing your story.
“What has he done?” he asked, his interest in you growing by the second. An outcast, despised, hated by others. He felt that the two of you were kindred spirits, and he would not risk losing a connection so rare – one he had never felt.
“You mean he didn’t even tell you?” you said, sounding more hurt than anything else.
“He did.” König sheathed his own dagger as a peace offering. “But I’m coming to think he was not entirely truthful.”
You sighed, looking down at your basket, then back at König. “I suppose I could tell you, since he brought you all this way to kill me. Walk with me – but keep your dagger away. And if you try anything, I’ll slit your throat. Understood?”
He suppressed the urge to laugh. Could you even reach his throat? “The warlock said you would lure me away to your hut, and carve out my heart.”
You huffed disappointedly, walking back to the bush near König. Completely calm, like he had only ever come up to you with the intention of finding a friend. “And yet, he’s still alive, after all the chances I had to kill him. We can stay outside of my hut, if it eases your mind. I’ll let you make your own tea, too. But if you aren’t set on killing me right this minute, I really should return to start drying these out.” You held up your basket. “Before too much time passes, and I can no longer use them.”
König had never given his prey more than a few moments to try and beg their way out of his crushing hands. He couldn’t believe he had even given so much lenience to your baseless trust in him – what he should have done was take the opportunity to grab your face and snap your neck. But he was starting to doubt the warlock’s testimony; you were a thief, yes, but had you really committed any crime? Or were you simply just taking the revenge you deserved from your captor – or, as the warlock called himself, your master?
König sighed. He gestured his hand out, signaling for you to lead the way.
You frowned. “First, give me your word.” You demanded.
“I will not harm you.” He said, with a hand over his heart. He didn’t care about forcing you to make the same promise – you were harmless enough. He did, however, make sure to avoid saying that he wouldn’t touch you. Although he was developing a few ounces more of respect for you, who knows? Maybe you would find a reason to drag him into your hut and satisfy both of your needs – and, if he was lucky enough to get that far, maybe you’d offer for him to spend the night in a warm bed, and he could be saved from sleeping on the cold earth for one night.
His word seemed promising enough to you. Threading your arm through the handle of the basket, you began marching through the woods, watching the ground carefully as you stepped over roots and twigs.
König followed by your side, watching you from the corner of his eye. You really were helpless – all it would take is a strong push from him, and you’d be tumbling down, maybe hitting your head on a stone, or rolling down the mountainside until your neck snapped. Even if the fall didn’t kill you, he could easily land one hit to your chest and pierce your lungs with your own ribs. But here you were, worrying more about the uneven forest floor than the lumbering creature by your side.
“What did he tell you?” you asked, pulling him from his fantasies. “About the beginning, when he took me.”
König laughed in pity. “He made it sound like he caught you, not that he took you.”
You sighed. “He didn’t catch me… well, I suppose he did. More like how animals are caught.” You adjusted your grip on the basket, still watching the ground beneath you. “I was the botanist’s assistant before he came along. Stared at me like I was naked. He would come more often than he needed to -  asked me where I was from, who my father was – things I didn’t understand why he needed to know. I still don’t.”
König didn’t understand himself. He continued to listen, the sounds of his footsteps drowning out your quiet ones. He began to wonder just how much of the warlock’s testimony was true.
“He came to the shop one night.” You continued to recount the story. “I was lighting the lanterns in the greenhouse. It was storming, and I didn’t hear him. He bludgeoned me and dragged me into the streets like I was some sort of animal.” You paused, turning your own words over in your head. “I suppose I was, to him.
He brought me back to his cabin – that’s when he started the curse. All I remember when waking up is feeling sick. I tried to stand, but it- everything felt heavy, like I was stuck in mud. I managed to crawl outside, and he was there. Saying my father wouldn’t recognize me, that he had killed the old lady at the botanist, that everyone would think that I had killed her… that I would be burned if I returned to the village. That I would forever be an outcast as long as I lived – as a witch. As what he made me.”
You paused again, for longer this time. König looked down at you, observing how your face twisted in… disgust? Anger? Your eyes were somewhere else, possibly somewhere where you could light the world on fire, drain the life from everyone who had ever done you wrong. König had felt that same hatred before, and he had learned to let it pass. You were still stuck there, wishing you could drive a blade into the warlock’s neck – and more.
“You stayed, then?” König asked, returning his gaze to the trees before him. “Why?”
You scoffed. “It’s not like I could go anywhere, not during the change. For the first fortnight, I couldn’t do anything but crawl on the ground and wail. And he let me – I’d get to the edge of the woods, and he’d be there to drag me back. Drug me into the hut at night and held me, fucked me, saying he was protecting me and similar bullshit. Of course, he was right; at that moment, I was as good as dead if I had ventured out on my own. And once I’d gotten my strength back, I was still a new witch. I’d never be accepted into the village – witches never are, despite the warlocks being the vile ones – and I had no idea how to live as one. So I relied on him for a while, until I knew enough to make it out on my own.”
König hummed in thought. Despite the initial desire to snatch you himself and have his way with you, his fists clenched at the thought of you being dragged around by the warlock. This life wasn’t one you had chosen, and yet the very person who had forced it upon you was killing you for it. It made something within him boil, something deep and buried, that he had thought had been tucked away for good.
You didn’t deserve any of this. He was fighting with himself in that moment, but the desire to show you what you should have been given was consuming him. He wanted to tell you that he knew what it was to be an outcast, he knew what it was like to feel lonely and crave being alone at the same time. To wish that you had the power to hurt anyone you deemed deserving of it, yet to have that someone who would never hurt you.
He would do it. He would be that person for you, he would be the one to kill for you. He knew he was getting ahead of himself – after all, he was hired to kill, you, not fall for you. And he knew it was just another one of his delusional fantasies… but he couldn’t help himself. You were like him, which was something that he had not yet been able to find. Something primal in him told him to sink his teeth in, to hold onto you until you stopped your struggling and realized that this would be good, for the both of you.
He was insane. But did it matter what he was, as long as he could give you what you needed?
“So, yes-“ you continued, bringing König out from the depths of his thoughts. “- I stole from him. Took the books he used to teach me, maybe a few ingredients for potions, a few seeds to start my own garden… but compared to what he took from me, I might as well have taken a loaf of bread.”
You stopped suddenly, and König came to a halt beside you. You nodded your head to the scene before you. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
König looked ahead: the trees parted into another clearing, larger this time. A rickety hut leaned against a wall of rock, made of thin, birch logs and mud slathered on top to keep out the wind. In the center of the clearing was a large stone, positioned near a pile of ash and rocks. A log lay near it, possibly another place for someone to sit. A small garden sat closer to the creek before your hut – it didn’t look to be doing very well, but that was expected as winter approached.
By the creek, there was a large, twisted oak. Its roots hung directly off of the bank and down into the water. Its leaves had fallen to the earth and mingled with the rest of the foliage by now – the entire thing had crimson paths winding around it, hauntingly similar to blood-filled veins. Several pieces of clothing and fabric hung from the branches and swayed in the autumn wind.
As you marched ahead, placing your basket down by the makeshift firepit and disappearing into the hut, König took a few, cautious steps forward. He was both charmed by the simplicity of it, and despondent that you were forced into this lonesome sort of life. He wanted to drag you from this measly hovel and show you something better.
But how? He was no better off than you were. All his earnings were spent on a room at the nearest tavern and a decent amount of ale to help him fall asleep. He never cared about having a home, as long as he had a place to keep out the cold. He didn’t think it would be good enough to drag you back to the village and convince you to spend the night with him in a thin-walled, noisy inn… but, even if he didn’t end up killing you today (something that seemed more and more likely with each passing second), he refused to leave you in this hell. If it was a cozy cabin, built so far away from civilization for the sole purpose of privacy and comfort, he could understand. Maybe even plead his case to you so you would let him stay. But this – this was a last resort. A broken down spot in the woods that you made for your banishment, for hiding. This wouldn’t do.
Call him insane. Call him crazy, hopeless, sick in the head… maybe his desires were founded on the thought that he would give you what he had never received.
You emerged from your hut, the thin, wooden door clanging shut behind you. You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Why was he still standing at the edge? You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and made your way over to him, your hair blowing across your face.
He watched as you stopped in front of him, your brow creased with question. Your head tilted back to look up at him, yet any traces of fear that you had shown earlier were gone. You looked at him like you’d known him for the past hundred years. It made his heart ache within his chest.
How could anyone have painted such a wretched picture of the woman who stood before him?
“Is everything alright?” you asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Like I said before, if you’d rather we stay outside-“
König interrupted you, reaching down and grabbing the sides of your arms firmly. You sucked in a breath warily, but you were still not afraid of him.
“I- you-“ Scheisse, what is he trying to say? He wanted to take you away, he wanted to show you how similar the both of you were to each other, he wanted to show you what (he thought) love was – slow, gentle, possessive, and strong. He wanted to keep you in his pocket, both to keep you safe from the world, and to make sure you couldn’t be taken from him. He wanted you, you, you –
This is insanity. He knew it. But that didn’t stop the fire in his chest, and the questionable throbbing in his trousers.
You knew. Your eyes said everything as they softened, as your lips pressed together into a knowing, sad smile. Were you going to turn him down? Would you say that you preferred it this way, that you liked being alone and living like a prisoner on the run? You took his face in his hands, and he had a foreboding sense in his gut that you might tell him to leave.
Quickly but gently, he cupped one hand at the back of your neck and pulled himself down to you, pressing his lips to yours before you could speak. It was only right, he thought, as he held the kiss – you didn’t understand that he could help you, he could build the life you deserved and keep you safe from any other hunters and warlocks. He placed his other hand on your lower back and pulled you in, moving his lips against your own and praying you wouldn’t deny him.
Like an angel answering his prayers, you tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes and kissing him back. He tugged his teeth at your bottom lip, and you so graciously allowed his tongue to slip past your teeth, letting him taste you. He whined, flooded with relief that you didn’t try to shove him away and call him deranged.
His cock was quickly growing hard, but he ignored it. Right now, he needed to figure out exactly what he needed to say to make you-
A raven’s call tore through the air, piercing his thoughts. It was much too close than any bird would naturally be.
He tried to turn his head in its direction, but you dug your fingers into his hair, making him stutter and freeze on the spot. He grabbed your hips, about to pry you away-
You pressed your lips firmly to his, and he heard you faintly muttering incoherent words against him. The world around him was suddenly showered with colors: purples like the berries that had stained your fingers, oranges like the leaves that were scattered across the ground, silvers like the thick clouds that blanketed across the sky… The black spots on the birch trees suddenly blinked and flitted across his vision; thousands of them stared at him, and he heard your sweet laughter echoing in the distance as the world spun, spun, spun…
He felt the cold earth press to his cheek, and the last thing he remembered was a sickening ache in his stomach.
He should have heeded the sorcerer’s warning.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"… so gut, so Schön, genau so…”
... so good, so beautiful, just like that...
458 notes · View notes
lucrativesoul · 11 months
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Roadstop
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summary: your car breaks down on a deserted road at midnight. you have no signal, it’s getting colder, and you are five miles away from help; you’re stranded. a stranger offers his help to you, and you find a way to pass the time.
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
word count: 7.8k
warnings: smut, oral (male recieving), bondage (very softcore), don’t trust strangers this much
a/n: i kind of hate this title and i also don’t love this one but I hope i made it work. going to immediately start one that i’m actually into. this one’s shorter than the last one, but they might all fall around the same word count from now on. again, i can’t stress how thankful i am for the love on ‘the assistant’ as well as my headcanon blurbs, 900+ notes on the fic and 300+ on the headcanons, you guys are too nice. i can’t wait to come back soon with the next fic! enjoy :3
You thought back for a brief second, clearing your head as best you could to gauge your current situation.
In the backseat of a tinted SUV, you were straddled over a thick set of thighs, that of which belonged to a man twice your build, who was bound at the wrists in front of him. The waistband of his jeans were dangerously low and his shirt was somewhere in the front seat. His breathing was shaky and he was looking at you with hooded eyelids, loving every moment of this situation.
What was the catalyst to this exact interaction? Let’s see…
Earlier
As badly as you wanted to scream, to cry, to blame everyone else but yourself, this was all on you, and you knew it. There were plenty of ways to avoid this situation.
Your car was toast. Literally. The steam was coming out in soft puffs, and you were thanking every deity up there that it was only steam and not smoke, because it was dead winter, too cold for even snow to fall, and you did not want to get out of your car. How can a car even overheat in 10 degree weather?
The road trip back home was close to three hours and you were nearing the second one when a light started flashing on your dashboard. Inclined to ignore it, but knowing the risks of doing so, you pulled over, hoping for a brief stop. 
The road was dark. It made you a little cautious to step out, but this wasn't a common place for people to pull over, but you were unsure if you could make it the next five miles to the rest stop. It was only a two lane road, trees on both sides of you. The worst, you decided, was a deer deciding to dash out and body slam you. You should move quick enough to avoid that.
Looking behind to make sure no one was suddenly driving by, you briskly opened your door and walked to the front of the car. Finding the latch and pulling it aside, you lifted the hood, and a puff of metallic smelling steam hit your face. You backed up, letting it clear, before going in again. Well, you observed, the engine is definitely still there.
Shutting it and shuffling back to your car, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Should you call a tow service? You didn't know where you were. Should you call the police? They would probably tell you to call the non-emergency line and then tell you to call a tow service. Should you call your friend? She would probably call you stupid, then tell you to call a tow service. That one was the most comfortable, though.
It was, after all, her fault you were here. It’s easy enough to cast the blame on the friend that moved this far away that you had to plan out a whole weekend just to hang out. But, once again, it was on you for deciding to leave this late.
She answered after one ring. “Hey, I’m in trouble.”
“Of course you are. What happened now?” She didn’t sound incredibly concerned.
“I don’t know. I think my car’s overheating. I’m scared to keep driving it.”
She gasped. “It’s only been like… an hour and a half? You’re probably in the woods.”
“If darkness and trees means woods then yes, that’s precisely where I am.”
“You need to get a tow, or something.” Knew it. “Do you see mile markers?”
You leaned forward in your seat, straining to see something that isn’t there. “No, I can’t see. I don't remember passing any either. I’m a few miles away from a rest stop, but, I really don’t–”
Dial tone.
Pulling your phone away from your ear to look at the screen, you wanted to scream even more now. “Fuck!” You shouted out to nobody. No service. You wasted your last few moments of contact, and now you had nothing.
You sat for a moment, stilling your beating heart and trying to think rationally. Walking was out of the question. You nearly froze just going to open the hood. You could wait for service to come back, probably in waves, you might lose a call again. It was the only choice. The call to 911 would be quick, and if you lost service, they would know where you are from pinging you, and if they couldn’t reach you again, they would come find you. It was the best you could hope for. 
Settling back into your seat, the last few wisps of orange light disappearing behind the trees, you were ready to wait. 
You dragged your hands up and down the man’s torso, watching his muscles constrict and hearing delicious whines pour from his lips. He threw his head back onto the seat behind him, unable to look away from your body for even a second, even to blink. You could see the way his jaw tensed and relaxed, you could tell he wanted to say something, but he obeyed you, and he didn’t say a word.
You knew he was staring at the way your body curved and dipped, the way your frame was visible as you had also taken your shirt off, left in only a bra and the jacket that he had put on over you. He was probably ready to cum untouched at just the idea of you wearing his jacket alone, nevermind with nothing on underneath. 
Your fingers teased at the waistband of his pants, flitting your fingertips back and forth over the button of his jeans. You could see the way his erection was pressing hard through them, twitching ever so often as you kept your eyes on him. You, yourself, were desperate to pull it out and put your mouth on it, but you couldn’t let him see that.
“It’s tempting,” You whispered into the space between you two. “I want to take it right now,” He strained again, both his hard cock and his upper body, his arms slightly tugging at the restraints. “But I need you to beg for it…” You palmed his dick hard, and his lips parted in a moan. The sound made you even wetter than you already were. His hips bucked upward, moving the both of you, but with one steady hand to the chest, he was still. 
You knew well enough that he could bust out of the restraints at any second, he was strong enough to do that and probably tie you up even more securely than you had tied him. But, the mere idea that he was sitting there, being a good boy for you and letting you have him as he was, well, that idea alone had you foaming at the mouth, wanting to take control of him.
This wasn’t the first time you were making someone sit still and be a good boy for you, but it was the first time that a man had you dizzy trying to enforce those rules in the first place.
“Tell me,” You spoke, a sultry look in your eyes, you leaned in just a tad to get in his face. “Do you need it?”
He sighed out as if he had been holding his breath. “Yes, please, I need it so bad…” He nearly tripped over his words trying to force them out, showing you how bad he needed you to touch him, to suck him off, to ride him. Yes, you needed it to, but you couldn’t give it to him without a little bit of teasing involved.
“Do you now…” Your hands wandered up his torso again, fingers gently wrapping around the base of his neck, now even squeezing, and he tipped his head back with a sigh. You peeled your hands off, tracing his shoulders, his biceps, his forearms, and settled your hands over his. “If you keep being good, you can be released and touch me.” You felt his muscles strain again. “Not yet, though.”
He swallowed with the implication. Moving your hips forward, you grinded down onto him, making him screw his eyes shut and groan. Your own heartbeat quickened at the action, and for your own sake as well, you were going to need to speed this up. 
You leaned forward once more, mouth next to his ear, lips ghosting around the shell. “You’ll be my good boy and let me suck it, won’t you?”
A shrill whine, then, “Yes, yes, I’ll be your good boy, I promise, please, you can suck it. Please,” His voice was cutting in and out between a whisper and its full depth, you could tell he was worked up, and while you loved the chase of it all, you couldn’t help but to give in and treat yourself, as well. 
Your hands fell to his jeans again, hovering over the button. You pressed a kiss into his jawline. “Good boy.”
Earlier
This was much more boring than you anticipated. You wanted to scroll through your phone so badly, but you knew you needed to conserve battery. There wasn’t much in the way of entertainment in your car, merely your overnight bag in the back with your clothes in it, your laptop buried at the bottom for work, and your water bottle which was almost empty now. You kept checking every 5 minutes for a service signal, watching as the percent in the corner slowly ticked down.
It was growing colder by the minute in your car, and you had a blanket over your lap trying to conserve what you could. You felt like you were trapped in the wild, stranded with no food, no communication, when realistically you were only a hair outside of the nearest civilization.
No one had driven by yet. It was odd for no one to be taking this road at this time, at least one or two people would be coming by, maybe even a freight truck, but so as your luck worked out, there was not a soul tonight. 
You were getting tired now, but your nerves were too lit up to allow yourself to fall asleep. Resting your head back against the car seat, staring out into darkness, your mind began to wander.
How many deer were out in these woods right now? Probably none, with the way your eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness now, you could spot one a mile away. It would be the only movement. What was your friend doing? Was she still trying to call you? Clearly she hadn’t called anyone for help, as it’s been a rough 30 minutes since you lost service, and the nearest city was just outside of where you sat. They would have gotten there in 15 max. Was it possible to freeze to death in just a few hours within the confines of your car, even though you were nowhere near that point yet?
Just then, your head shot forward as you spotted light behind you. Finally, a person! You straightened out and pulled the blanket off of you, debating if you should step out or not. That would definitely get their attention, but what if they were in the right lane and they hit you? Surely there would be no point in waiting for signal after that.
You didn’t even need to make a decision, as you put your hand on the door handle to step out into the brisk air, the headlights suddenly swerved and became aligned with you. They grew bigger and bigger, you were sure they were going to hit you, but they stopped.
You stared, scared, but knew this was your only shot at help. You stepped out.
The car that pulled up behind you stayed running, lights still shining, and you squinted to see past them. It looked like an SUV, much bigger than your own sedan, and could definitely do this drive without overheating no problem.
The driver’s side door opened, but you only saw the silhouette of it, still trying to block the headlights. You lifted your hand to your eyes to do so, and you saw a man get out. Ideally, for safety, you would have wanted a woman, but you couldn’t be picky when this was the first person you saw for almost an hour.
He walked over to you, and placed himself in front of the headlight so you could see him. Now, backlit, you could see the bulky build of a man, donned in a leather jacket with a fur collar, long hair falling down to his cheekbones, his breaths rolling off in slow puffs. He stood a good distance away from you, probably aware of how you might be feeling in this situation.
“You need help?” No shit, you wanted to answer, but couldn’t choke the words up. 
“Uh, yeah, I got stuck.” You turned briefly to look at the car. “It overheated. I lost signal to call for help.” 
The man nodded, walking around you and over to the hood of your car. He bent over and lifted it, messing around in there for a few seconds. You took one step closer to him, hugging yourself for warmth, now missing the inside of your car.
He shut it suddenly and walked back over. “You probably just have no antifreeze left. I don’t have any in my car, though. Do you know if you happen to have any?”
You stood staring at him for another second. “I’m gonna guess no, considering I’m not totally sure what you mean.” You could see him clearly now, standing in front of his headlights. His face was covered in dark shadows from his hair and the contours of his face, his deep brow casting darkness into his eyes, but you could still see they were blue. He had on a dark t-shirt, and it didn’t leave much to the imagination to picture the figure underneath. You met his eyes again.
He just nodded. “That’s alright. Not something you tend to prepare for.” He walked closer to you, but you stood your ground and let him approach you. “Want to come down the road with me to get some? There’s a 24/7 convenience just a few miles away. I can have you out of here within the hour.” You said nothing. You weren’t sure if you entirely wanted to do that, but you also didn’t want him to not come back at all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, he stuck his hand out towards you. “Leon Kennedy. I work for the state. I’m on the way home from a detail.”
You slowly extended your own hand, telling him your name. His hand was warm. You didn’t want to let go. “Detail? Are you a cop?”
He shrugged. “Sort of. I don’t want to leave you here. You should warm up.” You looked back at his car, still running, positive that the heat was blasting, and you gave in.
“Okay. But don’t think about trying anything. I can put up a hell of a fight, you know.” 
He laughed. “You have my word.”
You walked around to the passengers side and hopped in, hoisting yourself up into the surprisingly high cabin. You looked at the dash as he settled in, getting comfortable with the space. This was a much newer car than you were used to. 
His phone was connected to the bluetooth, music rumbling quietly out of the speakers. Deftones. Maybe I can trust him for now.
You subconsciously settled into the seat, the warmth enveloping you. The ride was much smoother than your own car, and you knew you weren’t going to stop the comparisons until this experience was over. You kept an eye to the left of you, still needing to be alert, you were in a stranger's car after all, even though you knew his name and job, that didn’t mean anything.
You saw him sneak a glance over at you, and you shot your eyes back down to the display on the dashboard. 
“You like them?” He hit a button on the steering wheel and turned the volume up a few notches. You could still hear him clearly. 
“Of course.” You let the silence hang for a second. Testing the waters, “If it was country, I might have had to pull a tuck and roll.”
He barked another laugh. At least he wasn’t stoic. “You’re lucky you didn’t catch me on a Wednesday, then.” You giggled. After saying nothing else, he continued. “What brought you to this position anyways?”
You sighed. “One of my good friends lives out here, about an hour away or so. I was on my way home. I know I shouldn’t have left this late, but in my defense, I didn;t know my car was going to overheat, so…” 
He hummed. “That’s not your fault. It happens. Can’t prepare for those things, again.”
You looked out the window to the pitch black nothingness as you rode past. You looked back over at him, he had his right forearm on the console while his left hand steered. “You seemed too prepared to stop, though. What if I killed you?”
His mouth quirked, and you couldn’t help but repeat it. “I could handle it if you tried to.”
You shrugged. “I don’t know, I could have surprised you. I’m stronger than I look. Men love to doubt the ones that are smaller than them.”
The smile on his face didn’t falter. “And what are you capable of against a man like me, then?” 
“I don’t think you want to find out. I’m dominating, you know.” Wait… what? You truly didn’t mean it to sound like that, but you couldn’t suck the words back up. You just furrowed your brows in frustration at yourself, and blamed the lack of sleep, the cold, your aggravation, whatever you could. Regardless of the words you couldn’t take back, Leon didn’t stop smiling. He turned his head a degree in your direction, and you could still see him out of your peripheral. 
A few minutes later, the convenience came into view and he pulled into the lot. You squinted at the bright lights of the parking lot. 
“Hang tight, I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
You only nodded, watching him stalk away into the building. You decided, seeing his full body in the lights, if you had met him under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t peg him as the helpful type of guy. His gait was strong, like it said Don’t fuck with me, or else. It almost made you giddy, knowing that you were the one being helped when he wouldn’t have otherwise. Like, in a romance book, when the bad boy doesn’t like anyone, but likes you. 
It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you had thought it would be. Maybe he was lightening up his personality so he wouldn’t scare you on purpose. If he really was just a helpful guy, the last thing he would want is to scare a young girl in the middle of nowhere at midnight. 
You were getting comfortable in the seat now, the heat wrapping around you, making you dread having to go back out into your cold car. You sighed even harder when you remembered that you still had a long ride to go before you could even go to bed.
Leon walked out of the store and back to the car, bottle of antifreeze in hand, and you tensed up when the cold air hit your skin as he opened the door.
He watched you as he lowered himself into the seat. “I didn’t mean it literally. You could have moved.” 
You shrugged with a smile as he closed the door again. “I didn’t need to.”
After a few minutes of chatting and listening to music, you arrived back at your car after needing to loop around to get back onto the right side of the road. You sighed and hit your head back against the seat of the car.
“What’s the sigh for? You get to go now.” Leon unblocked his seatbelt and took the bottle from where he left it on the console.
“Yeah, but it’s cold. I don’t want to get out.”
Leon grinned softly. “So don’t. I’ll be right back.” 
You sat and soaked up the heat while he went back over to your car, popped the hood, and disappeared behind it for a few minutes. You could only wonder how cold he must have been right now. Probably not very, maybe only his hands and neck, that jacket looks warm enough. You were stupid to only put a zip up on.
You looked down at your lap, then your gaze wandered to the interior of the car. It was very clean here. Leon did seem like the type to want to take care of his vehicle, and you were afraid to make any sort of move in case you put dirt on anything.
The backseat was empty, not even an extra piece of clothing (which there was plenty of in your own backseat), and you wondered how it was even possible for someone to be this neat.
You looked back through the windshield to see that Leon was still working in your hood. Your eyes fell lower to the glove compartment.
Realistically, this wouldn’t be the worst thing you could do right now, since you didn’t know Leon, and you could pass it off by wanting to assure yourself that you were safe, but at the same time, you felt guilty even thinking about it, since Leon had been nothing but nice to you so far. He trusted you enough to leave you alone in his pristine car while he helped you out.
That alone made you shift your gaze back up, pushed the thought of snooping down, and settled in to see Leon walking back to his car.
“Alright, you should be all set now. Hopefully it doesn’t happen again for another long while.” He shut the door next to him, and you gazed out at your car, making no moves. 
“How much?” You rolled your head over to look at him.
“Huh?” He furrowed his brow. 
“The antifreeze. How much was it?”
He breathed out a laugh, not moving much. “I don’t want your money.”
You shrugged. “You didn’t need to do this for me, this is the least I could do for your help.”
Leon simply looked at you. “I stopped because I wanted to help. I don’t want your money.”
You stared at him. His eyes were half lidded, a small smile was gracing his features. He was lit up from the light of his display screen, still softly playing Deftones. You could see the texture of his face, his lips, his hair. He was unmoving under the scrutiny of your gaze; yet so were you. 
“I can put up a fight. I’ll make you take it.”
His smile grew. “So the legend goes, as you’ve told me.” He moved his right arm to come back and rest on the console in between you two. “I’m not going to accept it, though.”
“So, what? Am I gonna have to force you to take it? Cause I’m not leaving until you do.” You settled right back into the seat. Leon kept smiling at you. “I’m defiant. And I’ll get my way. If I have to slap you around to take it.” Leon hummed and quirked an eyebrow at your words. It only added fuel to your confidence fire. “Even if I have to tie you down to prevent you from fighting.”
You looked at him with your eyebrows raised, showing you meant business, but he remained still. “Is that so?” You nodded. You saw him tighten his grip around the steering wheel, but the action didn’t frighten you. You could hear in his tone that he was mostly relaxed. You almost felt bad for being like this– it was late at night and he, too, was on his way home, but you simply couldn’t let this good deed go unrewarded.
“Open that.” His voice cut through your thoughts, his tone light, but his voice deep. You met his eyes to see where he was looking, which was in the direction of the glove compartment. See, you told yourself, good karma can aid curiosity. You looked at it and hesitated a moment, trying to scan your brain as quickly as possible to see if this would be a trick. After a few seconds, when you thought of nothing, you reached over.
Tumbling forward as soon as you swung the compartment open was a small black bag, maybe about the size of a water bottle. It stopped on the door itself, and you made no move to grab it. You simply looked over at Leon.
He was watching you intensely, his smile had disappeared, but his look was not stern or angry. It made your stomach twist with… something, but what exactly, you couldn’t tell. You slowly swung your gaze back over to it.
“I hope those weren’t empty threats you were throwing at me.” You kept your eyes on the bag, but the pieces started falling in place around you. In a whisper, barely loud enough for you to hear, Leon said, “Can’t you show me what you are capable of?”
Ice and fire ran through your veins simultaneously as you reached out to grab the bag, noticing upon touching it that it was smooth, silky. Holding it in your hands, you rotated it to find the opening. You could feel Leon staring at you. 
Finding the opening and flipping it downwards, you held onto the bag as you dumped the contents into your hands. A tightly wound bundle of black rope fell out.
You couldn’t form words for a minute, struggling to find air in your lungs. The rope was just as soft as the bag was, and you knew exactly why, exactly what the use intended for this was. You turned your head slowly to look over at Leon again. His head had rolled back to rest on the back of the car seat, but his gaze never left yours.
You found the energy to speak. “You come prepared for these types of situations?”
A slow smile blossomed on his features again. “I don’t usually need it. I guess, I never find myself wanting to use it.” He turned his head, looking back at the dash now, almost embarrassed at his words. A smirk was fighting its way through on your features. He licked his lips, then turned back to you. “I think now… maybe I do.”
You breathed a laugh, and turned the bundle over in your hands. “How am I going to hold up to my word if you want to use this on me?”
Leon leaned forward just a tad, looking you deep in the eyes. The blue light coming off of the digital display screen lit up his face, and though color was distorted, his cheeks had more hue to them. 
“I don’t want to tie you up…” You tilted your head up at the sudden realization. You held eye contact. 
“A big man like you? I didn’t imagine you’d be wanting me to do that to you…” You spoke slowly, not trying to give the impression that you were against the idea. Because, truly, you weren’t, at all. The idea of having him bound for you made your lungs cut the air supply short and had your knees weak. The power you felt sitting in this seat was immeasurable, hearing that the man who was twice your size wanted you to remove his sense of control, well, it had you thrumming with anticipation.
Leon huffed a laugh. He looked down, obviously slightly ashamed at having admitted this. “Well, you haven’t had much time to get to know me.”
You shifted in your seat, turning to him, bending slightly to get him to look into your eyes again. “So tell me, then. I have the time to listen.” 
He attempted a shrug, and leaned back at the same time so you could see his face clearer now. Some of his hair was covering his eyes, but you left it, though you did think about moving it for him. “I’m 27, I used to be a cop, still affiliated though, I do some late night stuff at the station…” He looked over. “I did just want to help you. Even if there was no one in the car, I probably would have stopped anyway.” You nodded, listening to every word. “I…” He trailed off, looking for the words to say. “I don’t… do much else. I’m not that interesting.”
“You have no girlfriend or wife?” You whispered, and though you knew, hoped, the answer would be no, you wanted to know why he thought the answer was no.
He shook his head, as predicted. “I don’t seem to have luck.” He laughed lowly, almost in a self-deprecating manor.
“Well, I hope this isn’t always how you try to pick up women, it’s kind of scary, you know.” You laughed, and he smiled with you.
“I never particularly bothered to go looking. I just figured they would come around.”
“You can’t always bet on fate like that, it might not get you anywhere.” You shrugged.
He raised an eyebrow. “It did tonight, though.”
You nodded, seeing the irony in the night. After a second of silence, you slightly shifted your position again. “So, now what? A man like you has me in your car, holding rope, that you already had in here, by the way, and you’re telling me you want me to use it to show you what I’m capable of.”
He shrugged and leaned back, breaking eye contact for a moment. A small smile played on his lips. “Well…” He sighed. “I think it will keep you warmer than you would be in your car.”
The two of you migrated to the backseat without another word. Something shifted in the air, some silent agreement had settled in between you two, and the moment the doors shut behind you, mouths on one another, heat rising, hands slithering in between, leaving no inch of skin left untouched. Leon was quick to snake his warm hands up your shirt and hike it over your head, but you let him, followed quickly by his own. His lips were soft and warm, the kiss became sloppy, greedy, you would have succumbed to it then and there if there wasn’t a promise to uphold.
You raked your hand through his hair, soft as silk, and gripped at the base of his head, making him moan into the kiss. The hand he placed on your waist gripped the flesh, and with one swift movement, you swung your leg over his to straddle him. It was already like he was at your mercy before you even took anything away from him, and it only made him look all the more desperate for you.
The kiss broke, and for a second the two of you were just staring at each other. You watched the rise and fall of his chest, which you had discovered with your hands before even seeing it, that it was incredibly toned, and you almost didn’t even want to stop touching him. HIs hands rested on your hips, holding you in place on top of him, eyes full of lust.
He shook his head slowly, forming a thought. “Are you sure you weren’t in charge of fate to make me find you tonight?”
You grinned, running your hands up his torso, you just couldn’t stop yourself. “If I was, don’t you think I would have made it a little more convenient for us?”
He sighed at your touch, head rolling backwards, closing his eyes. After a low hum of satisfaction, he replied. “I guess so… What about fate the second time around?” Your hands slid up to his shoulders, feeling the texture underneath your palms, all of the skin and bone and muscle. You pushed yourself down into his lap, already feeling his hardening dick through his jeans, making him groan louder, and you sigh in relief.
“We haven’t even gotten started and you are already thinking of round two…” You leaned in, teasing a breath along his neck, then gently licking on his jawline. The skin of your stomach felt the heat that he was producing, and you pressed your bodies together, the contact feeling like bliss.
“I already know I’ll need you again.” He said in a whisper, and the sheer intensity that it caused within you made you lean in and bite the tender skin under his jaw, and he moaned, gripping your waist even tighter.
Your hands kept running along his skin, desperate to get even more contact between you two. Your mind was getting foggy with desire, needing to be as close to Leon as possible, as much as the small space in his backseat would allow. His fingers were starting to dip below the waistline of your pants, and while you almost let him slide them past, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled it out, remembering the reason you were in the backseat in the first place.
“Don’t forget why we’re here…” You mumbled into his ear, where you were still pressed up against him. You heard him sigh, as well as felt it, and finally pushed yourself off of him.
He looked up at you from under his half-lidded eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do, then. I’ll do anything.” His voice was breathy and low, and his hands came down to rest on the top of your thigh. You sat up as straight as you could, feeling all of the control get handed over to you in that one second. Involuntarily, a chill ran through your body. Cold air had hit your heated skin as you parted, as well as the added sensations that Leon was contributing to. He pushed himself up, leaned past you to the front seat, one hand steadying you on your lower back. When he fell back, he put the shoulders of his jacket over you.
He sighed as he leaned back, examining your frame as it rested over him, straightening your posture as the warmth fell around you. “Looks better on you anyway…” 
You stared at him for another moment before your brain kicked into action. “Hold your hands out,” You whispered, and he obeyed. You reached behind you and grabbed the bundle of rope. “You’ll behave if I tie you up like this?” 
“Yes…” He breathed out, watching your hands as they wrapped and knotted the rope around his wrists, not too tight, but he couldn’t slip out of it too easily. You felt a surge of confidence at the mere premonition of you tying up a huge, muscled man, submitting to your dominance. You felt heat pool in between your legs as his head fell back, his chest flexed, and the feeling of his hard cock poking you through his pants. You were suddenly glad your car gave out on you on this random night.
This brings you to your current position. Everything playing an equal hand in getting this man in his own backseat underneath you, staring up with sinful eyes. You weren’t sure what to do first, you wanted to do everything to this man, and let him do everything to you. 
He had already professed his need for you to take him in your mouth, and you were itching to keep teasing him, but as a reward for not leaving you stranded, you were going to play nice with him.
HIs breathing was ragged and his eyes were locked on you, not daring to look away as your hands snaked closer and closer to the button on his jeans. Your fingers flitted over the tent in his pants, the sensation barely registering with him, and he bucked his hips up, but you pressed them back down by his hips. 
“Patience… patience baby…” You murmured, not looking up from where your hands were dancing around letting him loose. He whined, and the sound traveled straight to your core, making you all the more desperate. As a second reward for obeying your command, you pressed your palm fully into his hardened cock, and he groaned and threw his head back. You smirked in response, now needing the skin on skin contact. 
Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and he lifted his hips when you pulled down his waistband of both his jeans and underwear. His erection sprang out, slapping his toned stomach, and you felt saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth, slick gathering in between your legs, and Leon was almost shaking with anticipation.
You wrapped a delicate hand around his dick and he whined again, his chest shuddering with shallow breaths, sighing out profanities at the contact. He was so warm and hard in your hand, and even just the ginger strokes you were delivering had him crumbling under you.
The other hand that wasn't wrapped around him came up to brace yourself on his chest, and his skin matched the temperature of his throbbing girth. His tip was leaking profusely, and you brought your thumb up to press through it and spread it, which elicited another whimper from within him. The friction was dry, and you were sure it didn't feel the best for Leon, but there were no signs of pain in his expression, and if you kept this up long enough, he might cum from this alone. 
He was of average length, but you were never one to complain, especially not in a situation like this, and it was a benefit when the attempt to deepthroat him came along, knowing it would make it easier. You couldn’t wait any longer, and even though watching him writhe under you was more pleasure than you expected, you needed more.
You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You made a brief note of how hot it was in the car now, probably all from him, and though it was completely dark outside, you were sure the windows were foggy. He sighed at your lips on his skin. 
“Thank you for being so good to me,” You spoke softly to him, and you lifted your head to press your lips together, which he hungrily accepted. Your body fell forward slightly, your hand still balancing on his hard chest, and you could feel his arms in between the both of you, but he was not protesting. 
You pulled away, but hovered over his face and pressed your foreheads together. He whispered, “Need you so bad…” heavily breathing onto your lips. You grinned, seeing he was quickly reaching the brink of his patience. 
“I got you baby,” Another quick kiss, but you pulled away before he could deepen it. “You’re being a good boy for me.” He quietly moaned at the praise, and let you remove yourself from on top of him. You hopped off his lap and sunk to your knees in between his legs, looking up once last time to see his pretty face before ducking your head, and licking a thick stripe up the length of his cock. 
His groan was louder than it had been before, and you felt his whole body shudder with his breaths. The saliva that had been gathering in your mouth coated him easily, and when your tongue met the tip, with a swipe to collect the precum (which resulted in another sharp whine), you let all of your spit pour over your lips and leak down the sides, which you hastily swept up with your hand, and continued to pump his dick with. 
Every breath that he released was paired with some sort of noise, whether it be a groan, a whine, a whimper, anything that you were doing to him right now was causing him to quickly become unwound, and just seeing him fall apart under your hands was causing your strokes to become harder, quicker, and you stopped refusing him to buck his hips in your hand because you loved seeing how desperate he was becoming. You could see the veins in his forearms and biceps, the flexing of his arms against the rope around his wrists, and it made you weaker to know he was the only person keeping him within those restraints, and he could flip the power dynamic at any moment if he wanted to. But, he didn’t, and he let himself be dominated.
With another lick from base to tip, your lips closed over his head, our tongue dipped and swirled around the soft skin, the tangy salt of his precum coating your tastebuds, and at once, you took his entirety into your mouth. A rough gasp came from Leon as you swallowed him whole, pressing your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling every ridge and bump. Your hand continued to work below where you could reach, giving gentle squeezes, and your other hand occasionally worked his balls, causing him to throw his head back every few seconds.
You were reveling in his taste at this moment, every bead of precum that spurted out of his tip was lapped up instantly, mixing in with your spit as you took him in your mouth, your tongue studying and memorizing his shape and size. You sucked him down like it was your last moment to ever be with him, hoping you would be able to find yourself in this position with him again. 
“Fuck… fuck, you feel so good…” Leon couldn’t contain the words spilling out of his mouth, he was losing sanity it seemed with every movement you made with your tongue, every stroke your hand delivered, and every time you opened your throat to shove him as far back as you could. He would whimper every time you stifled a gag at trying to deepthroat his length, loving the way you worked past pain just to have more of him. 
You could feel so much heat and wetness within yourself, and as much as you wanted to relieve your own pressure, you knew you wouldn't be done with Leon after you made him cum.
After another hit to the back of the throat with his tip, you heard him whine out, “I’m so… I’m so close, fuck–” paired with more gasps and whimpers. His fists were balled up so tight, the rope was straining against his flexing, and his mouth hung open as he watched you take him all. 
Your hand that wasn’t on his cock was gripping his thick thigh, feeling it twitch underneath your palm. You gripped it tighter, deciding against an urge to want to edge him, not able to fight your own need to taste him. 
After another lick, you released him from your mouth and resorted to stroking him so you could talk and breathe for a moment. “How close are you, baby?” Your breathing was heavy, and you could feel the spit hanging off your lips, still connected in thin strings to his tip.
He gasped again at the feeling of cool air touching his wet dick. “So… so close,” He bucked his hips again into your hands and you let him, liking watching him chase his own release.
“Where do you want it, huh? I’ll let you decide.” You kept working his dick while he tried his hardest to contain himself.
He groaned, clearly struggling to speak through all of the sensations. “I… I, oh, god, anywhere…” His head was back against the seat again, and this time it seemed to stay there while you kept touching him. Underneath his arms, you could see his torso tensing and relaxing with the way his whole body was pulsing, and even through the darkness you could tell he was toned, insanely so, you could see the rigid outlines of ab muscles where his arms weren’t blocking them. Sharp lines contoured his hips where they dipped into his pelvis, akin to a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end that you currently had in your hands, dripping with precum and saliva. You couldn’t take it. You needed to see him blissed out.
You moved your hand back down to the base and planted your flat tongue on the underside of his cock, licking all the way up to the tip. “Come on, cum for me, I’ll let you…” With quick movements and the occasional lick to his tip, you brought him closer and closer to his release, and you could see it written all over his face whenever he put his head back up to look down at you. His brows were furrowed, his mouth open, and you could see the glint on his face from sweat. 
“Shit, oh, fuck, I–I’m coming,--” Leon rasped out as much as he could through his thick breaths, body convulsing the second he hit the threshold of his release. You felt it the same time you saw it, his dick throbbed under your palm and a rope of hot white cum spurted upward, landing on his stomach, some on his hands, and yours. You hastily pressed your mouth to the tip, feeling it coat your tongue, the roof of your mouth, drip to the back of your throat. You kept your tongue pressed to the underside of the head, feeling that, too, pulse with his orgasm. He was groaning in tandem with this happening, and you lapped up everything he had to offer, the salty, hot, viscous liquid sitting heavy in your mouth. You choked back a gag with the swallow, but it made it down, and you cleaned your hand, his twitching dick, and wherever it landed on him by licking it up. He whimpered at the feeling of your tongue on his hands.
“You looked so good for me,” You whispered into the air as you slowly rose from your position, and hovered over him. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me like this…” You looked down at him, spent, panting, eyes lazily making eye contact with you, but you could see so much more in his gaze. 
A second passed before either of you spoke again. Without moving too far, you brought a hand down to untie the rope, and his hands came to rest over your thigh once they were free. The rope lay discarded on the floor.
“We still have the rest of the night… don’t we?” Your stomach turned at his implication, he still wanted you, and he was still ready to keep going. Your hand came up to gently touch the side of his neck, thumb tracing the edge of his jawline.
“We have however long you want. I’m not done with you.” 
He grinned, his eyes opened a little further this time, and his hands left your thighs to hold your face as he kissed you deeply, blissfully ignoring your phone incessantly ringing, abandoned in the front seat.
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lalacliffthorne · 6 months
Text
🪽 if you go down 🪽
Azriel x Reader
part I part II
summary: when a mission goes awry in the cold mountains, things take a turn, and suddenly, there's a lot more at stake than planned.
notes: look who's back!! yours truly got knocked out by a flu sent straight from hell, which meant being buried in bed and no writing for what felt likes ages. and of course when I did write again, I did not focus on other WIPs - noooo, I started this! whoops *winces*. to be fair tho, parts of this had been sitting in my ideas-folder for quite some time and when I had a sudden epiphany on how to use them, I couldn't just ignore that. especially since that epiphany was so... steamy. *grins* I'm back on my bullshit, and it's a spicy one! strap yourselves in, babes. we've got incoming drama and smut. also, even after splitting the whole thing, this is still long.
______________________________________________________________
The whole thing had been a shit show even before Azriel got shot out of the sky.
Rhys had sent the Spymaster and me into the mountains, to track down a group of soldiers gone rogue that had somehow swerved into the icy wilderness of the Night Court, raiding the small villages and leaving a trail of chaos and bodies.
It was a simple track and eliminate situation; find the group, assess the situation, move in if possible and track and wait if not.
Of course that meant nothing about it was simple.
“Damn it,”, I hissed, feeling my body tremble as a gush of ice cold wind grasped me.
I squinted, trying to make out anything in the chaos of swirling thick snowflakes that stuck to my lashes and hair. My cheeks were stinging under my heavy hood, my fingers freezing even in my thickly lined gloves, my skin icy under my winter leathers that weren't enough even with a second layer beneath.
The snowed-in wilderness of the Night Court was an icy climate to begin with, hard to navigate even in good weather.
Nearly impossible in a snowstorm.
We'd lost track of the soldiers about two or three hours ago, the quick falling fresh snow covering every track within minutes, the wind destroying every trace of footsteps and scent. Even Azriel's shadows seemed to be confused, coming up empty in the snowed-in woods, like the soldiers had buried themselves to avoid detection.
I huffed, my breath a white cloud.
Wouldn't have surprised me. They were trained to stay undetected.
This was bullshit.
Raising my head, my squinted eyes darted over the grey sky, clouds of thick whirling snow over the dark pines almost conceiling the dark figure high in the sky.
Even though it was risky, Azriel had decided that trudging through the forest without quite knowing which way to go wouldn't do. He had also ignored my protest that he'd be visible like a fucking beacon up there, no cover anywhere.
I had seen the hard glare he'd sent me before launching into the air - he knew perfectly well that it was a dangerous move. But just like me, he was irritated.
Pairing us together probably hadn't been the best idea.
The shadowsinger and I always clashed. Where Azriel was cool and quiet, I was fiery and quick to charge. Where he scowled, I grinned in challenge, where his eyes pierced, mine twinkled. He was rational and controlled to no avail, and I was empathetic and following my heart. His quiet watchfulness annoyed the crap out of me, and my smirks and cheeky taunts made his eyes flare.
I egged him on, challenged him where I could, and he usually rose to the occasion, shooting right back with sharp, well placed jabs.
It didn't help that he was breathtakingly beautiful. That his low, deep voice sent tingling shivers down my spine. It was infuriating, really; how it could make the hairs at the back of my neck rise, how him towering over me made something dip over in my chest.
It was a constant back and forth between us, which had made pairing us together for a mission a risky move even before the storm had hit. Now, we'd lost the soliders, I was freezing, Azriel's shadows were frenzied and uncoordinated, like they were responding to their master's agitation –
All in all, it was a mess.
Shivering, I slowly started to trudge through the snow again. I needed to move, or I would turn into a fucking icycle.
Screw Azriel and his stern “Stay here.”; if I did, he could take me home as an ice statue.
The snow swallowed every noise, the howling wind making listening for treacherous footsteps even harder. I moved slowly and carefully, my brown leathers blending in with the tree trunks, but still far too visible in the white forest as I squinted against the onslaught of falling snow that covered my tracks within minutes.
Gods, in this weather, those bastards could be miles away by now and we wouldn't kno-
Something shivered down my spine.
My eyes darted up, and I felt something dip over in my stomach when a wave of dread washed over me - premonition, instinct; precise and never amiss.
The strange tingle of sudden knowledge that something was about to go terribly, awfully wrong.
My instincts were something that even Azriel couldn´t scoff away.
In over 300 years, they had never once been wrong.
I swung around, drawing my swords as my gaze darted over the snowed in forest in search for anything; a trembling branch, a moving figure –
My gaze rose, and my eyes found the dark silhouette high in the sky.
Everything seemed to slow, my breath coming out in heaving clouds as something swelled under my ribs.
Then an arrow whizzed through the sky and hit the dark shape square in the chest.
My heart stopped. Simply ceased beating as I felt my eyes widen and my lips part.
In complete silence, the winged figure wavered. Then more black shapes whizzed through the air like lightning, catching and ripping through his wings, and like slow motion, Azriel tipped to the side and began to drop through the sky, freefalling towards the earth.
My limbs unfroze. A jolt went through my body as a wave of all-consuming dread crashed over me, and breathing a panicked “No.”, I rushed forward. Plunging my swords back into their sheets, I dodged a low hanging branch, then I started running.
My feet flew over the snow-covered ground, clouds of white whirling up behind me as I dashed through the trees. My heart was pounding against my ribs as something seized my chest, something like a clawed fist, squeezing tighter and tighter as I ran. Stumbling over roots and slipping on the icy ground, I dodged branches, freezing deadly cold washing through my veines as I stormed through the woods.
No.
I stumbled out from between the trees onto a stony beach, almost tripping as I skidded to a halt.
In front of me, a huge lake stretched, dark and deep and silent.
Right in it's middle, the water was sloshing, silently throwing small waves, like something big had crashed into it.
For a moment, I felt frozen, a name filling my throat, threatening to spill out, but I couldn't, couldn't scream without drawing attention, couldn't yell out the panicked cry building in my chest –
Azriel.
Panic crushed my ribs, and without a thought, without a second of consideration or planning, I darted towards the shore.
The water soaked my boots within seconds as I splashed into the lake. Icy cold water hit my feet, spattering up my legs and almost causing my muscles to lock in place. But I fought forward, holding onto the pulsing fear in my chest as I pushed my legs to move. Then I dove into the waves.
For a moment, the water seemed to freeze the blood in my veines. My lungs closed up, cold gripping my body. Then my head broke through the surface, the air hot in comparison to the icy water as I started to swim.
Something gripped my chest like an iron fist as I fought my way through the cold water. It was so deep, so dark, I couldn't see the ground, could only focus on that spot in the middle of the lake where the water was slowly beginning to calm.
Azriel had still not come up for air.
Something rose in my chest, gripped my throat, and I pushed, my skin burning with cold as I tried to swim faster, my arms and legs cleaving through the icy waves in powerful strokes. Then I sucked in a deep breath and dove under.
The water was so dark, I could barely see a few feet. Pushing myself deeper, feeling my wet clothes pull at me, my eyes darted through the depths until I spotted a huge shape floating below me. Shadows were slowly swirling around it, almost serenly, reaching out towards me like soft, gentle hands.
Something tightened violently in my chest, and I pushed myself up.
My head broke through the surface, and I gasped for air as the ice cold wind stung my wet cheeks. Breathing in deeply, I filled my lungs. Then I dove again.
The icy water enveloped me like hands pulling at me, like ghostly fingers numbing my skin as I started to swim into the deep. My body was burning as I fought my way through the stinging cold towards the far away bottom of the lake where Azriel was being gently swayed by the water, his wings stretched out and body limp, eyes closed.
My heart pulsed painfully.
Shit.
My lungs were beginning to protest as I reached out, feeling the pressure on my body pushing me as I grasped at nothingness. Then my fingers closed around Azriel's shoulders, and something dipped in my chest. I slipped an arm around his collarbones, feeling coolness sweep around me as his shadows pushed me upwards towards the light.
My chest was constricting as I fought myself upwards, black spots beginning to dance at the edge of my vision, and I tried to fight the panic, push forward -
My face broke through the surface, and I gasped for air, my fingers digging deeper into Azriel's shoulders as I hauled him up and into my chest, his face coming out of the water. The ice cold air stung my lungs and skin, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of Azriel's tall, solid body completely motionless.
“Shit.” Gripping him tighter, I turned, frantically trying to catch sight of the beach. For a second, I couldn't find it, feeling panic slosh through me. Then I caught a glimpse of black stone strip in the distance.
“No, no, come on.” Shaking, I began to fight my way through the sloshing waves. Azriel's wings dragged through the water, making him even heavier and pulling him down. Water sloshed over his face, and I tried to tug him up, my eyes beginning to burn and a desperate sound breaking from my throat as my muscles protested.
Come on.
It felt like hours until I reached the shore. I was shivering uncontrollably as I pushed myself to my feet, my knees shaking as I dragged Azriel out of the water, his wings scraping over the stony ground. His shadows whispered as I dropped him, falling to my knees next to him.
“Az?!” My voice was hoarse and panicked as I pressed my fingers against his neck and felt my heart skip once before stilling.
He wasn't breathing.
“No, no, no, come on!” An ache spread through my chest, and with widening eyes, I slid forward, beginning to press my hands down on his lungs in a quick, steady rhythm, my whole body shaking as my heart pounded in my throat.
“Come on,”, I whispered frantically, “come on –“
Water sloshed out of Azriel's mouth, his body rearing up as he coughed out lake water.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I hastily pushed against his body, turning him onto his side and patting firmly onto his back.
Azriel inhaled harshly, his breath rattling. His body was shaking under my fingers, and something tightened violently in my chest when I felt him slump against me.
With shaking hands, I turned him onto his back again, leaning forward to slap his cheek. “Azriel. Azriel, fucking look at me!”
Whispering curses under my breath, I stared at the ash arrow in his chest, feeling my heart pound. I couldn't take it out, not here, not without anything to stop the bloodflow, not without risking him loosing too much blood. His wings needed healing as well, the rips in the thin membrane too big, too broad.
“Shit, shit, shit,”, I whispered hoarsely, throwing my head up to look around wildly. I couldn't stay here, or we'd freeze, and with our luck, the soldiers were heading this way, just to check on whether they had actually hit their target.
We needed shelter.
“Alright, come on.” Scrambling to get to my feet, I grabbed Azriel's wrist, his body dead weight as I slid his arm over my shoulder and dragged him to his feet. His wings slumped towards the ground, and I clenched my teeth, wrapping my arm tightly around his waist and firmly nudging my shoulder into his side.
“You're not giving up, you hear me?” My body was trembling from cold and adrenaline as I started to stumble towards the treeline, half dragging, half carrying Azriel with me. “You're going to hold on until I find a safe place; you're not going to leave me!” My voice quivered.
“I need you to glare at me and call me stupid for putting myself in danger, and I need you to be a stuck up idiot so I can kick your stupid beautiful ass for it!” My voice broke, and I cursed myself, raising my head and blinking against the stubborn burning sensation in my eyes as I breathed shakily. “You're not going to die on me; you're not going to die!”
The snow made getting forward difficult. Soon, my knees were shaking under Azriel's weight, and I could feel his rattling breath against my soaking wet hair, becoming flatter. His body shivered like mine, like it was fighting against the icy winds ripping at us, howling as the snowfall became heavier. At least it would cover our tracks and mask our scents.
I nearly stumbled over a root hidden in the snow, and something in my chest clenched.
If we didn't find shelter soon, Azriel would be dead by morning.
Something hot and flaming rose in my chest, and I clenched my teeth, adrenaline surging through my body.
No fucking way.
“Come – on,”, I pressed, gripping him tighter and fighting against the cold stinging my whole body, numbing my skin as I dragged the shadowsinger with me. “You're not getting away that easily, you hear me?”
For once, I wish I would get back a cutting, precise remark. But Azriel just rasped a flat breath, his body sinking heavier on mine. Panic washed over me, tightening its grip around my chest.
Shit.
The wind howled around us. Every crack of a branch when the weight of the snow got too heavy made my head whip around, my eyes darting frantically through the trees. But I couldn't see a soul, could only hear the sound of crunching snow under our feet and our heavy breathing. My mind was racing while I dragged Azriel through the snow.
The arrows had come from the opposite side of the lake, probably from quite a bit inside the forest. If they wanted to check if they had hit their target, they would have reached the lake by now, but the quick falling snow had masked all our tracks.
Hopefully.
They would hardly check the lake for a body, so if they didn't find one washed onto the shore, maybe we had a chance. Maybe if we found a spot to hide, wait out the storm and I got Azriel at least half back on his feet, he'd be able to transport us back to Velaris, and we could send reinforcements to find the soldiers.
For some reason, the thought wasn't nearly as satisfying as the heat twisting and raging in my chest, urging me to hunt them down myself. And sink my knives into the bastard who had dared firing those arrows.
The image kept me going, fed my numbing, chattering body with a grim, burning fire that wasn't warming but gave me something to cling to, hold onto as I staggered through the snow.
That and the male I half dragged, half carried, his body becoming heavier with the second. It caused a desperate tremble in my limbs.
There was no way I was going to lose him, no way I wasn't going to push until my legs gave out, and even then, I would curl over him if I had to, protect his far too tall body with mine, give him the last bit of warmth that was burning in my chest.
It was either the both of us leaving this stupid forest, or neither of us, because there was no way I was going to leave him. Even if his beautiful, dumb, rational ass would tell me to –
My eyes got caught on a dark structure ahead, flashing between the dark trees, almost obscured by clouds of whirling snow.
My heart tumbled, and I exhaled shakily, feeling my eyes widen as I tightened my grip around Azriel's waist and started lugging him forward.
The thrum in my chest began to quicken when I caught a glimpse at what looked like a simple wooden cabin. It was probably nothing more than one big room inside, with small windows and closed shutters, the porch covered in a thick layer of snow that the wind had blown past the protruding roof – but it made my heart rise in a wild flutter and my limbs melt from their frozen state.
The cabin looked empty, no light peaking out from the shutters, the snow high and unmarked around it. I dragged Azriel to the front door and felt my heart dip.
The door had been opened by force. It looked like someone had kicked it in, and when I leaned forward, breathing heavily, I caught a glimpse at an empty, slightly trashed inside. Judging by the thick layer of snow that had covered the entrance, the raid had happened more than a few hours ago, maybe even already last night.
My heart fluttered and jumped into my throat.
That meant the soldiers had already been this way, had probably reached the lake from this side before moving to the other to disappear deeper into the mountains.
If we were lucky, that meant they wouldn't come past here again, clearly already done searching for valuables in this place.
Unless they had a reason to, they wouldn't just backtrack and risk running into the people hunting them.
I nearly stumbled, lugging Azriel up the steps to the porch. We almost got stuck in the door, and I had to slide my arms around him to pull him through sideways to not hurt his wings. Then I looked over my shoulder, breathing heavily as I quickly scanned over the inside of the cabin.
It was one big room, with a fireplace and a bed covered in furs on the left, a big table and shelves on the right. The air smelled ice cold but stale, like no one had been here for quite some time. The cabinets had been thrown open, but nothing but cups and bowls were scattered over the floors, the bottles and jars in the shelves untouched. The sight made my heart skip high.
Maybe I had a chance of mixing something for Azriel's wounds together from that.
“Alright, come on.” Dragging Azriel towards the table, I heaved him onto the top, my limbs shaking from his weight. Minding his wings, I turned him onto his back, hastily checking his pulse before turning around and darting towards the door. Kicking most of the snow out onto the porch, I threw it shut, bolting it and using one of the chairs to block the handle just to be sure.
Now, the cabin lay in almost complete darkness. Outside, it seemed to already get darker, the thick clouds and the snow storm that only seemed to get heavier darkening the woods even quicker.
My teeth were chattering as I darted towards the shelves, my trembling fingers skimming over the bottles and tinctures, dried herbs and berries in jars. I found some candles in a drawer and matches in another, and setting them up in holders around the cabin, I lit them, my breath shaking as warm, golden light filled the room. Now that I wasn't moving, I felt the cold clinging to me even more, numbing my limbs.
We needed to warm up, quick.
But first, I had to take care of that arrow.
I had never been more thankful for Madja.
My fingers flew over the pestle and mortar I had found in the shelves, grinding up berries, mixing them with herbs, honey and fresh snow. I heard the old healer's voice in my head as I worked, explaining how to best treat wounds caused by ash arrows, how to make the paste that would help the naturally quicker healing of an Illyrian.
Provided the arrow had not injured any vital organs.
The thought made something dip over in my chest, and I threw a quick look over my shoulder to where Azriel was laying still on the big wooden table, his breathing far to flat, the white of his eyes visible under his fluttering eyes. His tanned skin was pale.
Snatching some bandages I had found in the back of a cabinet, I turned around, dropping the mortar on an empty chair next to the bandages and some clean fabrics I had found in the chest next to the bed. My fingers were trembling as I undid the buckles of Azriel'ss chest armor, the heavy leathers pierced by the arrow. His clothes were soaked and clammy like mine, and his skin was icy to the touch, so much so that I flinched.
Shit.
Breathing out, I closed my hand around the arrow, my breath shaking as I pressed my free arm down onto Azriel's chest.
“I'm so sorry,”, I whispered.
Azriel gave a gargled sound when I pulled the arrow from his chest, twisting in the spot. I tried to hold him down, squeezing my eyes shut as the arrow clattered to the floor and I hastily pressed some of the cloth onto the wound that gushed blood, though it looked a lot less than it maybe should be.
Godsdamned cold.
Hastily, I dragged Azriel's leathers off his torso, dropping the soaking material to the ground as I caught the blood with the cloth, pressing it down. My body was trembling as I waited, then I peaked at the wound - the bleeding was already slowing down.
I prayed it was Azriel's healing that caused it, not the cold shutting down his bloodflow.
Spreading the thick paste over the wound, I picked up the needle and thread I had found in a drawer and held the sharp tip into the flame of a candle before pulling the thread through it. My fingers trembled, and I needed three tries until it was looped through the needle.
Azriel twitched when I started stitching the wound together, my needlework a lot less clean than Madja's, but I was shaking too hard. My eyes darted towards Azriel's face constantly, my heart dropping deeper every time I caught a glimpse at the white of his eyes peaking out from under his lids. It felt like he was wandering somewhere between concious and unconcious, twitching and groaning softly at the pain, but too far away to open his eyes or gather anything about his surroundings.
Tying off the string, I grabbed the bandages. It took all my strength to pull Azriel up, his wings dragging him down as I wrapped the white gauze around his ribs tightly, my arms shaking.
I was sweating when I finally carefully put him down again, my cold, wet clothes sticking to my skin and making my teeth chatter.
I needed to get out of these leathers or I would catch something worse than death.
But Azriel's wings were first.
The thin membranes had been shredded by the sharp tips of the arrows, blood crusting the gaping cuts. I cleaned them, whispering trembling apologies whenever Azriel shifted and gave slurred, pained sounds that sunk their own sharp claws into my chest. Carefully stitching them together in the way Madja had showed me once, I spread more paste on the wounds, thick enough to cover them from both sides.
Hopefully, it would speed up the healing process.
Pressing my hand onto Azriel's cheek, I cursed under my breath. He was icy cold, his skin clammy.
I had to get him warmed up. Now.
My eyes darted over to the fireplace, then to the windows, and a knot formed in my throat.
Even though it was getting darker by the minute, the smoke of a fire could still give away our location, even with the storm.
I turned back towards the shadowsinger, who's hair was curling with dampness and melted snow, his torso bare, his wet pants clinging to his legs.
I needed to get him out of those; he didn't have a chance of warming up when he was still wearing the damp, clammy clothes.
Which meant stripping him.
Even though I was chattering with cold, I felt heat bleed into my cheeks.
“Gods, get yourself together,”, I mumbled to myself, moving forward and beginning to unbuckle the sheaths wrapped around Azriel's thighs. I tried to avoid looking at him; his chiselled torso, the smooth curve and width of his shoulders, the ink swirling over the planes of his chest, tried to not think about the rising feeling in my chest that came to life whenever his amber eyes settled on me for too long.
Letting the daggers slip to the floor, I unlaced Azriel's boots, cursing softly at how stiff my fingers were. I could barely feel them as I tugged the black leather off before turning around, blaming the cold for my trembling limbs and for my inability to unbuckle his belt on the first try. Then, stubbornly not staring at his bare skin, I tugged his pants down his legs. They were soaked like the rest of his clothes, making it difficult to tug the thick winter leathers off his skin.
Dropping the pants, I felt the heat in my cheeks deepen and quickly averted my eyes, sliding my arm around Azriel's waist and grunting softly when I maneuvered him off the table.
“Alright, come on.” Staggering slightly, I tried to ignore the weight of his muscled body as it leaned heavily onto mine, the feeling of his harsh breath, his lips brushing over my temple and his skin smooth and cool against my fingers.
It proved impossible.
Somehow, I managed to get Azriel under the covers. Turning him onto his sides so his wings weren't in the way, I tucked him under the blanket and threw the furs over, shivering as I turned around and spread out his dripping wet, icy cold clothes over the chairs. My own were beginning to feel like they'd been frozen by the snow and wind, and when I caught a look at myself in one of the windows, I felt my heart drop at the sight of my slightly blue lips.
Crap.
Quickly throwing a quick look over to where Azriel was laying on the bed, buried under the furs, still breathing too harsh, too uneven, I turned around again, feeling something thump harshly against my ribs. Then I swallowed and quickly started peeling off my own clothes.
My leathers stuck to my skin, completely wet and clammy, and I hissed in frustration as I kicked off my thick pants. Suddenly, I realised how cold the air in the cabin really was, making my limbs shake even more as I rubbed my stiff fingers over my thighs before quickly spreading my clothes over the rest of the furniture. Then I hesitated, looking down at the bra and top I was wearing over my underwear, both sticking to my skin, making goosebumps rise on my body.
I needed to get them off, but if I did – I was practically completely bare.
For a second, I was still, just breathing quickly and feeling myself shiver. Then I cursed softly and quickly shed both the undershirt and the bra, throwing them over the backrest of a chair. Crossing my arms quickly over my chest to cover myself, I turned around, my eyes getting caught on Azriel's frame. He had started to shiver violently.
I felt the overwhelming urge to grab one or two of the furs and curl up on the armchair by the cold fireplace. But I could feel the icy cold seep through me, now settled in my bones, could feel myself grow number.
Staring at Azriel's trembling form for another second, I whispered a curse under my breath, then I darted towards the bed and slid under the blankets.
Immediately, my body started shivering more. It felt like now that I wasn't moving anymore, the cold invaded every inch of me, causing my teeth to chatter loudly as I curled up on my side under the heavy furs, my damp hair sticking to my bare skin as I stared at Azriel's face in the warm flicker of the candles. He looked too pale, his breath too labored.
Swallowing, I scooted closer under the blankets until I could feel his body, just shy of touching my curled up form. Then I forced myself to relax, to stop the shivering, focusing on Azriel´s face, the crunch of his brows, like even unconcious, he was fighting, angry.
The thought made my lips twitch softly.
Curling up tighter, I buried myself in the sheets and breathed out. Suddenly, the exhaustion crashed over my like a wave, my limbs burning not only from the cold but from dragging Azriel through the water and the snow. My eyes drooped, and I had to fight to keep them open, clenching my jaw.
I couldn't fall asleep, I had to stay awake enough to listen for anything. To, for once, keep watch over Azriel, in case anything, anyone found us after all.
But the woods outside were quiet except for the howling wind.
I dozed off a few times. I didn't fall into a deep sleep, my body too cold, my heart beating too quickly, my ears too sensitive to any sound coming from beyond the windows, where the world became darker and darker. But the exhaustion soon overwhelmed me, and my body took what minutes of shut-eye it could pry from the grip of my will. The rest of the time, I stared at Azriel's face in the light of the candles, something thrumming heavily against my ribs.
Please be okay.
I was slowly slipping away into a deeper sleep when the mattress jerked. My eyes flew open, and my heart skipped into my throat when I found another pair staring right at me.
Azriel's eyes were blown as his gaze slowly tracked over the sliver of my bare shoulders and collarbones visible from where the furs had slipped from his abrupt waking. Then his throat worked, and I could see the moment he seemed to tear himself out of it, could see the confused but soft, slightly feverish expression bleed from his eyes as his iris narrowed in and darkness settled over his face.
A muscle in his jaw shifted, and Azriel tore his gaze up, eyes flaring as they pierced into mine.
He didn't need to open his mouth for me to know exactly what was going on in his head.
Explain. Now.
I breathed out and dropped my head onto the pillow, mumbling: “Calm down.” Curling tighter into the furs wrapping around me and trying to keep my teeth from chattering, I grumbled: “This wasn't exactly how I imagined this whole thing going either.” Trying to ignore the heat bleeding into my cheek, I watched him, my voice becoming softer when I mumbled: “You fell into a lake when they shot you down.”
Azriel blinked, and his eyes found my hair that was still damp and cold, sticking to my neck. His pupils constricted, and something flared in his eyes.
“You pulled me out.”
His voice sent a tingle down my spine, low and deep, so deep, hoarse with exhaustion but cutting, his eyes blazing with something I didn't recognize.
I shrugged softly, pulling the blankets tighter around me as I sent him a smile that wasn't half as mischievous as usual.
“Yes, well, I thought about how much you would hate me doing that and just couldn't resist. You know how I like to push your buttons.”
Azriel's jaw twitched, and something burning grew in his eyes as they pierced mine.
I felt my lips twitch in a weak attempt at a cheeky smirk. “That would be the moment to thank me for saving your life.”
Azriel's eyes narrowed, and I could see the muscles in his cheeks shift. “You exposed yourself, left yourself defenseless. That was reckless and stupid.”
His voice was cutting, icy, but I just stared at him, feeling something hot bloom in my chest as my heart skipped high against my ribs.
I blinked and felt my lips curve softly.
“You're welcome.” I turned to slide of the mattress, shivering as my bare feet hit the cold floors. Wrapping the furs around me, I dropped onto my knees next to the fireplace, reaching out to close my fingers around my pants. The leather was icy cold and wet.
“Damn it,”, I whispered under my breath.
I looked over my shoulder and found Azriel's eyes on my face, something raging in his iris, something I didn't recognize.
“What?” My gaze flickered over his face, something skipping softly against my ribs. Then I blinked and looked him over, feeling my lips curve into a cheeky smirk. “Don´t worry. I didn't look anywhere important.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel's eyes dip towards his bare chest, and if I hadn't known any better, I thought I saw a faint blush spread over his cheekbones. Then he tore his eyes away and clenched his jaw.
“You left yourself completely defenseless.”
I turned back around, staring at the fireplace as I felt the smile bleed off my face.
“Yes, well, I wasn't exactly thinking,”, I mumbled, something tightening harshly in my chest.
Even from the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel's gaze flare incredulously, his deep voice slicing through me.
“Not thinking gets you killed.”
I swallowed. My heart thrummed against my ribs as the moment I had watched Azriel fall flashed before my eyes.
“What if the soldiers had been at the lake, what if they'd gotten there by the time you came out of the water?” Azriel's jaw clenched, his voice tight, unrelenting. “You didn't think, and it could have cost you your life –“
“What do you care; if I hadn't made it, you wouldn't have either, but we did; what's your problem?!” I turned to stare at him, my breath hitching as an ache spread through my chest, and shadows whipped up the walls as Azriel growled.
“How can you be so reckless when it comes to your own fucking life –“
Something under my ribs shattered.
“I thought I'd lost you!!”
My desperate scream caused Azriel to fall silent like I had slapped him across the face.
I stared at him, breathing heavily, my body trembling as I barely fought the burning feeling of tears behind my eyes.
“You asshole!” My voice was shaking even though I didn't want it to, a bright aching feeling burning in my chest, flaring like that flicker in Azriel's eyes.
“I saw you fall, and then that stupid lake and I thought –“ My voice broke as I stared at him, an all-consuming pain growing under my ribs.
“You were drowning.” My hands trembled, my throat closing up tight as I blinked against the tears threatening to spill over my cheeks. “I wasn't thinking about anything but that, and that there was no fucking way I was going to let it happen! And you're a fucking jerk for berating me for it, just because what I did doesn't fit with your strategic expectations, or because you think it was reckless, when I thought I had lost you!” My next breath shuddered as I stared at him, my limbs trembling.
Azriel's throat worked as his eyes pierced mine, but for once, he was completely silent.
“You think that it was stupid? That it was reckless and emotional?” I felt heat grow in my chest; familiar, angry heat, and I scrambled to push myself to my feet, glaring at him as I trembled.
“Well, I don't give a shit about what you think! I would have dragged you through that stupid snowstorm until my legs gave out, even if it meant freezing in the end!” I balled my hands into fists. “There's no fucking way I would have ever left you!” Blinking against the tears gathering in my eyes, I swallowed, staring at him.
“Because that's the next thing you would have said, right?” I breathed a bitter smile, something tightening harshly in my chest. “That the rational thing would have been for me to leave you behind? That there was no way I could have carried you until I found a village, let alone all the way back to Velaris? That pulling you out of that lake and taking you with me meant leaving myself defenseless, to those bastards and that fucking cold out there, and that I should have never done that?” I fought the way my breath hitched and tears pricked my eyes as I glared at him. “I don't give a shit about all of that. Because I don't give up. I don't give people up, and I sure as hell never leave anyone behind, especially –“ I cut myself off, biting the inside of my cheek.
Especially not you.
I swallowed and curled my fingers into the fur wrapped around me as I returned Azriel's blazing stare, even as something closed around my throat, causing my voice to sound hoarse as I mumbled: “I would have rather frozen to death with you than leave you behind.”
Azriel blinked again. His jaw worked as his eyes flickered over my face, and something flashed through them. But I turned away before I could find out what it was, my chest tightening as I angrily wiped away the tear that rolled over my cheek, treacherous and letting on that maybe, I gave quite a shit after all.
“Our clothes are still too wet.” My voice was thick and a little shaky, but I refused to look at Azriel as I stared at my pants before turning my eyes towards the windows, behind which, the woods were completely dark.
“Without warmth, it's going to take too long for them to dry. And your body's too focused on keeping you from freezing to properly heal you, so you need to warm up.” I started pulling logs from the stack of firewood next to the fireplace, mumbling hoarsely: “Let's hope it's dark and windy enough that no one can trace the smoke.”
I could feel Azriel's eyes on me as I built and stoked the fire, my fingers trembling not from the cold. Something was constricting in my chest, rage towards this stubborn male swirling under my ribs, mixed with something aching and fluttering that made my heart quiver.
I stoked the fire until I could feel the warmth of the flames on my face. Shivering, I wrapped the furs tighter around me.
Just the thought of being close to Azriel caused something to tighten harshly in my chest. But I could feel cold crawl up from the floorboards, and the desire not to freeze was stronger than the one that told me stay away from the male on the bed.
Pushing myself back onto my feet, I turned around and, without looking at Azriel, slid back under the covers. Turning my back towards the shadowsinger, I curled up, my limbs trembling with cold and something else that had closed tightly around my chest.
I could feel Azriel shift behind me, slowly moving back under the blankets. I tucked myself in tighter, my teeth chattering softly.
The flames in the fireplace started to crackle slowly. I stared at their light dancing over the floorboards, tried to ignore the presence right behind me. But I couldn't ignore his scent, night chilled cedar mixed with the metallic scent of blood, and how it made something twinge in my chest. My mind kept looping back towards the fact that if I shifted back just a few inches, my body would press into hi-
“You're shaking.”
The low vibration of Azriel's voice trickled over my spine. It was deep and clipped, and I pressed my lips together.
“Yes, well, I'm cold.” I tried to scowl, but my voice sounded weak, not at all angry or sharp like I had hoped it would be.
Swallowing, I stared at the light of the fire dancing over the walls. I could feel Azriel's stare piercing the back of my head, could sense the tension in his jaw and body –
The mattress shifted, then I felt something brush against my back.
I froze.
Scarred, calloused skin gently grazed over my side, and my breath hitched, getting caught in my throat.
Azriel's fingers curled against my skin, like he was hesitating, thinking about pulling back, or not quite in control of his own body – then his hand splayed over my skin, slowly sliding down onto my stomach, and carefully, Azriel pulled me backwards into his chest.
My heart dipped. Then it stilled.
I could feel Azriel shift behind me, could feel the tension rippling through every part of his muscles. His hand slid over my stomach, skin cold against mine as he slowly wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed me into his chest.
Suddenly, something twinged between my legs and in my heart.
I could feel every ridge of his torso in my back. Every curve of muscle, every inch of smooth, icy cold skin pressing against mine. His legs came up to thread through mine, and his tall, solid body slowly curled around me until there was no place we weren't touching.
Swallowing harshly, I stared at the light of the fire dancing over the walls, my breath fluttering in my throat and my heart pounding against my ribs. I could feel every shift of muscle in Azriel's body, could feel the tension in his chest as he tightened his grip around me. Then he carefully dropped his forehead against the back of my head and gently tapped his fingers against my ribs six times.
My breath hitched, and my heart stilled.
The tapping thing was something between Mor and I, to communicate when were in the same room but not able to talk to each other. I hadn´t even realised Azriel knew about it, but - of course he did.
He always knew.
One tap meant I'm here, two taps danger, three taps you okay?, four taps need a distraction, five taps for they're lying, and six taps -
Something rose in my chest in a wild flutter.
I´m sorry.
I swallowed and stared at the wall.
Azriel's hand was still for a second, and I could feel the tension ripple through him. Then his fingers gently tapped against my skin again.
One, two, three. Four, five, six, seven.
Behind you.
My heart swelled in a weak, trapped giggle.
For a moment, I hesitated. Then I slowly twisted around under the blankets, and my breath hitched in my throat when my eyes found Azriel's only a few inches away.
My head settled on the pillow. The fire crackled as I swallowed softly and stared, and Azriel's iris shifted as he stared back. His eyes looked less stormy, glinting like molten caramel in the warm flickering lights as they pierced mine.
Slowly, his fingers brushed over my bare spine.
I barely suppressed a shudder, my lips parting, and Azriel's eyes dropped. His pupils expanded, and something flared in his eyes.
A muscle in his jaw shifted, then he mumbled, his voice quiet and rough: “After pulling me out of the lake, did you call me a stuck up idiot?”
My breath hitched in my throat, and my eyes darted up to meet his as they widened a little. But Azriel just stared at me, and behind that strange blazing fire in his eyes, it almost looked like they were twinkling a little.
“No,”, I whispered and blinked, and just for a second, the corner of Azriel's lips twitched. His gaze pierced mine.
“You also called me beautiful.”
I stared at him, something fluttering wildly against my ribs when I mumbled back hoarsely: “No, I called you stupid.”
Azriel's eyes flared, the gold in his iris melting together as his gaze dragged over my face.
Swallowing, I tore my eyes away before the fluttering thing in my chest could break free. Dropping my head a little, I reached out before I could stop myself and carefully brushed my fingers over the bandage wrapped around Azriel's ribs.
A deep sound broke from his throat, and my breath got caught in my throat as my eyes darted up again, just in time to see a muscle in Azriel's jaw twitch, his pupils blown as he stared at me.
“You're freezing.” Something dipped over in my chest at the rasp in his tight voice, and I swallowed and stared up at him.
“I could think of some ways to warm up.”
It was supposed to be a cheeky taunt. But it came out breathless when I felt Azriel's scarred hand brush slowly over my bare skin.
Azriel's fingers stilled. There was something in his eyes as he stared at me, that strange blazing flicker I had seen before, something raging and all-consuming that seeped through his carefully crafted walls.
A muscle in Azriel's jaw shifted as his gaze dragged over my face. Then his hand brushed up over my ribs, rising from under the blanket.
His rough skin against my neck made me shiver, a tremble running down my spine that suddenly had nothing to do with being cold when his fingers slipped into my hair. They threaded through the strands, and I felt my next breath shudder when his thumb slowly traced over the side of my throat.
Azriel's eyes moved slowly over mine, and that look in his eyes flashed, grew stronger. Then he lightly tugged me forward, and when I followed, my breathing growing shorter, he dipped his head.
His nose brushed against mine, and I reached up like reflex, my fingers trembling a little when I wrapped them around Azriel's wrist as his hot breath hit my lips.
Azriel stilled, fingers still threaded through my hair, lips nothing but a breath away from mine. I thought I could feel his lashes on my cheeks, the heat of his pulse under my fingers. Something was thrumming under my ribs, growing stronger with every second.
I sucked in a soft, trembling breath when I realised he was waiting.
The thrum in my chest grew unbearable, and I moved, dipping my head and pressing my lips slowly against Azriel's jaw.
His fingers curled into my hair, muscles shifting under my hand wrapped around his wrist, and I thought I felt something rumble in his chest.
I slid lower. My lips traced over the shape of his throat, feeling it work under the featherlight press of a kiss against the side of it. My teeth grazed over his skin, and Azriel's fingers scraped lightly over my scalp when a grunt escaped his chest that sounded a little strangled.
Dipping my head, I carefully pressed my lips onto the curve where his neck met his shoulder, and my heart rose, flaring.
I hadn't known the taste of someone's skin could do this – make you feel drunk off of it, cause a rush to fill your body, make your skin tingle and heart race.
Tracing the shape of Azriel's collarbone with my lips, I left a slow, careful kiss on his cool, inked skin before following the shape of his chest. My hand slid lower, and I felt the thrum of his heart under my palm, quick and erratic. It made my own swerve sharply, and Azriel's breath shuddered when I dragged my lips over his smooth skin.
Looking up at him through my lashes, I felt something jolt right down into my lower stomach, my own breath hitching and something hot rushing through my chest when my eyes met Azriel's, fixed onto my face, the amber flickering in the light of the fire, pupils blown. His jaw worked, and my spine tingled.
Slowly sliding down his body, I traced my lips over his chest. Leaving slow, careful kisses on the swirls of his tattoo, the silver lines of faded scars, I felt his muscles shift and flex under my featherlight touches. My fingers brushed over the bandage wrapped around his ribs, and a sound left Azriel that caused my heart to tilt over when I carefully pressed a kiss onto the spot where the arrow had pierced him.
Somewhere buried deep in my head, the thought stirred that this didn't feel like it was just about warming each other up.
Not with the way Azriel was staring down at me, something flaring in his darkened eyes, his breath out of rhythm, his body reacting to the smallest brush of my fingers with a shudder like it was the answer to a long lost prayer.
My lips traced over the hard ridges of Azriel's stomach. Following the lines, I felt his muscles shift and clench beneath his smooth skin when I pressed my lips slowly against his side, my tongue tracing lightly over his skin, and Azriel's hand fell out of my hair to grab onto the sheets. His knuckles turned white as I slid down, and something curled and tightened in my lower stomach when I traced my lips over the sharp line disappearing into his underwear.
Azriel's hips bucked upward, and a low, pressed grunt left him that caused tingling warmth to wash over me, my stomach twisting.
I gently nudged my nose against his skin, then I raised my head, and something rose in my chest in a wild flutter when my eyes met Azriel's, his jaw locked as his gaze burned into mine until something closed around my throat and I barely kept myself from swallowing.
Slowly, I shifted. Then I slung my leg over his waist.
Azriel's pupils seemed to grow darker, and without looking away, feeling that steady thrum in my throat, I slid down his body.
The sheets and furs went with me, but Azriel didn't seem to notice. His eyes were transfixed on my face. Then my hand slid under his waistband, and his expression slipped, jaw going lax and eyes fluttering when I wrapped my fingers around his cock.
Slowly pulling him out of his pants, I felt something dip and plunge in my lower stomach at how hard he already was. Swallowing, I carefully ran my thumb over his tip, coaxing a low curse from him. Then I looked up through my lashes and sent Azriel a small, cheeky smile.
“Tell me if I'm doing something you don't like.”
The shadowsinger's eyes flashed as a choked sound left him, and I dipped my head and wrapped my lips around him.
“Fuck.”
A breathy grunt broke from Azriel's chest, his head fell back as his hands fisted the sheets, and I gently ran my tongue over the underside of his cock before sucking him into my mouth.
Incoherent sounds spilled from Azriel's lips, deep grunts and rough muttered curses that made my stomach twinge as I started to stroke him slowly. His blazing eyes were dragging over my face, the muscles in his stomach twitching as my hand worked what my lips couldn't reach, my tongue running over the underside of his cock as I took him deep, beginning to suck.
“That's it.” Azriel's hands fisting the sheets trembled as he grunted breathlessly, his throat working and eyes squeezing shut for a second like he was trying to reign himself in, but the words stumbled past his lips, deep and gravelly.
“Fuck, just like that.”
My heart swerved sharply as I drank him in, his cheeks flushed, hair dishevelled and body heaving the longer I worked him. I twisted my hand a little, and he grunted, head falling back and hips bucking. I could feel him pulse, could tell he was getting closer, closer to that edge, his breath shuddering.
Azriel groaned. His fingers slid into my hair, threading through the strands and beginning to guide me, like he just couldn't help himself anymore, had to touch me, his grip tight as his flashing eyes followed my movements. My teeth grazed the underside of his head, and Azriel grunted, his voice strangled.
“If you don't stop I'll -“
I looked up at him through my lashes and sent him a crooked, cheeky smile that made him break off with a grunt. Then I swirled my tongue around his tip and sucked him into my mouth, and Azriel unravelled with a sound so deep, it vibrated through my very bones.
His head fell back, his back arched and his hips bucked, and Azriel came with a shudder. His load hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed it all, the salty taste causing my eyes to flutter.
Sucking gently for a few more seconds, I slowly let him go, gently brushing my thumb over his base, and my eyes met Azriel's, flickering amber in the firelight, his skin glowing with a thin layer of sweat as his burning eyes dragged over my face. His grip tightened in my hair, and he tugged, pulling me up his body.
My breath hitched when our noses brushed. Azriel's eyes looked like molten gold in the light, the flecks all swimming together in his hazel iris as it flickered over my face, and I felt my heart rise, trembling –
“Get on your back.”
I needed a second to realize the meaning behind the words mumbled against my skin, so deep and low and like a tremble running down my spine.
A wave of heat washed through me, my stomach twisted tight, and I blinked and pulled back my head, feeling my brows crunch incredulously.
“You're still hurt. No way; you're staying like this.”
Azriel's eyes darkened.
“Now.”
“No.” I glared back, which really, was ridiculous, because just the thought of him between my legs caused the pulsing feeling in my stomach to intensify tenfold, and I knew he could sense it, saw it in the way his nostrils flared and eyes flashed, but –
Azriel's hands closed around my sides, sliding my underwear down my legs; he groaned deep in his chest, then rough scarred fingers dug into my skin, right where my thighs and hips met, and my heart dipped and fell when Azriel dragged me up, up his torso, up over his shoulders.
“Wha-“ My breath got caught in my throat, and I hastily grabbed onto the headboard to not loose my balance, my eyes widening when I realised what he was doing.
My gaze whipped down; I tried to lift my hips, and Azriel wrapped his arms over my thighs and dragged me down, his piercing eyes meeting mine.
“No; I'm too –“
Azriel's tongue sliced through my folds, and I jolted and whimpered a string of trembling curses, my hips bucking down onto his face as my stomach twisted and my spine melted into burning, glowing matter.
Azriel groaned, the vibration travelling through me, and I dug my fingers into the headboard, feeling my heart tip over and insides clench.
“Shit – I –“ I tried to twist away in a weak attempt of trying to keep my weight off of him, but Azriel dragged me down further, not seeming to give a fuck about suffocating as he licked a broad stripe through my folds. His eyes flutterered, and he gave another grunt.
“Perfect.”
The low mumble rose up my spine, so deep and gravelly, my insides tightened around nothing. My breath shuddered, my brows crunched as my lips parted, and Azriel buried his face between my legs.
Whimpered curses spilled from my throat, senseless, blending into each other as my limbs trembled and Azriel's tongue traced the shape of me, mapping it like he was trying to commit to memory. Then he lazily circled my clit, and my lips parted, brows crunching as my hips bucked down in reflex and a whimper built in my throat.
My eyes flew down, and I could feel myself clench when my eyes met Azriel's, burning and flaring as he dipped his chin.
My breath hitched in a whine, and my hips spasmed when Azriel licked over my clit and sucked. His grip tightened, and the shadowsinger hummed, his nose nudging against my skin as his hazy, hooded eyes tracked over my face, molten like gold. My left hand flew down to bury in his dark hair as he ground my hips down onto his face, and I whimpered.
My body shook, the reason now far from freezing as my spine shuddered and hips bucked and waves of heat washed over me as I felt the world tip. Then Azriel's tongue slid into me, and my insides shuddered.
A breathless sound left me, I clenched, and Azriel groaned, tugging me down, and my head fell back as his tongue started to lazily dip in and out of me, circling, lapping until my body melted into a puddle. My fingers dug into his hair, nails scraping over his scalp as my hips rolled down without me being able to control it, but Azriel just gave a deep sound that travelled through me, his heavily hooded eyes fixed hungrily onto my face.
A knot formed in my lower stomach. Slowly, it build, twisting and churning as Azriel carried me towards something that would probably make me lose every last bit of control over my body, sucking on my clit, his eyes trained onto my face, coaxing every little reaction out of me, from my trembling fingers to my eyes rolling and head falling back, my thighs shaking next to his head –
Azriel's hand shifted, sliding down over my stomach. His tongue slid into me, and his thumb found my clit, circling tightly.
The world exploded, shattering as heat washed over me and the knot inside me bursted into a thousand stars. My hips spasmed, my back arching as my body tightened and loud, trembling noises left me that caused my fingers to curl and chest to tighten, my spine bleeding into nothingness, waves of blinding pleasure racking through me and causing my body to shudder and tremble. My hips jerked, and something bloomed in my stomach when Azriel groaned against me.
It took what felt like a lifetime until the sensations slowly dispersed and my spine stopped shuddering, and yet, Azriel was still lapping lazily at me, causing my hips twitch and a soft sound to break from my throat.
Slowly sliding my fingers out of his hair, my joints weak from clutching onto the silky strands, I weakly held onto the headboard and lifted my hips. My thighs trembled lightly, and Azriel's hands slid up to close around my hips, steading me, his head tipping back to stare up at me as I slowly started crawling down his body.
When I was hovering above his chest, I dropped my gaze. My heart rose into my throat, something dipped under my ribs, and I stilled.
Azriel's face was only an inch away. His iris was nothing but a ring of golden flecks around his blown pupils, his skin no longer pale but slightly flushed, the crease between his brows almost gone even as his jaw flexed, his gaze dragging over my face, and his lips -
My chest tightened as my breath hitched and I stared at his swollen, glistening lips. My hips bucked back as my spine shuddered, and Azriel's lids fluttered heavily, eyes blazing as his hand slipped onto my back, pushing me down, down until –
My nose grazed his, and something turned over in my chest when my own scent hit my lungs.
A deep sound rumbled through the shadowsinger's chest, his hand slid up to cup the side of my neck, and he dragged me down.
His breath ghosted over my lips, and my own hitched.
Azriel's nose softly nudged against mine, his thumb slowly tracing the curve of my throat. I could feel him, the warmth radiating from his skin, could feel his scent invading my senses and causing my heart to shudder, could feel something building in my chest as my fingers trembled.
Azriel's lips brushed over mine. His grip tightened, a strangled sound built in his chest, and he tugged me forward and crashed his lips onto mine.
My heart faltered. Then the whole world stilled.
Azriel kissed me like he'd been starving.
A breathless whimper tore from my throat, my fingers dug into the pillows, and Azriel groaned softly. His fingers slid further into my hair, then his lips parted mine and his tongue slid into my mouth.
My breath faltered as the ground seemed to sway. I clutched onto the sheets, a desperate sound building in my chest, and Azriel's hand curled into my hair as he kissed me harder, more feverish. He was kissing me like he'd been wondering what it would be like for centuries and now that he'd had a taste - nothing else would ever be enough.
The thought made something pang painfully in my chest, and I whimpered, my body curving into his as I settled on his hips, my hands sliding to the sides of his neck, tipping his head, and Azriel's breath shuddered in a deep moan as his thumb brushed over the side of my throat. His tongue swirled lazily around mine, then his teeth caught my bottom lip, and a soft whimper broke from my throat as something clenched in my stomach.
Azriel's grip tightened, dragging me down towards him, his nose brushing past mine. I could feel something travel through his hands that felt like a tremble. Then he pulled me in with a hoarse noise and kissed me again, deep and hard and feverish as his fingers curled into my hair, and something in my chest rose in a wild flutter.
part II
@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @icey--stars @azriels-mate2 @ailyr92
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sinsandsweetness · 7 months
Note
Please for the love of god write something about Rick chasing the reader down in the woods I’d DIE
(Rick and Daryl x fem!reader)
cw- reader already has a baby with the boys, reader being chased in a maze, threesome, smut, slight breeding kink… think that’s all…
notes- happy Halloween! This is a fun little one shot placed in Alexandria. It is a follow up of “taking turns” however you don’t need to read it to read this. It’s just the same relationship, a couple years later. I had a few requests for a follow up and for some chasing/hunting vibes so… here you go! I won’t lie this is a bit rushed and not proofread at all so I apologize for any errors or if it’s not my best… but i hope you enjoy and tell me what you think<3
“Alright,” Rick breathes out with a sigh, dropping the large box onto the ground. Daryl right behind him with another.
The kids run over. Judith, at just 4 years old, Gracie, Sam, Carl and a few of the older kids and teens in Alexandria. Your own baby coos in your arms. Incoherent, yet adorable babbles leave her mouth, with chubby little hands grabbing into the air in the direction of her daddy.
While Rick cuts open the cardboard box of costumes, Daryl sneaks away from the cluster of children, all way too excited to get their hands on a cape and a mask. Or a dress and a tiara.
“C’mhere, sweetheart,” he grabs your daughter from your arms. Immediately she’s smiling all big and giggling into his jacket.
“Were you good for your mama while I was gone?” He whispers against her dark curls before pressing a kiss to her head.
“She just missed you, I think.” You respond. In reality, she was fussy. You figured that would happen after two nights without her dad. Daryl definitely being her favourite parent.
The kids are noisy as they ooh and awe and fight over the Halloween costumes.
Rick finally makes his own escape with a costume cowboy hat on his head.
“Hey, officer,” you tip your head up for a kiss as he wraps his arms around your waist. Eager to hug you. To touch you.
He stays holding you for a moment. Just soaking in your warmth.
“Miss me?”
“Every minute.” He confirms against your mouth for one last kiss, before moving to kiss your daughters cheek.
“How’s our little princess?” He asks to no one in particular.
“She missed her daddies. Kept me up all night.”
“What?” Rick faked a shocked tone, “our little princess would never. That doesn’t sound like her at all, does it?” He runs his hand over her hair and plants a kiss on her head.
You roll your eyes but your smile peaks out anyway. The sight of your men being such good fathers will never fail to make you smile.
“Daddy! Daddy look!” Judith’s high pitched voice brings attention as she tugs at Ricks pant leg.
When the three of you turn to look, she’s dressed in a unicorn onesie. Adorable. A bit warm for the weather. But adorable.
Rick picks her up with a groan, “oh my goodness, almost too big for this, aren’t you?”
She nuzzles into Ricks chest, little arms wrapping around his neck.
“I think someone needs a little snooze before all the festivities tonight, hm? You feelin’ a little tired, Judy?” He asks her. You don’t hear anything but you see the white fluffy ears on her hood move up and down as she nods into her fathers shirt.
“This little rascal should have one too.” You nod towards your own sleepy girl, “I can go put em’ both down for a nap.”
“Nah, I’ll do it.” Daryl insists.
“Are you sure-“
“I’ve got it.” He scoops Judith up in one arm, balanced on his hip and very happy to be carried to bed. A snuggly little 6 month old on his other. He starts off upstairs and leaves you and Rick in the living room. Surrounded by a foam sword fight battle that appears to have ensued between a couple ninja turtles and a fairy Princess.
The whole reason for Rick and Daryl’s last run was to find these costumes. Among other Halloween decorations and as much candy as they could salvage. Anything to make it a special day. To show the kids what things used to be like. To remind the ones who did know, exactly how fun the holidays were. You weren’t even sure it was Halloween. Sure, the leaves were beautiful tones of orange and yellow, falling to the ground and crunching beneath your shoes. But you arent sure what day it was. Honestly, you arent entirely sure what month it is. However, according to Eugene’s calendar, It is in fact the 31st of October.
Ricks head tips low to your ear and he whispers an invitation to go shower. He needs to clean up. And he really wouldn’t mind some company.
“Carol,” he turns for a moment and nods to her in the kitchen, prepping some food for tonight. “Can you…” he motions to the living room full of children running around. Carol nods and you can hear her telling them to beat it and go play outside while you’re led up the stairs by the hand.
The party is supposed to start at 7. Carol offered to take your daughter for the night, to give you some time off. To have fun. To go to sleep early if that’s what you wanted.
It’s a bit cold out. So you’re in a cream knit sweater and some jeans. A pair of cheap bunny ears are on your head. Your daughter is dressed in the smallest costume you could find in the box, a plush orange carrot. And she’s the cutest carrot you’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.
There’s wine. Lots. And food. And candy. Eugene is setting up a spooky film to be played on a projecter in the middle of Alexandria. A few bonfires surround the yard, scattered with jack-o-lanterns. Carved and lit up with tea lights and glowing eyes.
It’s beautiful. Slightly spooky. And so familiar. It’s everything you remember about Halloween.
An arm snaking around your waist startles you as you sip on your wine. But the smell of smoke and leather soothes you quickly.
“Hey,” Daryl says. You turn to face him, only slightly confused as his voice is being muffled by something.
He’s wearing a mask. A scream mask more specifically. The rest of his attire is typical. His leather jacket on, though no vest tonight. Dark jeans and boots.
“Mmm, spooky.” You lean in and press a quick peck to the white plastic. You can’t see him smile under the mask, but you know it’s there.
Another arm wraps around your waist from the other side. It’s Rick. You know by the thick brown jacket brushing against you. He’s also in costume, wearing a Friday the 13th hockey mask.
“Well hello, Jason,” you tease.
“You scared yet?”
“Should I be?” You ask. Though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.
Rick opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by some commotion from the yard.
Eugene has a microphone, standing on a picnic table and telling the crowd to sit down and get comfy. That the movie will be starting in two minutes.
“Well, are you two ready for some Hocus Pocus?” You ask.
They look at eachother through the masks. What the hell are they plotting?
“What…?” You finally ask.
“We were thinking… maybe we could do something a little different.”
“What, you wanna watch something else?”
“Not quite,” Daryl chimes in, “we were thinking that while everyone is watching the movie, the three of us can make our way through the corn maze.”
The maze is outside the walls of Alexandria. A bit dangerous, but it was part of the fun. The kids had all had their turns in it earlier in the day, heavily supervised by adults and parents. Ones with weapons and training for situations outside the safety of the walls.
“You want us to all get lost in the maze?” You bite your bottom lip and smile.
“We want you to get lost in the maze,” Daryl corrects you.
Rick dips down to your ear and lowers his voice, “and we’ll try and find you. Play a little game.”
“Grown up hide and seek?” You ask. Heat raising to your cheeks at the thought of what they want to do once they find you.
“Exactly.”
You swallow, looking back to the yard where the kids are all lid out in sleeping bags and on blankets. Focused on the film playing in the dark.
“Ok.”
“We’ll give you a two minute head start,” Rick hands you a switch blade. Just incase. Nodding towards the back fence, where you know you can sneak out without being caught. Your heart is already starting to race a little at the thought of having to hide. At the thought of them searching for you. Hunting you down. And Daryl’s little comment when you start off towards the fence doesn’t help either,
“Good luck, little bunny.”
It’s pitch black when you reach the maze. Actually, as soon as you made it over the wall and into the woods, it was dark. But inside the maze, the stalks of corn all towering over 10 feet tall and fluttering creepily in the breeze. The only light you can see is a faint glow from the moon. And even then, it’s only when you’re out of the shadows.
You walk into the maze. Immediately met by multiple twists and turns. You weren’t one of the supervisors earlier, so you really didn’t know the route. The straw and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk further into the maze. A quick, brisk walk trying to find the best place to hide. Or, if you’re lucky, to find the end of the maze before the boys even get in.
But you know that’s unrealistic. And you’re sure your two minutes must be up because you can hear them. Footsteps and muffled voices behind a couple walls of corn. Shit.
You start to walk faster. A borderline jog at this point, trying to keep your footing light.
It didn’t occur to you until now how easy it’ll be for them to find you. Daryl’s a hunter for Christ sake. He’ll be able to track your path through the maze in no time.
They’re closer.
Fuck.
You have to run. You can hear their voices. They’re so close.
“You’re gonna have to be quicker than that, baby.” Ricks voice rings out towards you. He’s on the other side of the wall. Through the thick corn stalks and the pitch black of the night, you can’t make out exactly where he is. But he’s close.
You run.
And they follow right after.
The sound of their footsteps is clearer and clearer the further away from Alexandria you get. And the further into the maze.
You shriek at the feeling of a hand on your sweater, jolting forward and starting to sprint. It was Daryl. He’s behind you.
And though him and Rick are both stronger, you have one advantage. You’re faster.
Over your shoulder as you sprint you can see them. White masks still on, glowing in the moonlight.
“Fuck”, you swear to yourself when you
come to a dead end. You only have two options. Turn around, or be caught. They couldn’t be more than a few seconds away.
Without really thinking, you shove your way through the stalks. Catching on every leaf and stick, but ultimately coming out the other side without a scrape.
You can’t celebrate your quick thinking victory too long because you still hear them.
“Split up,” Daryl whisper shouts at his friend, and with their footsteps scattered, it’s even harder to tell where they are.
Fuck.
You keep going. You take a left. And then a right and another dead end. Shit. Is this … is this the same one?
You turn back and take the left instead. But it’s another dead end.
What the fuck?
You’re lost. You don’t even know what direction you came from anymore. Circling the same two dead ends before you finally take a right that leads you a couple meters further than the other options.
You hear a stick crack on the ground behind you, but there’s no time to see who it is.
You turn the corner fast with your heartbeat so loud it drums in your ears.
“Shit,” you stumble right into a brown jacket in front of you. Arms wrapping around you and picking you up. You scream.
Someone warm presses against your back as your feet touch the floor again.
You’re trapped.
“Gotcha,” Daryl’s gravelly voice is already in your ear.
You’re breathing heavy in their hold, sandwiched between the two men.
Their hands grab at your sweater and start to roam.
“Take this off,” a voice demands as you struggle against their arms,
You try for a moment to reach the mask covering Ricks face. But Daryl, or maybe Rick’s, hands are clamped on your wrist.
It’s claustrophobic, but you don’t entirely mind. As long as it’s their arms your trapped between, you’ll never complain.
They don’t kiss you. They can’t. But everything about their demeanour is screaming that they want you. That they want to be in you.
Hands gripping and tugging at your jeans. Your hands snake around Ricks neck in front of you as they peel your jeans down your legs. The air is cold and gives you goosebumps, but your legs wrap around his waist immediately. Daryl’s bulge pokes at your ass while his hand trails under your sweater to pinch your nipple. Ricks pants are tight as his own bulge rubs against the thin fabric of your panties. Your jeans long lost to the straw and dirt ground underneath you.
It doesn’t take long for them to get you how they need you.
Granted, the three of you did have a lot of practice. Your panties swiftly ripped off by the man behind you who wanted more access. The cold metal of both their belts hit your skin.
And with little preparation other than some spit and arousal, you’re stretched to the max with both men. Both holes filled with very little regard for your comfort.
They know you’d say something if it really hurt.
But it hurts so good. The pain of being so fucking full. Stretched to a limit you’d experienced over a dozen times, but no matter what, it just never gets any easier.
“Wanna kiss you,” your voice comes out in wet gasps, lips brushing the plastic of Ricks mask. One hand trying for Daryl’s hood, reaching awkwardly around. You need their touch. Their lips on your lips. Tongues tracing each-other and fighting for dominance.
They’d win.
They always do.
The three of you find a rhythm quickly. Hands on your thighs, holding you up and using you as leverage to pound as fast and hard as they could. Your moans and their grunts fill the air as pleasure starts to swirl low on your abdomen.
“Please,” your head tips back in ecstasy. “Please, please,”
“Please what, sweet girl?” The cold plastic of Daryl’s mask brushes your ear.
“Please- want- uh,” you’re interrupted by sharper thrusts from the two men, catching you off guard. Their both picking up their pace.
“Speak up, darling.” Rick demands, nails digging into your hips.
“Fill me up,” you gasp again. “Want it so bad, Rick, please.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on the swirl in your stomach. The one that keeps getting warmer and warmer and warmer until-
“I’m cumming,” you tell them as a courtesy, but you don’t have to. The way you’re involuntarily clenching down around them gives you away far better than a couple raspy words.
“You really wanna get filled up, baby? Bred like the little bunny you are, huh?” Ricks words send you over the edge and a hand toys at the fluffy rabbit ears that are shockingly still secured on top of your head.
You’re out of words. Too stimulated to talk. So you just nod in agreement. Yes. Please. Please.
Their hips stutter to a stop and warm liquid seeps out to drool down your inner thigh.
Breathing heavy, you’re lowered back to the ground, colder now. without the friction of their bodies.
“Here,” Daryl grabs your jeans from the ground and dresses you again. His soft side peaking out now that he’s had his release. Your shoes are back on and your legs a little shaky, and finally, the boys finally take their masks off. The whites of their eyes are bright in the moonlight.
“You alright?” They both ask you as the three of you somehow manage to find your way back out of the maze.
“A little cold…” you smirk.
“But we didn’t-we didn’t scare you too bad right?”
“No.” You smile, “Don’t know if I could ever get that scared by you too love bugs.” You tease, arms wrapping around their waists and pulling them in close to you.
“Pfft,” Daryl brushes off the comment and Rick only smiles.
“Well if we didn’t scare you, then maybe next time we oughta try a little harder.”
“Next time?” You ask. The thought already going straight between your thighs.
The boys share a look over your shoulders that can only mean one thing.
“Hey, baby,” Rick catches your attention, hand guiding you towards the community gates by the small of your back as he searches in his jacket pocket for his keys. “You ever been to a house of mirrors?”
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cordeliawhohung · 9 months
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Smoldering Butterflies
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part two of "soft spot"
You've been haunting Simon Riley for awhile now. Even with the distance, he keeps you in his back pocket.
Warnings: slight references to the violence in the previous part, other than that mostly fluff, soap gives reader a nickname, soft ghost, slightly domestic ghost?
wc: 6.2k
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Careful eyes watched Simon as he sat towards the back of the plane.
Military transport aircrafts were always miserably loud, which made for poor conversation, yet the man was completely content sitting away from his comrades, staring down at his hands. More specifically, the item in his hands. A small, black handkerchief that was patterned with silly, cartoonish dogs. It wasn’t unlike him to be quiet. However, the new item was rather odd for him to be lugging around, and his two sergeants were very quick to take notice. 
“Think he’s got a kid?” Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick questioned. He was leaned far over to his left, looking at Simon, or as he was better known in the military, Ghost. 
Though it was difficult to hear him over the humming of the engines, John “Soap” MacTavish chuckled as he shook his head. “Sure hope not. Have a hard time imagining him around a kid.” 
Gaz tilted his head to the side. Simon continued to look at that silly piece of cloth, gloved thumbs rubbing over it gently, and almost longingly. It was as if he was lost in thought. 
“Naw, I think he’s got someone else waiting for him back home,” Soap commented, turning his attention to Gaz. The red lighting inside the airbus made it feel like his eyes were going to melt, but he wore a sly grin anyway. “He’s got a spook.” 
“A spook?” Gaz repeated incredulously. 
Soap nodded and hummed, a sound that was quickly drowned out by the engines. “We call him Ghost. Thought it’s fitting if his lass gets an equal nickname.” 
“If there is a girl,” Gaz corrected. 
Soap looked back at Simon just in time to watch him fold the handkerchief. It was neatly done, a perfect square, and once he finished, he leaned to the side, shoving it into his back pocket. One could argue that he took such care in folding the cloth because he was a military man. They did every single thing in their life with care. Soap would argue otherwise. 
“Oh, there’s a girl, alright.” 
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Winters in London were miserable. Take that gloomy rain from the rest of the year but drop the temperatures a few degrees, and that’s where the weather stayed. Though it would get close to freezing, it was hardly ever cold enough for it to snow, which meant that not only were you cold, but you were cold and wet. 
It was times like that that made you regret finding an apartment so close to work. It wasn’t far enough away to rationalize taking a bus or train, and you didn’t have a car to drive yourself, so you were stuck walking just on principle. Your knees and thighs had turned into ice from the moisture and frigid air. Rainwater was threatening to soak through the fabric of your shoes with a single wrong step, and your toes were beginning to feel the effects. 
Still, you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and tugged your coat closer to your body as you pushed onwards. The droplets of water plummeting from the sky made it difficult to really look around while you walked, as every time you tried one would inevitably land in your eyes. Even the hood of your coat only offered so much protection. 
The very moment your apartment building came into view, you rushed up the stairs. Rubber squeaked on the wood of the stairs as you rushed up to the second floor, glad to finally have some cover from that relentless trickle of water. Despite how counter intuitive it seemed, once the door shut behind you, you quickly made your way into the shower. Warm, steaming water washed over your body, washing away the grime of the money you dealt with that turned the tips of your fingers grey, 
There was something so renewing about a shower. It washed away more than just the filth on your body, but the stress in your muscles, and the dissonance in your thoughts. For a moment there was nothing in the world to worry about. 
Until you stepped out of the shower. Until you got dressed in your pajamas. Until you walked out of your bedroom and into the living room and remembered just how alone you were. Alone and yet haunted all at the same time. Despite how many months it had been since you had broken up with your ex-boyfriend, there were reminders of him everywhere. A cardboard box sitting in place of the glass base lamp he had shattered. Poorly matched paint that covered a small area in the wall near the entryway. Raised skin on the corner of your lip. 
He was everywhere you didn’t want him to be. 
A knock on your door startled you out of your depressing daydream and your head snapped back towards the entrance. It wasn’t extremely late at night. The sun had long since set as it normally did in winter, yet it was no later than seven. Still, it was odd for someone to come over so late in the evening, and you would be lying if you said that your heart didn’t instantly jump into your throat at the sound. 
Taking care to avoid the squeaky parts in your hardwood floor, you slowly crept towards the door as you held your breath in anticipation. Leaning forward, you pressed your face near the door as you gazed through the peephole that peered into the hallway right outside of your apartment. The very moment your brain registered the figure on the other side, your hand instantly flew to the lock. 
After undoing the deadbolt on the door, you flung it open, the force of it sending a breeze your way that tugged at your wet locks of hair. Beyond the door was none other than Simon Riley. His tall frame had made it difficult to make out his face (or in this case his balaclava), but you could recognize him from his build alone. He stood in front of you, hands shoved in his pockets and dark eyes trained on your face. His balaclava was dotted with droplets of water, and for a moment you almost thought it was sequined with how it reflected the dim lighting of your apartment. 
It wasn’t until you looked him over that you realized how disheveled you were. Hair still damp and unbrushed, loose pajamas so big on you that you basically swam in them, large house slippers. It was certainly very much different from your normal attire that you wore when you were at the bank. 
“Simon,” you exclaimed softly as your hand fell from the doorframe. 
After the little incident at the bar back in October, Simon stayed around until the end of November before he had left suddenly. This wasn’t new behavior of course. Being in the military meant that he was often getting deployed or sent on missions. Luckily they seemed to be rather short compared to what you had expected, but still, it was nearing the end of January. Months had gone by since you had last seen him, and despite the odd friendship that had bloomed between the two of you, you had no way to contact him outside of seeing him at work. 
“It’s good to see you,” you said. Reaching a hand up, you ran your fingers through your damp hair, digits getting caught on the stretchy strands. Yet you tried to tame them anyway. “Do you want to come in? Warm up a bit?” 
Simon shifted, the heels of his boots squeaking on the floor as he did. Despite the fact that you could only see his eyes through his balaclava, he was quite expressive. Or maybe you just had a knack for reading people. He looked almost apprehensive. Maybe not quite apprehensive, but a little guilty at least. 
“Don’t waste your evening on me,” he said. His voice sounded gruff and worn as if he spent the better part of the last month or so doing nothing but barking orders. Which, in hindsight,  he certainly did. “Just figured I’d check up on you. See how things were going for you.” 
As he spoke, you saw his eyes unmistakably wander to the scar on the wall not too far behind you. He was actually the one who helped you patch it up in order to hide it from your landlords. It was faint, and the hardest part of it all was trying to find the perfect off-white color that matched the rest of the walls. Still, both you and him knew what exactly to look for, and it had become quite an eyesore. 
“Please,” you insisted, stepping aside slightly. “I was just about to put the kettle on, and it’s freezing out. It’s no trouble at all.” 
There was a short pause between the two of you as Simon mulled your proposition open. The longer he stayed quiet, the more you studied him. His eyes seemed… darker somehow. Was he wearing makeup? Slight eyeliner? No, it was much too smudged for that. What was it that soldiers wore sometimes? Or even football players? Eyeblack? How long had he even been home? 
“Alright,” he finally spoke, taking a careful step forward through the doorway. “Won’t keep you long.” 
The freezing cold was practically radiating off of him as a few stray drops of rain wicked off of his jumper. He hadn’t even worn a proper coat, and he looked soaked to the bone yet if he was cold he had done a good job at hiding it. 
Once in the entryway, Simon knelt to the ground as he undid the shoelaces of his boots. It was odd seeing him be so low compared to you, but you tried not to let your eyes linger on him too long as you took a few steps backwards, giving him some space as you walked into the kitchen. 
“When did you get home?” you asked as you grabbed your kettle. You had learned long ago that when you and Simon conversed, it was you who did most of the talking. However, that time around, you were hellbent on changing that. 
“This morning,” he answered, voice still a little gruff. It sounded almost as if he had a frog caught in his throat. 
Running water sounded from the sink as you began to fill the kettle, and Simon’s boots gently thunked against the side of the wall as he lined them near your shoe rack in the entryway. You stole a glance at them, and did a double take at the utter size difference between your shoes and his. 
“Late night, then?” you asked, somewhat teasing as you set the kettle on the stove. A few clicks later and the heat turned on, the electric coils burning bright red. 
“Something like that,” he mumbled. He turned around to face you, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. God, he was almost as broad as the damn thing.
Nodding your head, you attempted to run your fingers through your still damp hair once more before instantly giving up. “Feel free to take a seat in the living room. I hate to make you stand around, I’m sure you’re tired,” you said, gesturing to the lone couch that you could hardly make out from the doorway of the kitchen. 
Simon leaned back, glancing to where you gestured. He looked like he was going to deny your offer for a moment, but he did a double take as something seemed to catch his eye. 
“What’s in the box?” He took a step into the living room, the floorboards squeaking underneath the sheer mass of his body. 
“Oh, that?” you asked, peeking into the room yourself. “I bought myself a new lamp. I tried to glue the glass base of the other one back together. You know, like with gold glue? Thought it would look neat. Didn’t really work out, and I was missing a few pieces so I figured it was easier to just buy a new one. Haven’t quite gotten it together yet, though.” 
So much for trying to get Simon to do the talking. Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you ducked back into the kitchen as Simon approached the box. While the water boiled, you began to rummage through your cupboards, finding painfully little. Rent had become much more difficult since you were the only one paying it for the last few months. Though, it wasn’t like your ex had helped out much anyway, he at least kept the kitchen stocked; something you found to be increasingly difficult. Still, you managed to find a box of breakfast tea at least. 
“You alright with breakfast tea?” you called, double checking to see how many bags you had left. 
He was silent for a moment. “Yeah. Plain.” 
Plain? You thought it was a joke that men in the military liked their coffee black. Perhaps that extended to tea as well. Either way, the very moment the kettle began to whistle you took it off the stove, instantly soothing its screech. Once you got the tea bags soaking, you heard the distinct sound of cardboard ripping coming from the living room. Leaving the cups behind to steep, you stood in the doorway where you found Simon sitting on the floor with the box that belonged to your new lamp. 
Several parts and pieces already laid out in front of him, all in their own separate packaging bags. A small piece of paper sat in his hands as he carefully read through them. Dumbfounded, you stood there for a moment, watching as he began to put the parts together for you. 
“Simon, you don’t have to do that,” you insisted. Though maybe it was a blessing in disguise. That damn box had been sitting on your side table for weeks. 
For a moment he didn’t respond to you, as he was too caught up with reading over the instructions. Even with his face turned slightly away from you, you could make out just how much he was squinting at it. 
“Where the hell did you buy this from?” he asked, reaching his hand up to remove his hood, fully exposing his balaclava. 
“Ikea.” 
“Fucking hell,” he grumbled before tossing the instructions to the side. “Useless…” 
Without the help of instructions, Simon continued to put the lamp together. Really there weren’t too many pieces, as it was just a simple table lamp, but even from a short distance you could make out about twenty screws with several different sizes. The scene of it all was odd. With his balaclava, Simon looked like a robber. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had given someone a heart attack in the lower lobby of the building. However, instead of robbing you, he was putting together your side lamp. 
You chuckled to yourself before returning to grab the tea. After fixing yours up to your liking (and leaving Simon’s painfully plain) you meandered into the living room where you left his cup on the coffee table that sat in front of your couch. You took a seat, warming your hands around the cup as you watched Simon work. It was a little endearing how seriously he was taking it. Brows furrowed, eyes steady, hands moving. 
How did the two of you get to that point? Going from strangers, to… whatever you were in that moment? What sparked it? Was it the day you said he didn’t have to remove his mask at the bank? Or the night he hit your ex so hard his jaw nearly splintered? Maybe it was something else. Something more simple. So simple that it was complicated. 
As you sipped on your tea, the warm liquid pooled in your stomach, almost making you shiver in delight while you watched Simon work. Over the course of him working on screwing the lamp together with the allen wrench, he had slightly rolled up his sleeves, revealing part of his forearms. Something of a sleeve of tattoos covered his left forearm. Skulls, smoke, and dog tags with barbed wire for a chain were some of the things you could make out on his mural-like tattoo. On his other arm, you noticed a fresh cut. A tender bruise formed around the edges of the angry red scrape, and it was so deep you were surprised that he hadn’t gotten it stitched, or at least bandaged it. 
“What happened to your arm?” you asked, tucking your legs underneath yourself. 
Simon turned away from the lamp and glanced at you, head tilting to the side in a way that sent butterflies scrambling in your stomach. Every time he looked at you, you felt like your skin was going to catch on fire. Not because his gaze was angry, but because of the heat that boiled inside of you, threatening to burn those butterflies in your stomach until they were nothing but ash. 
“Right,” you said with a breathy laugh, looking down at your cup. “Stupid question, I suppose.” 
Something of a chuckle left Simon as he stood from his spot on the floor. It felt like you had to crane your neck back just to even keep looking at him. But the lamp was finally put together, lightbulb, lampshade and the works. He placed it on the side table before plugging it into the wall, and you excitedly placed your half drank tea on the coffee table next to him before leaning over and twisting the switch. Warm light poured out of it, illuminating the darkened corner of the living room. 
“Would you look at that,” you beamed, leaning on the armrest. Really, it wasn’t anything spectacular. It was just a lamp, afterall. But it felt like, in a way, you were getting a part of your life back. You looked up at Simon, his dark eyes trained on you. “Thanks.” 
“It’s nothing,” he responded simply. 
For a moment, things suddenly became tense. Simon continued to stand next to that lamp, eyes flickering away from you and to the window behind you. It felt weird having him back in London. You were used to him vanishing without a trace every now and then, and you tried not to worry, but this time you had. But knowing the kind of man he was, you knew he didn’t want you to. 
You swallowed a lump in your throat as you glanced back at the coffee table. He still hadn’t attempted to drink his tea at all. Really, you weren’t sure why you had expected him to. Afterall, he never took his mask off. Perhaps that was why he had asked for it plain; he didn’t want to waste any milk or sweeteners. 
“I missed you,” you suddenly blurted out. 
This sudden revelation that left your lips surprised not only you, but Simon as well. You saw it in the way his eyes landed on you. How they flickered over your face. How they lingered on your lips. They always lingered on your lips. But you knew it wasn’t in the way that you wanted them to. Your tongue swiped over the corner of your lip, of the painful reminder of that night all those months ago. 
“I never used to worry about you,” you continued, shifting in your spot on the couch. “We knew you were in the military, so when you’d disappear without notice I would just assume you were out saving the world or something. But I… I worried this time.” You paused for a moment, feeling the embarrassment already eating away at your chest. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m glad you’re back.” 
For a moment you didn’t think he was going to answer you. Simon’s eyes were trained on you in a way that both confused and excited you at the same time. Yet he did speak, his mouth dancing underneath the cloth on his face as he did.
“Of course I came back,” he said as if stating a fact. “Had to make sure you weren’t getting into any more trouble.” 
You laughed, thankful for his teasing tone. It was comforting to know he wasn’t put off by your awkward ramble, or if he was he was at least good at hiding it like he was with everything else. 
“Yeah, well, I think you scared off any trouble that would find me,” you admitted with a shy smile. 
“Brute force will do that.” 
Simon was… funny. In his own weird, and maybe a little dark, way. Either way, you appreciated it, despite how dry his humor could get. He was a strange man, and you oddly found yourself wanting to know more about him. Even with that nagging feeling in your stomach that told you to keep your distance, there was something just so alluring about him. 
“Do you want to catch a movie this weekend?” 
Once more, your mouth was opening and spewing out words before you even had the chance to think it through. Sometimes you hated how much you talked. How you would just say whatever was on your mind without any regard for how it would come across, or even how it would affect those around you. How you hadn’t annoyed a quiet man like Simon was beyond you. 
“What? Need protecting?” Simon asked dryly. 
You grinned. “You never know when trouble is gonna find me.” 
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
“So, what rank are you?”
“Lieutenant.” 
“Is that good?”
“Good enough.” 
Maybe you should have bothered to check the movie showings that weekend before inviting Simon out to watch one with you, because the one you two got stuck watching was absolutely atrocious. Not even a few minutes through the movie you had gotten bored and ended up whispering facetious jokes to Simon throughout a majority of it. Really, you weren’t quite sure if he enjoyed himself that much throughout the movie, but as he walked you back to your apartment, he seemed to liven up a little. 
It was one of the rare nights that it actually snowed in London. Even though the temperature was quite literally freezing, you would take the fat, fluffy flakes of snow over the skin biting drops of rain that normally assaulted the city. And god, was it beautiful. Sparkling, glittery snow dusted the entire city, and there wasn’t a single bit of wind to add to the frigid chill. It was the type of scenery you’d find on a postcard.
“Does that mean you get to lead other soldiers?” you continued as the two of you came upon your apartment building. Taking care not to slip on the slick snow, you rushed up the steps, unlocking the entryway door for him before climbing up to the second floor. 
“Sometimes,” he explained simply, following behind you with long, slow steps. “There are others I have to answer to.” 
You hummed as you came across your door. Cold fingers fumbled with the keys as you shoved it into your lock where you twisted the door open moments later. 
“And then, what branch of the military are you in? Army?” you questioned further as you entered the warm embrace of your apartment. 
Simon paused for a moment, not answering your question until the door shut behind the two of you. “SAS.” 
Your brows pinched together as you worked on getting your snow boots off of your feet while Simon did the same. Despite the fact you asked him so many questions about his line of work, you weren’t really versed in it at all. “What’s that mean?” 
“Special Air Service,” he explained simply. “A branch of the army. We specialize in stuff like covert surveillance and hostage rescue.” 
You were about halfway into the living room when Simon explained this, and you found yourself quickly pausing to jump and turn around. A huge grin was plastered on your face as you worked on shrugging your coat off of your shoulders. 
“I knew it!” you exclaimed with a giggle, tossing your coat onto the hook on the wall. “High priority missions! Secret agent shit!” 
“You make it sound more interesting than it actually is,” Simon said softly as he entered the living room behind you. 
Playfully rolling your eyes at him, you turned away and walked towards the couch. You sank into the cushion, though not very far. They were much too firm to be completely comfortable, yet it was the only furniture you had in that room. 
“It is interesting. You guys sound cool,” you said. 
“I never said we weren’t cool,” Simon said, a slight gruff, yet teasing tone in his voice. 
He ventured further into the room, standing on the other side of the coffee table. You were certain that if there was a chair there, he would have taken that rather than the seat next to you. Despite how close the two of you had gotten, there was still something a little off about Simon. Like he was hiding something. Not in any nefarious way. More in a guarded way. It was like he kept building up a wall of sorts. For every brick you removed, he added two more. 
But his eyes gave him away. It’s what made you trust him so easily when he had first walked into your work all that time ago. They were intense, and sometimes intimidating, but never before did you see a single sliver or glint of anything wicked. Perhaps there was a sense of brokenness to them, but in that world, who wasn’t shattered? 
“Is that why you wear a mask all the time?” you asked softly. “Because of work?”
For the first time since you had known him, you saw Simon freeze. Really freeze. It should have been expected, though. The subject of his mask wasn’t exactly one he had ever seemed all too interested in divulging in. Really, you didn’t know what even possessed you to ask the question in the first place. Maybe a part of you was just hopeful that he would be a little vulnerable with you. 
“Something like that,” he responded after a beat. 
Of course. Something like that. You quickly learned he gave that answer to you when you were hitting the answer close to home, but not exactly making it there. Like you were stuck on the outside of the house, trying to look through the window with the curtains drawn closed. 
“Do you ever… take it off?” you then asked. 
It was a dangerous question to ask, and you knew it, but as of late, your filter had become painfully nonexistent. You had gotten comfortable with him. Too comfortable. Something had happened between the two of you that left your mind spinning months ago. Friends but not. Maybe something more. Maybe something less. The line was so blurry at that point all it did was add a dreamy glow to the situation you found yourself in. 
“Never,” he answered firmly. 
Delusional. That’s what you were. Simon was never anything short of being a gentleman towards you, but god, what were you thinking? The man seemingly never showed his face, always wore a mask, and was in the special forces. He had probably killed someone before. No, he certainly had. You still remembered the way he punched your ex at the bar. The squelching sound of his jaw cracking and teeth sinking into his flesh had echoed in your ears for days. 
But they were the same hands that you had patched up. The same ones that put together your lamp and held open the door for you at the cinema. Did he even like movies? Why did he even go with you?
“Why not?” you asked so softly the words hardly left your lips. 
He tilted his head to the side slightly as he shoved his hands into his pockets, and it reminded you of something that a dog would do. “Do you want me to?” 
Your answer was caught in your throat and it burned like poison. Yes.
“I don’t know,” you said instead. 
Even without his thick work boots, Simon’s footsteps on the hardwood floor were noticeable as he carefully maneuvered around the coffee table. You both watched one another carefully, eyes never flickering away for even a second as he slowly sank into the cushion next to you. You hadn’t noticed it before, but he smelled faintly like something fresh. Cedar, perhaps? And vaguely like the cheap popcorn you had indulged in at the cinema. 
“Close your eyes,” he said. 
“Why?” you asked. 
“You always ask so many questions?” He wasn’t irritated. It was mostly a plain question, with a slight hint of amusement. 
“Always.” 
You stared at each other for a moment. He was so close, yet so painfully far at the same time. God, those butterflies in your stomach were nothing but ash by that point and even in death they still smoldered. 
Trusting him, you finally closed your eyes. Your vision wasn’t exactly plunged into darkness. The dim lighting of your living room bled through your eyelids, showing you only the red color of the blood in your body. You stayed still, as if you would scare Simon off if you moved so much as an inch.
Then came the unmistakable sound of rustling clothes, and it didn’t take you long to realize what he was doing. Removing his balaclava, Simon tossed the cloth onto the couch next to him, his movements echoing in the couch as you felt it move underneath his shifting weight. You had to remind yourself to breathe as he sat there, seemingly fixing his hair for what seemed like forever. 
After patiently waiting for him, his fingers brushed against the back of your hands, almost making you jump. Instead, you found yourself holding your breath as you felt his thumbs drift to your palms as he carefully raised your hands off of your lap. Instinctively, you closed your fingers around his thumbs and he paused for a moment. He didn’t say anything as he raised your hands higher up, and you felt your hands brush against the unmistakable feeling of his face. 
Slowly, afraid of going too fast, you let go of his hands to gently cup his cheeks. His hands fell away from yours, allowing you to explore him with your eyes still shut tight. Each move you made was careful and soft. Fingertips ghosted so carefully across his face, taking notice of the slight stubble on his chin. As you moved up, your right hand came in contact with some rougher skin. It was uneven, slightly raised off of his cheekbone, reaching all the way back to his hairline. Another one was further up, cutting vertically down near his temple and slicing part of his eyebrow. 
As you continued, your movements became a little more brave. His nose was strong and angled with a noticeable bump on the bridge. You traced down to the tip of his nose, taking note of how it wasn’t exactly straight. Almost there, but not quite. Then you went lower. Another scar sliced the top of his lip, a deep one that created a small crevice of sorts. His breath was warm on your fingers as your thumb moved across his lower lip. You could feel how tense his muscles were in his face, as if he was pressing his lips tightly together. Like he was afraid something would escape him if he didn’t. 
A small huff escaped him as your fingers started to dip below his jaw, and his hands came up to ensnare yours. Thumbs pressed gently into your palms and fingers firmly on the back of your hands, he held them there for a moment, and you could feel your face begin to heat up. 
“Sorry,” you apologized, fingers retracting from his face and wrapping around his thumbs once more. God, it was crazy how big his hands were compared to yours. How you could make a complete fist around his thumb and the rest of his fingers could still engulf your hand. 
“Didn’t think you’d wander so far so quick,” he quipped, and you would have rolled your eyes at him if they weren’t already closed. 
“Your ID doesn’t show the scar on your cheek,” you stated instead. One of your hands loosened the grip on his thumb before slowly slipping away from him. The pads of your fingers gently ran over the thick tissue of his scar. You wondered if it looked as deep as it felt. 
“I heard some women find scars attractive,” Simon said, his dry humor showing. 
A choked sort of laugh rumbled in your chest and you gently shook your head. You sucked on the side of your lip slightly, teeth biting into the corner of your mouth where you knew your own scar laid just behind it. 
“Maybe if they’re on men,” you said with a sour chuckle. 
Within an instant Simon’s fingers were cupping your chin. Similar to what you had done to him just a moment before, his thumb swiped over your bottom lip, lingering for a moment on the scar there. You could feel your heart threaten to break free from your chest. 
“A few more and you’ll look as dashing as I do,” he said, fingers still lingering on your skin. 
Your head tilted down some and you shook it slightly in disbelief. “You’re awfully confident for a man who hides his face all the time.” 
“I’ve earned it,” he retorted bluntly. 
His grip on your chin tightened some, not enough to hurt, but enough to get you to lift your head back up. Your eyes fluttered for a moment, threatening to open, yet you quickly squeezed them shut. He was awfully trusting of you in that moment, and you weren’t going to break that. 
“Have you?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your voice was breathless. 
He shifted forward slightly, and he was so close you could feel his breath fanning across your face. Your grasp on his thumb tightened even more, and you found your breath becoming increasingly difficult to control. 
“Wanna find out?” he asked, his voice lower than it was before. 
You weren’t sure how it happened, or who closed the distance, but your lips collided with Simon’s in something so unexpectedly soft it stole your breath. Those smoldering butterflies in your stomach resurrected with a vengeful fury. With wings of fire they thrashed around in your stomach as Simon’s hand fell away from your chin. He pressed his hand against yours, as if reveling in your touch on his cheek. 
Never in a million years would you have expected something so soft and sweet from a man like Simon Riley. With his brooding stare and intimidating figure; masking up in a way that always left everyone on edge. God, your sweet tooth was insatiable, so much so that it was Simon who had to be the one to pull away. 
You had to hold back your protest as the absence of him left your stomach churning. His hand pulled yours away from his face, but he still held it in his as he lowered your joined hands towards your laps. 
“Still keeping your eyes closed even after all that?” he asked, the baritone of his voice rumbling you to your core. 
Taking his invitation, you finally opened your eyes. Of course his face was the very first thing you were met with. In an odd way, he looked exactly how he felt. A strong, slightly crooked nose, deep scars on his cheek and forehead, and strong brows. His lips were slightly turned downwards in a neutral expression, but a light shined bright even in the umber of his eyes. 
A smile broke out on your lips, one that continued to spread and spread so much so that one nearly appeared on his own lips. 
“There he is,” you said softly. 
“Been here the whole time, sweetheart.” 
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Spring came just in time to send Simon off on another mission, though it was already blistering hot in the desert he found himself stuck in. The morning sun rose dully off the horizon, and he stood facing the scene. Without any clouds, the sunrise wasn’t anything spectacular, but he wasn’t focused on the sky at all. 
That goddamn handkerchief. He couldn’t go anywhere without it, but damn, he wouldn’t dare to leave it behind. Not when it was the only thing that he had out on the field that reminded him of you. 
“How’s Spook?” 
Confused, Simon turned around, annoyance evident on his face even from behind his mask as he faced one of his sergeants. 
“What the hell are you on about, Johnny?” he questioned, eyes settling on the Scotsman. 
Soap motioned towards the handkerchief in his hand. It was the same one he had spotted Simon holding on their last mission while flying back home. He had meant to ask his lieutenant about it before, but never got the chance. The shit eating grin on his face was the only hint Simon needed to put two and two together. 
“Spook,” Soap repeated, hands reaching up to rest on the straps of his vest. “Your bird.” 
Shaking his head, Simon carefully folded up the handkerchief before placing it in its home in his back pocket. He huffed as he walked past Soap before muttering, “Comedian, you are.”
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superblysubpar · 7 months
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Secret Moments, In a Crowded Room:
boyfried!eddie munson x fem!reader x steve harrington
summary: your boyfriend eddie and your shared "friend" steve start something messy with you | main menu | song inspiration | 18+ Only, NSFW
1058 words
A/N: I truly...like Idk, it got away from me and now I'm like do I write more? Is it good, do people like this? Idk. Tell me your thoughts. Requested by an anon here - thank you so much! the prompt shows up slightly differently but overall the same!
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The cool evening breeze drifting in through the open window carried freshly mown grass, autumn leaves, and a bonfire from down the road as it made the curtains in your bedroom flutter. Signs of people out and about, enjoying their last few nights of decent weather - meaning anyone could be walking by. Anyone could see. 
Obscene and filthy, wrong and dirty. 
Heavy air that smells like smoke and woods, his soap and his shampoo. Bodies coated in light sheens of sweat, pouted lips and flushed cheeks. Your chest heaving beneath his palms, cool metal soothing against heated skin. 
He had you settled between his spread legs, back to his now bare chest, the thrum of his heartbeat against your spine, a rhythm you locked onto for breathing to settle your nerves, or maybe excitement. Cold metal chain bumping against your shoulder as he leaned forward, fingers pulling at your nipples gently. Circling the bead and pinching just right, just how you liked it. 
Your legs thrown over his thighs, pulled apart wide for him to see and your toes curled into the bunched up sheets as his hand moved lower across your stomach. Eddie tutted into your neck as you threw your head back to rest on his shoulder.
“Nu-uh-uh,” he nosed at your cheek, singing, “Keep ‘em open sweetheart.”
As you lifted your head he pressed his lips to your ear. “Good girl,” kissing just below it, but never taking his eyes off of the foot of the bed. Eddie’s hand sunk lower and lower, until it hovered over your cunt, teasing until you whined and the other boy swallowed. 
Eddie laughed as your hands flew to his thighs, breath caught in your throat as one finger slid through your slick, parting your lips slowly. Eddie mouthed at your neck until you wiggled your hips and his other hand had to hold you in place, two fingers spreading you wider, putting on a show. He left your neck with a loud release of his lips, smirking against your shoulder. 
“Feels like my baby is pretty into this, what’s it look like?”
Your cheeks warmed, legs stretching and bending under the attention as Eddie laughed into your skin, pressing more encouraging kisses. 
The boy at the end of the bed stood before you both in just a pair of black boxers, stark against his tan skin that reminded you of the summer that was now over. New freckles and moles you’d never seen exposed to you, needing him closer so you could explore them all. His cheeks flushed pink, hand reaching up and running back through his auburn hair. Hooded eyes roaming over your body like you were a meal he was about to devour. 
As Eddie’s fingers spread you even wider, thick middle finger running up and down, teasing, Steve rested a knee on the mattress. The bed dipped with his weight as he pressed his palms flat, crawling up towards you as he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing and you gushed around the thick digits, squeezing at Eddie’s thighs. 
Steve’s tongue jutted out over his bottom lip, tilting his head as he murmured, “She’s practically dripping on the bed for us, Munson.”
Both boys smirked at the noise you made at the observation. Steve’s eyes focused on Eddie’s fingers and Eddie’s on the look of admiration on Steve’s face as you squirmed, pushing back against his chest.
Steve’s fingers ghosted up your thigh, eyes finally roaming higher on your body to meet your gaze. He leaned forward, hand rising to cup your face. Long fingers and thumb holding your chin and jaw, hand so large it felt like it overtook you easily and your breath hitched. His eyes never leaving yours as he tsked, “Man, you sure you wanna let me fuck her? She’s so pretty, don’t know if you’ll get her back.”
It felt so wrong to be turned on by his soft tone that contrasted with the words leaving him. Feeling dirty from the way he pretended to ask Eddie instead of you, the way his compliment was making you roll your hips against Eddie’s fingers, desperate for more. 
Eddie laughed, still confident, “Go ahead Harrington, she’s not going anywhere.” His finger dipped lower finally, circling your entrance and drawing slick up to your clit and making you jolt forward. Fingers on Steve’s shoulders, noses bumping as Eddie followed, cooing in your ear, “Aww, baby, you want Steve to fuck you?”
A pathetic whine when Steve’s palms caressed up your thighs and he kept his lips hovered over yours, waiting, nose pressed into your cheek. Eddie cursed quietly, lips over your ear as he squeezed your waist, never stopping his attentive circles to your clit. His voice lowered, gravel and rasp as he breathed out, “Yeah? I want that too. Gonna watch him fuck my girl.”
Steve’s lips parted over yours as you gasped, both of Eddie’s hands squeezing at your waist as a new finger dipped inside of you, then a second quickly followed, longer and slimmer, curling a different way than your boyfriend’s in a way that had your brain going blank. Steve’s kiss is messy, mouth moving over yours hungry, sharp breaths into you as he licked at your lip, demanding more. Eddie sucked at your neck, teeth grazing over the wet skin and pulling when he heard Steve moan into your kiss, the wet sounds of your tongues meeting and his fingers slipping in and out of you. Your stomach coiled in a familiar taut band quickly from all the extra stimulation - two mouths, four hands, it’s too much. 
Eddie nipped at your ear, fingers bumping Steve’s as he took control of your throbbing clit again while the other boy kept up his steady pumps. Your hands reached for both, curled in the hair at Steve’s neck so he sucked on your bottom lip and made Eddie swear against the edge of your jaw. Your other back into Eddie’s hair, tugging him forward by his curls so he was whispering against your cheek. 
“Shit honey, yeah, I’ll let Steve fuck you. But only so you know I do it better.”
Steve’s smile against your lips had you parting in a laugh that Eddie joined in on. Lips and fingers quick to meet again, the three of you becoming a tangled mess. 
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lunasfics · 7 months
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Thunderstorms - Bruce Wayne
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Summary: There was a period of silence, your feet making soft splashes in the puddles below you, his steps were silent next to you. Your grip on the cape around you tightened when the loud rumbling on thunder sounded above you, you felt Bruce’s hand over your back, it grounded you.
word count: 1.8k
warnings: none
a/n: I'm like. not super happy with how this turned out. but i hope someone likes it. i saw a picture bruce and he looked absolutely scrumptious and I was inspired to write some fluff for him. ALSO SO SORRY FOR THE INACTIVITY IVE BEEN BUSY. and also. writers block is a bitch. so yeah, i am trying to get better with updates though!!
reblogs are appreciated!
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You sighed, standing under a ledge just outside your work building, wrapping your arms around yourself to conserve the little warmth you had. The rain pelted down onto the concrete mercilessly, the cold, harsh winds hindering the ledge you were under from really doing much to help. The fresh scent of rain washing away the grime on the concrete filled your nostrils, the cool air nipping at your skin. Of course, Gotham’s usually unbelievably bad weather just had to be at its worst when you get off work, after the building closes, during the one point in time you don’t have a car. Wonderful. 
You weren't sure what you were waiting for honestly, you had considered calling him. But thought better of it. He was busy on patrol, he always was. Besides, it had been about two weeks since you’d seen your boyfriend, and although it did hurt you, you understood. Or you at the very least tried your best to. You’d decided long ago to not lie to yourself, you understood Bruce’s endeavor, but you also understood that you have every right to feel upset over it. To feel hurt. It wasn’t an easy endeavor, you knew that,  you’d only wished he’d reach out and let you in. 
You winced as the loud rumbling of thunder sounded through the sky. You had always hated thunderstorms, the thugs and criminals of Gotham didn’t scare you, Batman didn’t scare you, neither did the vigilantes who worked with him; but thunderstorms just… terrified you. 
As you contemplated your options, you decided you’d just wait it out, you’d much rather sit still in a thunderstorm than have to navigate your way through it. 
You dug your hands into the pockets of your jacket trying to keep warm, as you shuffled back against the wall. Your head shot up at the familiar swoosh sound of someone landing silently not far from you. You turned towards the sound, where you saw Batman looking at you. 
“What are you doing here?” You asked, you were surprised, Bruce didn’t usually patrol this area until the later hours of the night. You had learned not long after your relationship started which patrol routes he would usually take, you figured he would be somewhere on the east side of Gotham. 
His lips pressed into a line before he spoke, “You’re afraid of thunderstorms. Your car is getting repaired tonight.” 
You nodded, your eyes never leaving the white lenses of his cowl. 
He cleared his throat before approaching you, removing his cape and draping it over you gently, it was heavy. It smelled like cedar wood and mint, the scent of the body wash you bought for him not long ago, and the faint smell of gunpowder, you lifted it over your head to form a makeshift hood, the thick fabric of the large cape still swallowed you. When you seemed ready he walked alongside you as you made the route towards your apartment. 
He spoke again, his voice quiet, “You could have called me. I would have come sooner.”  
You shook your head, “I thought you were on patrol. I’m surprised you’re here, honestly. It’s been awhile.”
He seemed to tense a bit, only for a split second, but you noticed. You chose not to acknowledge it. 
“Hm.” He gave a nod, as you continued along the sidewalk towards your apartment building, walking in silence. You looked at him on more than one occasion. He seemed to be contemplating what to say before speaking again, “I…I’m sorry.” 
“For what?” 
He paused for a moment, rather awkwardly, like he really wasn’t sure how to go about what he wanted to say. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was nervous. Leave it to you to make Batman nervous. 
He cleared his throat again, before speaking, “I haven’t been giving you a relationship that you deserve, I’ve been prioritizing this,” he gestured to his suit, “over us. For that I’m sorry.” 
You nodded, indicating you were acknowledging his words. There was a period of silence, your feet making soft splashes in the puddles below you, his steps were silent next to you. Your grip on the cape around you tightened when the loud rumbling on thunder sounded above you, you felt Bruce’s hand over your back, it grounded you. You looked at him, the corners of his mouth tilted downwards in concern. 
You took a moment before responding, “I understand. I know it’s… a lot. Just, maybe a call every few days couldn't hurt? Instead of, you know, disappearing on me.” 
His gaze was still fixed on you as he nodded, clearing his throat, he spoke again, “I should have been doing that to begin with.” 
You nodded, “You should have, but I could’ve done more to reach out. I should’ve established those boundaries.” 
He looked at you, for a moment, the slightest hint of surprise adorned his visible features, “You aren’t in the wrong here.” 
You shrugged, “Maybe not as much as you, but relationships are a two-way street, we both have to try, and I wasn’t doing my part. Not as much as I should have been.” 
He nodded, you noted the way his shoulders relaxed. 
“I would like to mention however, now that these boundaries are set, you can’t pull that on me again. You need to talk to me, Bruce. You can't just disappear on me and expect me to just be okay with it.” 
He nodded again, his eyes not leaving yours, you could feel his stare through the cowl, “I’ll do that, I’ll do better,” he promised. 
You smiled, opening the door to your apartment building, it was late in the evening, no one in the building tended to wander about at this time of night. You looked over at him, tilting your head to invite him into the building, before continuing towards the elevator, pressing the upwards arrow. You turned and he was right next to you. His mouth was pressed into a line, the corner of his lip moving in a way that told you he was in thought. 
The elevator right up to your floor was quiet. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you. That was one thing you’d liked about being with him, you didn’t have to talk constantly to maintain a comfortable space. 
When you reached the door you unlocked it, stepping through and folding the heavy cape in your arms. You turned around and took in the sight of Bruce, right outside your door, there in his bat suit, without a cape he looked kind of…naked. It was kind of funny, if you were being honest. He stood there, awkward in a way that only you could make him, he wasn’t one to fidget, but you could see the way his gloved hand twitched ever so slightly, as if he wanted to.  
Initially, when you first started dating Bruce, you were reluctant, his reputation was known to most in Gotham, and his sincerity, in your eyes, was just a facade. 
So imagine your surprise when you not only agree to a date, but during said date, he takes you to a quiet little cafe, and is oddly… timid? You were undoubtedly perplexed, as gone was his playboy persona; and it drew you to him, his reserved personality captivated you, because you knew it was genuine. That was the day you really met Bruce Wayne. 
You eyed him standing awkwardly at your door, before asking, “Well, would you like to come in?” 
He nodded, clearing his throat before entering your small apartment, shutting your door quietly behind him. 
“You weren’t planning on going back on patrol after this?” 
He shook his head, removing his cowl as he spoke, “It’s a slow night, Gordon can handle it,” he met your eyes, revealing the icy blue color that you love so much, offering you a small grin, “I want to spend time with you.” 
You raised an eyebrow, “What about Alfred?” 
His lip quirked up into a small smile, “He told me I should ‘get over myself and go see you before I lose what is quite possibly the best thing to ever happen to me’, he also said he was getting sick of me locking myself in the cave.” 
You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his arms wrap themselves securely around your waist, leaning into the familiar closeness, “Alfred is a smart man.” 
“He is, I suppose even he needs a break sometimes.” 
“I can imagine, I’ll have to write him a thank you card for keeping you in check,” you laughed softly. 
“He’d love that, I'm sure,” he huffed a small laugh. 
You giggled, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, pulling away to meet his eyes again, “So you’re staying the night, but take a shower, you smell like sweat.” 
He nodded. He went over to your bedroom, probably to grab some of his spare clothes kept there, when he wasn't so hyper-focused on his mission, he spent a lot of time there in between patrols. It wasn’t long before you heard the water running. You moved from your place in the living room, deciding to change into your sweats. 
You plopped yourself onto your bed, your shut windows thankfully covered the storm that was outside, you buried yourself under the blankets. You flicked on your lamp, encasing the room with a warm glow, pulling out and reading a book you were halfway through, not closing it until you heard the shower turn off, the bathroom door opened not long after. 
You looked over to see Bruce, his hair fell over his forehead in damp clumps, his towel strung over his shoulder over the old band t-shirt he had on, his sweatpants hung loosely on his frame. He set the towel down to dry before climbing into the other side of the bed. 
You shut the book in your hand, setting it aside before opening your arms, allowing him to shuffle himself closer, he leaned over you and shut off the light. You felt his weight on top of you, his arms wrapping around you, his head comfortably on your chest. You ran your fingers through his damp hair, enjoying the quiet moment. 
He lifted his head, his blue eyes meeting yours, “Move into the manor with me.” 
You stopped, “What?” 
He shifted, propping himself on his elbows, “Move in with me.” 
“Are you sure? For someone who has contingencies for his contingencies, you can be incredibly impulsive.” 
He nodded, “I’ve been thinking about it for the past month at least. I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, move into the manor with me.” 
There was a moment of silence while you processed, though he seemed to interpret your silence as a form of rejection, “Of course, if you don’t feel ready that’s okay, we can take this at your pace, we can always—” 
“Bruce.” 
He stopped, his full attention on you. 
“I would love to move into the manor with you.” 
He smiled, genuine and bright, you felt as if you were looking into the warmth of the sun, the best part— this was the smile he saved only for you. 
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apollodeath · 8 months
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just read that 'playing prey' fic u did with konig I LOVE IT!!!!!
i was wondering if you can do an angsty one where reader gets really hurt and keeps trying but when konig finds them he lets them win cause there hurt :) thxxx
I LOVE THIS IDEA! I hope I wrote something you asked for 🫶🏻 it’s kinda long my bad.
18+ MDNI
It had been a few weeks after the last time you two had played. König was finishing up dishes from lunch and you sat on the back porch on your phone just scrolling.
The weather was finally cooling off and the breeze was nice enough to wear your favorite hoodie it was König’s and since you were outside you had brought comfortable shoes out with you.
König grabbed the glass door sliding it to the side stepping out with you, he took a deep breath of the fresh air and began to stretch his arms then moving to his legs.
"Stiff?" You asked with a little laugh. König grinned and looked at you.
"Something like that" he teased making you tilt your head.
"What do you mean?" You place your phone on the table next to you giving him full attention. He shrugs and continues stretching his back then touching his toes.
You admired him slightly flexing with each stretch but a buzz from your phone made you look away.
König stepped closer to you and kissed your head and put his phone right next to yours.
His timer was counting down from 5 minutes. The simple ticking of seconds made you feel so slow to start, jumping up and running off the porch, across your backyard, straight back into the woods behind your house. Your mind raced and so did your heart.
'How did I forget I agreed to this!' You thought. Panting already from fear less from running. You actually started to build stamina from these little games and also your memory of trees and paths were in bedded in your mind.
König watched you get farther and farther as he continues his running stretches. He reached in his pocket pulling out his mask placing it over his head and breathed in the smell of the fabric; it stilled smelled of dirt despite you washing it for him. He believes it might be just his mind tricking him to smell missions and gun smoke. Especially cause you said it smelt brand new.
His phone went off. Timers up. He started a light jog across the backyard into the woods.
You were down a couple paths and saw a good place to rest for a second ‘5 minutes are up... I think' you thought.
'So if I go a little farther.. the turn is on the right.’ You thought more of your next move. You got up and looked around before running towards your next marker.
König followed your tracks expertly, basically tracking you like a dog. His eyes ran over the dirt/mud paths as he runs but stopping to look around once he hears things go bump in the woods.
Once you got to the little hill that König's never found you at; you squat behind multiple bushes they're big enough to cover you well. You take this moment to look down and realize you're wearing your comfy house shoes.
"Oh, great" you whisper to yourself dusting them off or trying to. You realised the cold air made your lungs burn more, right then you hear something and freeze, listening closer.
‘there's no way he's this close.’ You thought.
You slowly peak your head out looking at the path you came from, or, of what you can see of it. He's there... but he's looking around and he's kinds far off from where you're hiding. You think you can out run him. Maybe.
You slowly move past the bushes going the opposite way. You keep your eyes on him until you can't and you're slowly crouch walking farther keeping out of site. Or so you think.
When you get past a few trees you feel confident enough to stand up and start running. You start but look back once more, just to check. He's staring right at you. You freak and start to push yourself harder, running off the path. Hoping the trees will make great cover.
Once König's eyes land on you you stick out in the fall colored wood. He smirks under his hood. Watching you run faster makes him take a few steps before beginning to run himself. He feels like an animal as his body reacts to seeing you, it's like his mouth is watering and his cock is starting to ache for touch. There's only been one other time König has ever caught you so fast and had his way with you. That time comes into his rancid mind:
He caught you in the middle of a path and wrestled you to the ground it wasn't hard. Once he had you on the ground in the open, no trees, no brushes to hide his heinous act. He had you on your belly as he striped you and took you repeatedly, he secretly hoped you two were being watched. The rush of someone witnessing him devour you made him cum over and over again. After that you had scuffed knees and he apologized but you admitted to him it turned you on seeing them after he left on deployment.
You were running for awhile in the deep thick woods but the sun was already low and it was a bit hard to see you came up on a path and realized you were actually close to your home.
You saw a smaller fallen tree and decided to hop over it but in doing so the other side had fallen branches which made you trip and fall. You catch yourself with your hands but you feel shooting pain in your ankle and wrap your hand around it to try and calm the pain.
“Fuck” you whispered to yourself. Looking around and you saw nothing but woods and the path a little up ahead so you scooted to behind a bush and a tree hiding as best as you could.
König watched from a distance as you fell. He was going to cut you off on your path home but once he saw you fall he paused and squatted quickly to be out of sight when you looked around.
You take a few seconds to calm your breath and check your ankle, it’s bruised and a bit scuffed but not too bad. You think for a minute ‘is it dumb for me to continue playing?’ You looking around and think ‘I could just hide really well until sunset’
The woods were already getting darker by the moment so you knew sunset was close. You slowly get up using the tree as a crutch and limp a little to a short pine tree then laying under its thick, low hanging branches. You curl up putting your hood on and your hands in the pockets of your König’s hoodie.
König slows his heart rate and breathing watching you hide. He’s more worried that you may be very hurt. He slowly walks closer and takes a prone position on the ground near you; enough to see you but you won’t see him.
You finally see the sunset and you can’t help but smile at the fact you’ve won. You crawl out from your hiding and start limping to the path that leads to your house. Your ankle is actually feeling a bit better you think.
König slowly approaches you he knows you’ve won the game but he still has to scare you at least once more.
He runs up making noise and swooping you up holding you like a child. You scream and start laughing as soon as you know it’s him.
“I win! You can’t do that!” You laugh and hold on to him as he carries you home.
“I’m not going to fuck you, Maus. Not until I check out your limp” he states seriously but also he can’t help but smile from your infectious laugh.
“Oh I fell…” you say with point to your bruised ankle.
“Oh I know.” König nods.
“You know?”
This is my first ever request and I’m so happy about it! ALSO THANK YOU ALL FOR 1K on “Playing Prey”
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gravedigginbbydoll · 8 months
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The Wolves of Hawkins Wood
werewolf! Eddie x F! Reader
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AN: BuT ArEn'T YoU on A BrEaK? mind ur business okay, stfu. jk jk I love y'all. I'm currently just taking a break from Hawkins University AU, but recently got an itch to write this. This'll be a super short little series probably and may contain smut but will mainly be fluff and angst! It will not be updated regularly, but it's just a side project for funsies. Also I will make a masterlist for it later, i swear! It's based off of The Wolves of Mercy Falls (one of my favorite favorite series), and meant to just be kinda cozy but spooky themed bc werewolves? Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: MDNI! possibly mature themes and smut in the future. Werewolves, injury, scars, animalistic violence, depression, identity struggles, near death experiences, trauma, love/ drawn to at first sight. MC is kinda a wolf girl? (i'm channeling and healing my childhood self, okay?)
Chapter One: Valruv
You had moved to Hawkins one winter, the bitter cold and snow new to you. The days consisted of you exploring the wilderness, the trees and snow all new to you. You took plenty of photographs, hoping your camera would capture the rawness of it all. You had wandered a bit too far one day, your foot slipping as you fell off a small ledge, spraining your ankle and breaking your arm. You shouted and groaned in pain, laying in the snow, skin going numb. You must’ve hit your head, the way your vision was going in and out. You felt your vision go black and your mind race. The next thing you knew, you woke up to yourself being dragged by the hood of your coat to the edge of your backyard and the forest. You panicked, trying to sit up slightly, feeling pain shoot up your arm. You winced, trying to turn your head instead. A large wolf with an almost light chocolate brown coat and warm brown eyes holding the hood of your jacket between gentle teeth, dragging you to the edge of the clearing. You felt your heart race but a sort of calmness washed over you. How did this wild creature know where you lived? The wolf soon bounded off, but not before staring at you with intelligent almost human eyes. 
You had received help after that, calling an ambulance with your good arm and letting your thoughts take over. You were helped and warned against being outside near the woods alone when the weather and conditions were not kind. You took the advice with a grain of salt, your mind still on those intelligent eyes. 
After that, you began to sit out on your deck every evening, watching for the wolf. You still couldn’t understand how it saved you or why. You would see the wolf and occasionally it’s pack every so often, a chill running down your spine and your heart picking up. Their howls pulled at your heart, the sound melodic and mournful. You felt drawn to them. You needed to know why.
Which led to you frequenting the bookstore, skimming shelves of nonfiction on wolves. You had so many questions. Why did the wolves here seemingly disappear in the spring and summer according to townsfolk? Why did that one save you? None of the books answered the questions. Not a single one. The weather was getting warmer and you still hadn’t found answers.
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You stood in the bookstore at the section you were at constantly, eyes skimming to try and find something new. You had no answers and just more questions. Hawkins itself was an odd town, what with the small population and ever present gossip, a persistent trend of individuals winding up missing. You found a slightly newer book, one with frayed backing and yellowed pages. You smiled at it, clearly happy you found something in the monotony of the usual visit. You walked up to the counter, rummaging through your bag and not looking up, placing the book on the counter. 
“Just this?” 
The low and unfamiliar timbre of the voice caused you to look up, your breath catching in your throat. A tall man with unruly brown curls stood before you, his eyes a warm brown. It seemed he was littered in tattoos and silver jewelry. He wore a worn out Megadeth shirt, the black faded to an almost gray. You looked up into his eyes, feeling your face heat up. His eyes…reminded you of the wolf. You also didn’t recognize the man, which was saying a lot as Hawkins was a small town. You nodded at the stranger, pulling out a twenty to pay him. You felt your mouth moving and heard the words come out before you could stop yourself. 
“Are you new here?” 
He rang you up and took the bill, blinking a bit in surprise at your question but then smiling a crooked grin, dimples appearing. 
“No, I just visit when the weather gets warm. My Uncle Wayne lives in town.” 
You nod, grabbing your book and heading off. Your mind still swimming with questions…but now a small piece was also consumed by the stranger.
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The next time you ran into the stranger, you were talking a walk along the edge of the wood, lost in thought. You were staring up at the trees, oblivious to your surroundings. You felt a shoulder bump yours and you flinched, turning to apologize. 
You saw his eyes first, the warm brown tone still causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stick up. You looked up at him in apology, voice soft. 
“Sorry, I was looking at the trees.” 
He chuckled, shaking his head. His unruly brown curls were now in a messy bun, making his eyes more visible. You smelled wood on him…bark, dirt, crisp air, sweet and almost over ripened fruit. Along with something musky and almost…animal-like. You wanted to inhale the scent. 
“It’s alright. They’re beautiful.” 
He stared unabashedly at you while saying it. You felt your stomach twist in nervousness and your heart leap as your face heated up slowly. You grinned and gave a pathetic excuse for needing to go, dashing off in the other direction to stamp down the feelings.
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The next time you saw the stranger was unexpected.
You were headed to the local bar in town, clearly tired from a long day at your 9 to 5, wishing you didn’t have to pay bills on top of your Photography gig. You opted to meet a cute coworker here, swayed by his charming smile. But truthfully, all you could do is worry about where the wolves had gone. Where your wolf had gone. You ordered an easy drink, something like a Rum and Coke, and sat at the bar in thought. You were pulled out of your daze when the stranger came out onto the bar's very pathetic excuse for a stage, a red electric guitar slung across his back. You watched as he and group of guys began setting up their instruments. 
You studied him openly, thankful that his back was facing you for the most part. His hair was up again in that messy tuft of curls. He wore a band t-shirt that had the sleeves cut off, his arms on full display. You could see now in the stage light the pretty ink decorating his skin and the chunks and patches of silvery pink flesh that were scars. He had a few on his arms and one on his shoulder. You couldn’t help but wonder what it was from, as they didn’t look like an average scar from a cut or falling off a bike. They also seemed like…chunks of flesh bitten out and scarred over.
You quickly turned to face your drink when he turned around, feeling embarrassed for your silly obsession. Just…something about him was so…intriguing.
The stranger seemed to walk up to the mic, tapping his finger on it before his cheerful and energetic voice came through the speakers. You kept yourself from turning around.
“Heyo, Hawkins! I’m Eddie, this is Gareth, Jeff, and Rich! We’re Corroded Coffin and-” 
Your eavesdropping (could you call it that if he was announcing his presence to the bar?) was cut short when your coworker, Tommy, showed up. He scrunched his nose in the direction of the stage before smiling down at you. 
“Lemme pay for your drink and we can head somewhere…quieter.” 
You nodded, Eddie and his band in the background, but you could clearly hear his melodic singing voice and his impressive guitar skills. You tried to ignore it.
Tommy paid for your drink, grabbing your hand and helping you off the chair, guiding you by the arm towards the door. You could somehow still feel those powerful brown eyes on you. 
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Winter was creeping in, winds crisp and the scent of fall fading. You mourned the loss of fall. The sidewalks no longer filled with the familiar crackle of fallen leaves, the scent of apples and fresh rain now replaced by icy sleet and the smell of smoky firewood. But at least it meant you could be provided some comfort by the wolves. 
You had recently started feeding them, leaving out little pieces of meat at the edge of the clearing, watching through the window as they would grab it and run off. You even got to feed your wolf, smiling as it ate the meat gently from your hand and you gently pet its scruff, the smell of the wild woods still in its fur. It was an intelligent animal, and you wanted a way to express your gratitude for the creature saving you. 
However, it seemed your efforts led to more damage than good.
The wolves seemed to be closer to town, and after the disappearance of Chrissy Cunningham and her fiance Jason Carver claiming she was dragged away and mauled by wolves, the town was issuing a hunt on the local pack. The mayor was clearly pressured by the townsfolk to carry it out. The mayor urged people to stay inside as they attempted to drive out the wolves. You felt your heart squeeze at the idea, seized by fear at the thought of never seeing your wolf again.
You stood on the edge of the clearing, hoping and praying maybe the mayor would give up. Maybe the young Chrissy had run away, disillusioned by her seemingly perfect life. In the midst of this tumbling string of thoughts, you spotted a familiar outline in the trees of a wolf, clearly unstable and stumbling. You walked over cautiously, seeing your wolf stumble out into the clearing near your house, the poor creature’s fur caked in blood. You saw the wolf stumble and you felt your heart seize. How could you help it? What would-
And then you saw the wolf lay and curl up, seeming to shake and whine as a muzzle shortened and fur peeled back, limbs lengthening. You stood there, heart pounding as you stared down at the creature- no, the human. 
There on the ground lay a naked and shivering Eddie, curls free and matted with blood, a pale hand pressed against his neck as his eyes rolled back and fluttered weakly. 
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