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partially-controlled-chaos · 10 months ago

Text

New Life Shall Prosper, ch. 2

Pairing: Halsin x Reader (as gender neutral as possible, given the context)

Rating: T? (not really smut but there's some heavily implied in previous chapters. pregnancy related bits, tad bit of gore)

Warnings: There's not full blown smut but it borders on the edge, mentions of illness and pregnancy, mostly just fluff

Summary: Months after the fall of the Absolute, you and Halsin have carved a happy life for yourselves within Thaniel's Realm, making a safe haven for all. A life full of hope and prosperity, only enhanced once you discover the very real possibility that you are with child.

Word Count: 11.5K

an: This ended up taking so long because it went through three rewrites and it's still massive. BUT I did finally get it posted. There will be one more chapter, possibly two with how I shifted some things, but there's at least one more coming! Thankfully, because I did rewrite and move some things around, about half of the next chapter is already written. Mostly proofread, but I was tired when I posted this so I'll update it later for any mistakes. Thank you to everyone that has enjoyed this so far!!

Follow up to this post.

Read on AO3 here if you prefer!

Find chapter 1 here! Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Masterlist

Loving, tender kisses peppering your exposed shoulder and a heavy dip in the bed roused you from your slumber. Slowly, your eyes blinked open as they adjusted to the light, your vision blurry until you could make sense of your surroundings. You recognized the lumbering shape of your beloved druid. With a content smile on his lips, Halsin loomed over you; his arms supporting his weight above your head as his knees dug into the bed by your hip, causing your body to slightly slope downward.

“Good morning, my heart,” he said softly, “how did you sleep?”

“Fine, but I would do better if you would let me sleep a bit longer, love.” You said groggily as you turned your face from the beaming sun. You heard Halsin chuckle as he littered more slow kisses to your cheek.

“As much as I would love to, dear heart, I’m only doing what you asked of me.” You groaned as you buried your face to your pillow, his comment jogging your memory from the night before as he slid from atop you. Since your discovery that you were with child, you’d noticed significant changes to your energy levels. Being one to typically rise early, you’d found yourself sleeping in later each morning and desiring a nap around mid afternoon. Not that you wouldn’t mind to sleep in every once in a while, it just wasn’t suitable to your current lifestyle. You and Halsin were both early to rise and late to bed, filling your day with growing and expanding the area you now called home. Plants needed harvesting, home needed building, children needed enrichment and growth, and all of it simply couldn’t be done if you slept half the day away.

So, to counteract your sudden inability to wake up at a decent hour, you had practically begged Halsin to wake you in the mornings if you were still asleep when he returned from his daily patrols. He reluctantly agreed, wanting you to rest in accordance to what your body wanted, citing that you should be listening to the call of nature and not the call of a city. When you had finally convinced him, you made him promise that he would make sure you would rise and not go back to sleep, something you could kick yourself for now that the moment had come.

“Come on, my love,” he said as he pulled the blankets from your body and exposed you to the cool air of the room, “there’s much to do today and I made a promise.” With a groan of false annoyance, you rubbed your eyes and finally sat up. Halsin stretched out along side you, effectively taking up as much of the bed as he could to dissuade you from crawling back in. His head rested on a closed fist, sitting up partially to still make conversation.

“And what business do we have planned for today that requires such an early start?” You asked as you draped your legs over the edge of the bed, your arms stretching high above your head with interlocked fingers as your back arched forward. When you were done, you glanced over to Halsin after not hearing a response and you found him gazing at you. His eyes slowly traced along your body, a tender smile across his face the lower his eyes traveled.

“Or did you have something else in mind?” You asked in a low voice as you reclined back as best you could, given that the bulk of his frame was in the way.

“With you? Always,” Halsin said with a smirk before offering you an affectionate kiss to the lips, “but there are some matters that require our attention.” His smile had faded by the time the final words left his mouth and his face had lost its softness. It seemed that his need to wake you stretched beyond your request for a wake up call.

“Is something wrong?” You asked as you straightened again. The change in his demeanor was enough cause for concern for your to snap out of your groggy state of mind. Since the fall of the Absolute, there had been very few times that you’d seen Halsin return to his duty driven mindset and he was teetering dangerously close to that precipice. Something was gnawing at his mind, although you weren’t sure what.

“Not quite, but there’s potential. It’s… it’s better if I just show you. Let’s take a walk when you’re dressed.” With a slight degree of hesitation, you made your way to your feet and began to dress. With a lingering yawn you tugged on your small clothes to cover yourself a bit more as you toyed with your hair, trying to your best to brush away the evidence of sleep. You smiled to yourself as you noticed Halsin watching your every step, his admiration for you never faltering even if you did the most mundane of tasks. He looked as if he was lost in a daze; his expression was no more than a lazy smile and half-lidded eyes.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” you said as you caught his gaze, “you’re going to have to do something about it.” With a hearty laugh and a quick shake of his head, the druid sat up from the bed, his eyes still glued to your body.

“Although you are the epitome of nature perfected, my heart, you’re not picking up on what I am.” You raised an eyebrow, your head cocking at the comment.

“And what would that be?” You asked softly. Without another word, he made his way to his feet, offering his hand for you to take with a knowing smile.

He guided you to the standing mirror by the water basin, turning you until your back was pressed to his chest and you both were reflected in the glass. You watched the reflection as his head leaned forward, pressing the softest of kisses to your still bare shoulder as his hands traveled the length of your body, stopping along your waist. You felt his hands lightly grip your hips, angling them forward until he had you in the perfect position. When his hand left your hip and slowly caressed the skin under your navel, you finally realized what Halsin was so transfixed on observing. There, in the reflection of your mirror, you noticed the slightest of swells to your lower belly. It wasn’t a large bump, but nevertheless it was the smallest of bumps beginning to form. After weeks of seeing no progress, you were now staring at the reflection of a pregnant belly.

“Hells, I hadn’t even noticed,” you said softly as you turned your reflection in the mirror to make sure you saw what you thought you did, “and when did you make this discovery, dear bear?” Your eyes were stuck to your reflection, wholeheartedly admiring the tiny bulge of your lower belly. Although you were still early on in your pregnancy, just seeing the evidence of your growing child filled you with an immense sense of joy and almost disbelief. Until now, the idea of being with child didn’t seem real. Other than a bit of morning sickness and being a bit more tired than normal, at times you forgot you were carrying a child. But now, with the proof of one in front of your eyes, it felt more than real.

“Last night,” he whispered in your ear, “after your bath.” You hummed softly as the memory of the previous night flickered in your mind. You had just barely stepped from your bath before you had felt Halsin’s lips and hands caressing your skin and curves, ravishing you until you both needed another washing.

“Well, then,” you said playfully, “that explains your sudden urge last night.” Halsin said nothing, but the low growl and gentle bite to your earlobe confirmed your statement.

After lingering a few moments more to admire the growing bump to your frame, Halsin’s hands left your hips and left you to finish dressing for the day. You said nothing to each other as you hoisted up a pair of trousers and clean shirt, however the silence between you was not strained. Something was on Halsin’s mind, but whatever it was, was not directed towards you. When you had finished dressing and signaled you were ready to go, you were met with the same loving gaze and tender touches. This set your mind a little more at ease even though you were still curious as to what had gotten the druid so tense. It must be something in the community, perhaps the sense of duty, or maybe an issue with one of the refugees. Either way, you were determined to help him through it and set him at east once again.

You walked through your home together, hand in hand, and walked at a pace that wasn’t quite a stroll, but also wasn’t hurried. It had been a while since you had walked the city together, usually preferring to go your own ways and meeting again at the end of the day, so you quite enjoyed the change of schedule. Halsin’s large hand engulfed your own, holding it securely and offering a sense of peace and protection. You eventually made your way to the opposite side of the town, stepping from the cobblestone streets and into the beginning of the wood line.

“Where are we going? I thought we had business in town?” You asked as you continued your stroll, making note of the slightly firmer grasp that he now had on your hand.

“Business, yes, but it’s out in the forest on the outskirts of the town.” Halsin’s vague answers made your shoulders tense. You were not opposed to surprised, but you felt that this one would most certainly be unwelcome.

“Care to enlighten me? You’re not one to keep secrets, my dear.” You nudged Halsin with your shoulder as you walked, hoping it would make him open up and no longer keep you in the dark. You were impatient, wanting only to see what he was leading you to.

“I promise, it’ll be easier if I just show you, just be patient. We’re close now though, as much as it pains me to say it.” You picked up on the slightest hint of dread in his voice, the droop on his face only confirming your observation.

Admittedly, you had been utterly confused by Halsin, not understanding his sudden hesitancy to explain anything. He was always open with you, even with the most grueling of topics, and you were thankful for that. Both because you appreciated being in the loop of knowledge, but also because you didn’t want him to share the brunt of responsibility alone. He had done that enough in the past and it was high time he was able to share his burdens. Before the fall of Ketheric Thorm, you had made a promise to Halsin to help him through any hardships and even though it had been some time since you’d defeated Ketheric, your promise still stood. It always would. It was your vow to him and you were determined to uphold it.

After some time, you both had made your way to a small clearing on the outskirts of your established community on the line where your home met untamed wilderness. With your hand still firmly in his grasp, Halsin took you to one of the first trees along the tree line, walking you to the backside. There, just above your line of sight, was a symbol meticulously carved into the bark. A skull seated partially in a triangle, the outstretched fingers of a hand adorning it like a crown. You recognized the symbol immediately and a familiar twinge of unease settled in your stomach and your breath caught in your throat. Months after the battle, you were staring at the freshly carved symbol of the Absolute.

“I noticed it yesterday when I was roaming,” Halsin’s voice broke the silence and the tension of the moment, “a defilement of nature and a perfectly good scratching post.”

“By the gods.” You whispered softly as your eyes spotted the marking on the tree. You reached out slowly, your fingertips barely grazing the carved symbol in the tree, almost afraid that it would hurt you in some way.

“You’re certain this is new? This isn’t a remnant of a few months ago?” You knew the answer, but still felt the need to ask. It was a fresh, clean mark; something that had only happened in the past day or so. But, there was one small part of you that hoped and prayed it was a relic from all those months ago.

“Oh, very.” He said as he traced his finger along the carving, “Look at the flesh of the tree. It’s still weeping sap and the cut hasn’t yet browned. It’s recent, my heart.”

Your breathing was slow and methodical, an attempt to keep your rising fears at arms length. For a brief moment the idea crossed your mind that somehow the Netherbrain had survived the final battle and was once again enchanting mind flayer tadpoles, but you were certain this wasn’t true. The Netherstones had done their job of convincing the brain to destroy itself and there was no denying that the same brain that had sunk into waters surrounding the city was anything other than dead.

You then remembered the dying man and his siblings you had met on the road very early on in your journey. The man had been infected with the parasite, but his siblings remained free from a worm of their own crawling in their brains. However, they still followed the teachings and the call of the Absolute, despite not being True Souls themselves. You quickly realized that this mark wasn’t left by someone infected with the tadpole, but by someone who still believed in the Absolute. Someone who believed in the teachings and the power it offered enough to begin a resurgence of the cult, even if there were no tadpoles. The idea wasn’t that far fetched. You knew of plenty of instances where cults or even important figures that had fanatics that carried on the legacy of the entity. The most notable one that could come to mind were the handful of people that served the Szarr palace in the hopes of serving a vampiric lord simply because they were enthralled by him.

“I don’t think it’s cause for concern just yet, although we must be vigilant.” He said as he pulled is hand from the bark, “I roamed the woods the entirety of yesterday as well as this morning. This is the only symbol I can find and I haven’t found anyone lingering. Whoever left it, left it as a warning, but is gone from the area.”

“You don’t think it could be someone in town, do you?” You asked after you’d worked your way through your thoughts.

“It’s possible, but highly unlikely. You know them better than I do, so you must know how everyone feels about the Absolute. These are children and adults who lost their homes and had their lives uprooted because of this cult, I don’t believe anyone would be a follower. Unless you think otherwise?”

“No, not at all,” you said as you continued to observe the marking, “but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. As you said, remain vigilant. Let’s see what comes of this.”

“I sent out a scouting party late in the afternoon. They plan on looking further into the forest and beyond to see if they can pick up on any trail. I would go myself, but if there is no pressing need for me to go out then I would prefer to stay here. I have many people I want to protect.” He lightly pressed his hand to your newly discovered bump, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

With another brief look to the symbol, you were ready to leave and return to the safety of your home. You understood why Halsin would always patrol the community and the surrounding area each morning, but you never thought anything would ever come of it. Maybe it was the lull of a peaceful home or perhaps you had just gone soft after the final battle, but this new discovery had caught you off guard. Any sort of resurgence of the cult could lead to disastrous consequences and it threatened the safety of your very home. There were already so many men and women that had been lost and displaced, not to mention the dozen upon dozens of orphaned children you were now in charge of, and the thought that they could face it all again made a shiver run down your spine. To top it off, you were now welcoming your own little one into the world; a world you assumed was safe.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said as you began the long walk home, “I’m not sure what to make of it, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

“Don’t let it burden your mind and unsettle your nerves, my heart,” Halsin said as he reclaimed your hand with his, “our home is safe.” You pulled Halsin’s arm around you as you walked, allowing his hand to rest on your lower back as you leaned into his frame. He was right, for the time being your home and community were safe, and you felt even safer being wrapped in his embrace.

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

It had been many weeks since your discovering of the carving in the woods and thankfully everything remained quiet. Life carried on as it had been and you frequently tucked the memory into the far recesses of your mind. You sat cross-legged on your bed, the back of Halsin’s hand rested on your rounded belly as you carefully plucked splinter after splinter from his fingertips. You gently traced your fingers over his, feeling for any more pieces of wood stuck under his skin. Although he was already a skilled whittler, Halsin had recently taken up woodworking. It was a hobby you found to be surprising, but when you learned he desired to master the craft simply because he wanted to hand carve a crib for your little one, you couldn’t be happier. Since then, you always made it a point to pluck any pieces of wood from his fingers.

The partially completed crib sat against the wall of your bedroom, still needing a few finishing touches before it ready for a sleeping baby, but there was still time before it would be needed. Despite needing a bit of sanding and polishing, the crib was absolutely beautiful and incredibly detailed. It taken him a few weeks, but in that short time he had crafted the piece completely by hand and with copious amounts of love. He had even gone so far as to carve the smallest of details along the head of the crib; a parade of carved bear cubs wandering through the beauty of nature and swirls that mimicked the patterns of his tattoos adorned the wood panelling.

With a final look over his hands, you had decided that you’d pulled out any remaining fragments of wood, lifting his large hand from your belly. You held your palm against Halsin’s, taking note in the difference in size. His hands engulfed yours, two of his knuckles easily able to overshadow your fingertips if he were to bend them. Your eyes traveled from his hands and along his arms, observing just how large they actually were and how they seemingly continued to grow at they reached his broad shoulders. You laced your fingers with his as you continued to look him over, not noticing the adoring look on Halsin’s face in the process.

“Is something troubling you, my heart?” He asked as he brought your hand to his lips, softly kissing your fingers.

“Not at all,” you said as his voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you shifted to your regular spot on the bed, “just doing a bit of thinking.” You adjusted the pillows under your head until you were comfortable on your side. With a gentle pat, you motioned for Halsin to join you.

“Do tell, my heart.” He followed your invitation, reclining on his side as well, positioning his head against his hand as he gazed down at you. Gods, you would never tire of the way he looked at you. His gaze was always filled with the utmost admiration and infatuation, which had only increased in the recent months.

“You are rather large for an elf, you know.” You brought your hand to your head, mirroring Halsin’s pose as you spoke.

“Is that so?” Halsin cocked an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his lips at your comment.

“Oh hush, love,” you said with a chuckle, “you know I mean no harm. It just has me wondering about this dear little one of ours.” You ran your hand along the side of your belly with the thought, still in disbelief that you would be having a child in a few months.

“Are you afraid our child might be taller than you one day?” He teased, placing his hand atop yours, seemingly sensing the worry gnawing at your mind.

“Not at all, but I am worried about having to somehow birth a baby the size of quasit if they end up taking after your size.” You chuckled softly, although the thought was seriously lingering in your mind. Elves and half-elves were typically small in build, but Halsin was of course no normal elf. Simply comparing the size of his hands to yours indicated just how big he truly was. So it was very well in the realm of possibility that your newborn would be well above average in size.

“I don’t think they’ll be quite that large my heart,” Halsin said as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone, “but even if they are, I’ll be there for you. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” You whispered. Despite facing the end of the world, the idea of childbirth terrified you. You knew the risks associated with the birthing process and it was a daunting prospect. Healing couldn’t be offered until after the actual birth, so knowing you’d have to endure the hours long process without aid unsettled you.

“Will you be there?” You asked after a moment. You knew it was a dumb question; Halsin wouldn’t dare the miss the birth of his first child or leave you to deal with the trauma of birth alone, but with your hormones fluctuating the way they did, it was nice to have the confirmation.

“Of course, my heart. It’s not even a question.” He quickly kissed your lips in reassurance, “Put your mind at ease. I will be there for the entirety and afterwards.”

Halsin pulled you towards him, nuzzling his nose against the crown of your head, kissing it softly. In turn, you rested your face across the expanse of his chest, taking in his natural warmth and scent as you felt his hand slowly run along your back, soothing your worry. You hummed as you melted against his touch, your muscles finally relaxing after a long day.

“Have you heard anything about the symbols you found?” You asked after a long yawn, the desire for sleep finally catching up to you.

“Last I heard,” Halsin said after a long period of silence, as if he was hesitant to say anything, “there was a small group of followers to the north. Goblins, mostly. And a few orcs if what the scouts have said can be relied upon. Don’t let it bother you tonight, my heart. It can be discussed in the morning.” With your eyes suddenly heavy, you didn’t argue his plea.

Given that it had been many moons since you first discovered the markings on the tree, you weren’t too concerned with the lingering cultists being an immediate threat, but it still crossed your mind frequently. Between the ministrations along your back and sound of Halsin’s steady heartbeat against your ear, you found yourself drifting off to sleep, securely nestled in the embrace of Halsin’s strong arms.

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

“It’s a good thing I’m better a wielding a sword than I am a knitting needle,” you said as you observed your work, “otherwise we’d all be mind flayers by now.” You held up the infant sized sweater you’d spent an hour knitting, your nose scrunching in distain when you realized not only was it far too big for a newborn, but lopsided with different lengths on the sleeves and a warbled neckline.

“Well,” Halsin said with a chuckle as he looked up from his whittling, “let us give thanks that nature has blessed you with other talents.” Although he had already finished the beautifully crafted crib, his whittling hobby had picked up even more now that you were close to your due date. Small ducklings, bear cubs, tiny bunnies, and even squirrel kits were all figures he had started carving, the idea of having a child of his own clearly influencing his design choices. Lately, many quiet afternoons were spent like this, with you and your beloved elf taking much needed downtime together, happily preparing for the arrival of your little one.

“I’m sorry,” you said with feigned hurt, “but are you telling me that this isn’t the beauty of natures creation?” You saw his attempt to hide the smirk threatening to come across his face as he eyed your knitting once more, chewing on the side of his lip to keep it from rising.

“I would, but you made it, my heart, not nature.” You snorted and playfully knocked Halsin’s arm with yours before unraveling your hard work in an attempt to remake it.

The two of you were lounging in the center of town, reclined against the large oak that had miraculously been renewed with life when the shadow curse had been lifted. You leaned against one of Halsin’s large arms more than the tree, trying to find some relief for your aching back. If your calculations were correct, you still had roughly two months left before you were set to give birth, but you were heavily struggling with the physical toll it took on your body. Your back frequently ached and pain would settle in your hips, making sitting anywhere absolutely abysmal, not to mention trying to get up by yourself.

Despite this, you could never say you were too burdened with your condition. Halsin always went out of his way to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, which always filled you with a sense of adoration and love. He was always quick to offer a soothing back rub if your muscles were tense from a long day or if the pressure from your growing little one made your bones ache, making sure to massage deeply and slowly until you melted under his touch. Or if you were overtaken by a sudden craving for a particular food, he would be sure to bring you whatever you desired to your hearts content. He would frequently soothe your emotions if you were overcome with confusing hormones, being by your side until you worked through whatever was plaguing you and would stay until he could see you smile again.

In all of this, his desire for you never faltered; if anything, it was stronger than ever. It wasn’t always sexual, however. His desire to just be close to you only grew stronger the more your abdomen grew. Gentle touches across your back, arms touching when sitting together during supper, holding you snugly against his body while you slept; anything to stay close to you. The same sentiment held true even in ursine form, of course. You frequently found yourself sitting beneath a tree or in a sunny field with the head of your bear placed gently in your lap during a midday nap or felt a wet nose nuzzling against your swollen belly.

Not to say that his more intimate desires for you wavered in the slightest. It was hard enough for you to keep your hands off each other before the discovery of your pregnancy, but had only intensified since. Many nights were spent in each others embrace and were filled with soft kisses and playful bites. Each time was always gentle and seemed to feel more loving than the last. In every aspected you could imagine, Halsin was the perfect partner; not that you had imagined any less from him. The love you had for him had only intensified in the recent months and you could see the same sentiment reflected from him each time you caught him staring at you. His eyes always filled with softness and love, something that made your heart melt on a daily basis.

A shift in placement of your baby made you grunt, your side now aching with the pressure of some appendage now pressing into your ribcage. You sat up from your position against the druid, leaning forward and side to side to try and stop the pain. As much as you loved the feeling of the tiny bits of movement here and there, you couldn’t help but groan whenever the child landed in a particularly inconvenient spot. Occasionally you’d feel a kick here and there, but you mostly just felt the entire body of your child moving in your abdomen. Despite being near you constantly, Halsin had yet to feel a kick or a bit of movement from your belly. It always seemed to stop when he placed a hand on your stomach to feel for movement. You felt them, of course, but wished Halsin could do the same.

“Is everything all right?” Halsin asked as he noticed your movements. He placed his whittling knife and piece he’d been working on to the side, turning more towards you in the process. His large hand slowly worked its way up and down your back, trying to rub out any knot or muscle tension.

“Oh yes,” you said with a sharp inhale, “I just feel as if I have a foot in my ribs. Right in here.” You took his hand in yours, sliding it from your back to the side of your belly where the pain was, hoping he would finally have his change to feel the baby move. His thumb lightly caressed your stomach in an attempt to encourage the tiny little foot to move.

“Well, given the circumstance, I’d wager and say you probably do.” He said with a laugh. As the discomfort in your side finally subsided, you found yourself reclining on your hands with your legs extended in front of you. The change of position seemed to move your little one just enough to alleviate the discomfort and you finally had a moment of relaxation. Your head fell back and lightly brushed against the trunk of the tree, your eyes closing as you felt a gentle breeze across your face.

Halsin’s hand remained on your belly, gently running it along the side and around the front until it eventually settled on top. With a deep sigh you finally opened your eyes, your head rolling to the side to meet Halsin’s gaze. However, instead of meeting your eyes, his own were fixed to his hand atop your stomach, a grin spreading across his lips the more he lingered, but there was the faintest hint of something else in his eyes.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” You asked softly as you took in his expression. He was lost in thought, his mind drifting as you both sat in the coolness of the shade and you returned to your former position. Your hand rested atop his for a moment before sliding up his forearm and back down, the ministrations finally grabbing his attention from his deep concentration.

“Everything,” Halsin said after a long pause, “as always. But I have to admit that as of late I find myself worrying about you, mostly, my heart.”

“How do I worry you? Is it the baby?” You asked, surprised at his answer, “Please, tell me. Let me ease your mind. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to me.”

“Well, partially it’s the child. In my many years I’ve seen countless others give birth and I’m aware of the risks. I know the dangers child bearing can bring and leave in its aftermath. So I have my concerns in relation to that, but most of my concerns lay outside of that.” His palm light trailed across the expanse of your belly; his touch soft and loving.

“Tell me, then, please.” You lightly brushed a few stray strands of hair from his face, tucking them behind a pointed ear.

“We’ve discussed this before, but I have to ask,” he paused as he spoke, that rare look of vulnerability flashing across his face as he tried to form his words, “are you happy? Truly happy? With everything that’s come after the Netherbrain, I mean. Can you say for certain that you are satisfied and content with the life we’ve built here?”

“Halsin, my love, I couldn’t have dreamed of a happier life.” The hand that had brushed through his hair came down his neck and finally rested on his chest, directly above his heart. “Why would you even need to ask such a question?”

“To ease my mind, I suppose. I pulled you from a life of praise and newfound opulence that came from saving Baldur’s Gate only to thrust you into a life of quiet, often thankless, servitude. I just want to be certain that this life is something you want and not something I’ve forced you into; especially now that you are so close to having a child. I don’t want you to have regrets.” He spoke quietly but surely.

“I don’t want or need the praise and wealth the city offered. You, though? You I need. And I can’t go without you for even a second. I chose to leave with you to build a life here because that’s what I wanted. We both did. You didn’t force me into anything. In fact, if my memory serves me correctly, I had to practically beg to convince you that it’s what I wanted, did I not?”

“Oh yes,” he said with a slight smile, “I believe I recall you calling me an ass.”

“I was terrified of you turning me away!” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, “You can’t blame me for my words when I wanted nothing more than to follow you and be by your side. And to this day there is nothing I want more. I would choose this life we’ve built and I would choose you again and again.”

You leaned forward slightly, trailing your hand back up along his neck and chest until it rested on his cheek, gently pulling his head towards you until your foreheads met in a gentle caress. You’d come to adore your frequent forehead touches with the elf, almost enjoying them more than a kiss in a moment like this. It was a simple, intimate gesture that brought the both of you so much comfort in moments of insecurity and uncertainty.

“And I would do this all over again in every lifetime, my love. In every possible form we may find ourselves in. All without an ounce of hesitation or regret. And now that we’re having a child? My dearest love, my heart is full. We have built something truly wonderful not only in this community we call home, but something wonderful and beautiful in this tiny little child we’ve created.” You lingered against his skin for a moment more before finally pulling away, your hand still cupping his cheek as you spoke again.

“Halsin, please, don’t every worry that you’ve taken me from something. In reality, you have given me the greatest gift possible. Release those fears from your mind. They hold no weight here.” You whispered softly before pressing a gentle kiss to his tattooed cheek.

“You truly are a gift from Silvanus himself, my heart. You’ve brought back the youthful optimism and stamina of this old, pardon…older druid, my heart.” You smirked at his attempt to remember your distain for referring to himself as old, appreciating the effort.

“Trust me love, if my condition is any indication of how spry you are, I’d say you have the vigor of someone just barely over a hundred.” You said as you began to recline back again. Not satisfied with your quick contact from earlier, he gently took your chin in his grasp and pulled you to him until your lips softly connected. A string of slow, soft kisses soon followed, along with praises coming from each of you after each brush of your lips.

Shouting from across the town square broke the serenity of the moment. You and Halsin both turned in the direction of the commotion, instincts immediately springing into action at the sound. Screams of terror and anger could be heard behind you, steadily growing louder. You were still struggling to even begin to get up when Halsin told you to stay where you were; a command more than a request. Before you had time to argue, Halsin had rushed the the cause of commotion, leaving you on the ground struggling to stand.

“Gods above.” You muttered to yourself as you finally managed to get to your feet, using the tree as support in the process. As quickly but as carefully as you could as to avoid disrupting your little one, you hurried to the sound of the commotion, despite Halsin’s request fo you to stay put.

You had gotten to the town square just in time to see what the commotion was. The freshly deceased body of a war painted goblin was splayed along the ground, its throat having been quickly sliced apart by the enraged cave bear looming over the corpse. You immediately knew the bear to be Halsin, who had no doubt changed at the first sight of the attacking goblin. Two other goblins had accompanied the deceased one, but had quickly turned tail in fear at the emergence of the bear. Not to the surprise of anyone in the community, Halsin quickly chased after them, releasing a roar loud and deep enough that you could feel the reverberations in your body. He would no doubt make quick work of the intruders, giving you the chance to ensure there were no other lingering goblins or nasties before checking in on any potential injuries.

With your hand placed on the underside of your belly for support, you squatted next to the slain goblin, taking note of the silver pendant hanging around its neck. You felt a cold chill run down your spine when you saw the symbol of the Absolute within the safety of your home. Anger surged within you as well, cruising yourself for not handling this problem sooner. Thank the gods that no one was injured, other than the goblin, but the experience was enough to shake everyone. Thaniel’s Realm was meant to be a sanctuary for the lost and lonely, safe from threats of any kind and a place to live in harmony with nature. Now, however, that safety had been shattered and danger was no longer a looming threat, but a real and bloody reality.

You spent the rest of the afternoon checking in with everyone, ensuring their safety and checking for wounds. The children of the realm were shaken by the events of the day, but they were resilient. They had faced too many hardships and dangers with the threat of a mind flayer invasion and Netherbrain control for them to be running from a handful of goblins, but you wanted to be there to lend a hand to hold and a lap to sit on if needed. The nightly supper and bedtime stories for the children continued as usual once the remnants of the mutilated goblin had been cleared away, the usual nightly feel of home returning once everyone had a full belly. You walked home quietly, your mind racing with the events of the day and your emotions high strung. With a grunt of effort you sat on the few steps that led to entrance of your home. You sat in silence, absentmindedly running your hands along the expanse of your stomach as you waited for your druid to return.

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It was well past nightfall by the time Halsin finally returned home to you, bloodied and still in bear form. Even though you were certain would never harm you while in wild shape, there was no denying just how intimidating his form was. His snout was absolutely drenched in goblin blood, splatter even reaching to the top of his head, and you could feel the hot pants of his breath against your legs as he approached. There was the faintest glow still present in his eyes, making it very clear that he was still deeply angry about the situation at hand. The low growls emitting from his chest could be felt in your bones as you gently reached out to place a hand on the underside of his chin. You could feel his pulse begin to return to normal as your fingers brushed against his pulse point, despite the thick layer of fur between his skin and your fingers.

“Come along love,” you said to your bear softly, “let’s get you cleaned up.” His sharp claws were also covered in blood, bits of flesh and cloth dangling from a few of them. Given the sight of him, you didn’t want to imagine what was left of the goblins that had stormed your home, if there even remains at all. Either way, Halsin was drenched in assorted viscera and could do for a warm bath; both to clean and to soothe.

Once you pulled your hand from his chin, the bear erupted in a familiar flash of light, ending the wild shape of the bear and transfiguring Halsin back to an elf, who was just as bloody as the bear. He was still breathing heavily after the transformation, remaining silent as he rolled his neck and shoulders and shook out any remaining feelings of the bear. He closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself a calming breath before look back to you, his gaze much softer but no less expressive. Despite the intense rage you had witness earlier, he was as gentle as ever with you. With a soft touch, he helped you to your feet before quickly looking over you, checking for injuries. After reassuring Halsin that you and your child were fine, you led him inside and drew him a warm bath.

Once he had seated himself in the water of the washtub, he began to calm and relax more, the temperature of the water helping to ease any remaining tension in his muscles. After he had seemed to cool off a bit, you set to work. With a soft cloth and a gentle touch, you began washing the dark blood from his face. Starting with his forehead and working your way down, you worked quietly, not sure of what to say to ease his mind more. With each wipe of his face, you dunked the soft cloth back into the water to rinse it before returning to his skin. When you wiped away the last of the blood from his chin, he finally spoke.

“We cannot afford to sit idly anymore.” He said as you shifted your attention to the rest of his body, wiping along his chest and down his arms meticulously.

“No,” you murmured as you checked for wounds along his shoulders and arms, “we can’t. We can head out in the morning? The next day perhaps? Figure out where the group is, how strong they are, look at the defenses-” Your speech was quickly cut off before you could finish your thought.

“We? I hope you’re not suggesting that you come along as well.” His brows knitted together at your response, utterly bewildered that you would even suggest such a thing.

“Of course I am,” you said quickly, “I can’t sit at home and twiddle my thumbs and expect you to handle it all. I told you when we first came here that we share the responsibility of our home. It’s not your burden to bear alone, Halsin.”

“And you have done an absolutely beautiful job of doing so, my love, but you must stay here.” His hands lifted from the tinted water, reaching out to cup your cheeks with his palms. He looked you in the eyes, holding a stern gaze with you.

“The people here can survive without us for a few days. They’re not completely helpless. They already do most of the cooking and running of the market and the children will be fine under their watch.” You tossed the cloth into the water, standing in the process. Now was not the time for arguing; it was the time for action. Your home had just been invaded and arguing over who should go and when was irrelevant in your eyes. You were both more than capable of dispatching goblins. You pulled a towel down from a nearby shelf after hearing Halsin hastily step out of the water, patting him dry as you checked his lower body for injuries as well.

“Yes, they can. They are prospering beyond what either of us could have imagined and in such a short time. And we are prospering ourselves,” he softly placed a hand on the peak of your belly, “and we cannot risk losing this blessing.”

“I can take care of myself,” you scoffed at the remark, “it’s not the first time I’ve faced a handful of cultists, my dear.”

“You would be a target.” He said firmly, not relenting in his stance on the matter, “If the remaining followers of the Absolute are just as vicious as I remember then they would target you in an instant. Just by looking at you, it’s no secret that you’re carrying a child. I don’t even want to think of what they could do to you or the child if they managed to get a hold of you.”

You could hear the fear in his voice, despite the firmness in which he spoke. Unfortunately, he was right. Being only a handful of weeks away from going into labor, your belly extended far and would only get bigger from here. Targeting you would be the easiest way to distract a raging cave bear or sword wielding druid. And, realistically, you were in no condition to travel, let alone fight. You had a hard enough time earlier in the afternoon just to get up from the ground. Traversing the land, sleeping on the ground, and battle would not only be uncomfortable, it would be impossible. Not to mention the risks it could pose to your child. It could result in an early birth or a loss of the pregnancy altogether. Plus, the idea of toting around a newborn while trying to hack away goblins would be less than idea.

“I know,” you sighed, resigned to the truth, “I know. It’s agreed then, I’ll stay.”

“Thank you, my heart,” his hands landed on your shoulders now, “if the scouts’ information is correct, it should only be a few days walk to their encampment. Give it a ten-day and we should all be back home.”

“What about you? Are you not staying with me?” It was your turn for confusion to cross your face. You knew Halsin would want to leave with them to battle the upcoming fight, but you needed him at home with you; albeit for more selfish reasons.

“Someone has to lead them,” he said, “they are capable, but they need a leader for battle if it comes to that. And given that most of our neighbors are children, I need to be the one to lead them.” You shook your head, understanding his logic, but disagreeing fully.

“And what happens if you get hurt? Captured? Killed? What then?” The pitch of your voice increased, emotion beginning to get the better of you.

“Were you not just willing to walk into a battle with me while with child? Why has that changed all of a sudden?” He huffed at your reaction, not understanding why you both couldn’t see eye to eye on the situation.

“Because if I’m with you out there then I can see you. I can see with my own eyes that you are safe and alive. If I stay here and you go out there, I’ll be left in the dark. I won’t know if you’re alive or if your corpse is rotting on the side of the road somewhere. Maybe captured and left in a cage to starve or something even worse. I need the peace of mind of knowing with absolute certainty that you’re still breathing, my love.” You’d already saved Halsin from a cage once before, so you knew it was possible for it to happen all over again or worse. No. You needed him home so you could make sure he was safe. Safe to remain with you and safe so he could meet his child.

“If I fall in battle then that is nature’s will. And I’ll have died making sure that you, this community, and this little one are safe. It would be a sacrifice made with love; that I can assure you.” He said softly, trying to ease you into the reality of what was needed.

His words squeezed your heart, making you push from his embrace in recoil. Your lips quivered as your eyes became wet, your breath hitching in your throat. Without another word, he pulled you into him, your arms pinned between his chest and yours. Your cheek was pressed firmly to his bare chest, still slightly damp from the bath, and you felt your throat burn with the anticipation of a sob. You couldn’t think of that; of the possibility of Halsin leaving and never returning because he was killed by an off shoot of a cult you’d already defeated once. He held you tightly to his chest as best he could, given the size of your belly, and kept you there until your breathing had slowed and you could speak without your voice cracking.

“I can’t do this alone,” you said after you’d calmed a bit, “I need you here.” You voice wavered as you spoke. Your memory flittered back to the months you travelled together on the road, camping where you could and bringing the best suited to battle. It was often that when you asked one of your other members to stay behind for a spell, they would always question your judgement. They trusted you with their lives, but there was always the hesitancy of staying behind. Like you in this moment, they felt as if they would be the best choice to bring along. After all, what harm could befall your or everyone else if they came too? As much as you found the back talking to be a nuisance, you finally understood why they would do it. It wasn’t to be in control or undermine your judgements, but it was done simply out of a desire to protect.

And now, you wanted to be the one to protect Halsin from whatever dangers he may face. You had both worked too hard to reach the bliss you’d settled upon to let it be unraveled by a handful of goblins and vagabonds. However, you knew in your heart that you couldn’t go. You were a liability and a target. You needed to stay, much to your dismay. But, despite your sudden realization, you still couldn’t wrap your head around why Halsin specifically needed to go. He needed to stay; for both his sake and yours. The idea of giving birth scared you more than facing the Absolute, but more so the thought of your child losing their father before they could even meet weighed more heavily on your mind. Wherever you need me. That was always what he told you when you asked him to stay in camp. He never questioned or argued or requests then, so why is he now? Why did he have to be so stubborn at times?

“And you won’t be, my love,” he softly kissed your temple again, “but those that are going need guidance and I should be the one to answer that call. I’m not venturing forth because I want to roam or feel the rush of battle. Protecting this place we’ve built, and all those in it, are my duty now. You, my heart, and our little one are my duty. To keep you both safe. As I said, it shouldn’t be more than a ten-day. I’ll be back long before this chid of ours comes; you have my word.”

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

Sleep would not come to you in the night. The thought of Halsin leaving you for a ten-day at minimum, potentially more, kept you wide awake with a knot in your stomach. You lay on your side, your back pressed firmly to Halsin’s chest as he slept lightly beside you. His breaths were absent of his typical snores, signaling that he was having trouble sleeping himself or a lesser quality of sleep at the very least. His arm was wrapped securely around you, cradling your heavily extended belly as his gentle breaths tickled the hair on the nape of your neck.

Moonlight trickled in through the window, painting the room in an ethereal glow that would have been idillic if it wasn’t for the foul thoughts swimming in your brain. You knew Halsin was more than capable of surviving against a small band of crazed cult worshippers, but you still had your doubts. Saving your beloved bear from a cage in a goblin camp was the first time you’d met the man, so that particular memory kept eating away at your mind as you tried to sleep. If he did end up captured, or worse, would mean that he would be stuck in whatever gods awful place the remnant cultists were holed up in until someone, more than likely you, could find him.

However, that alone would have to wait until after you birthed your little one because ultimately, Halsin was right. You couldn’t afford to go out adventuring in your current state. You had a hard enough time standing from a seated position due to the size of your ever growing abdomen, so to actively battle someone and not injure yourself or your child would be practically impossible. So, you’d have to wait until after you gave birth, but would also have to decide on how long to wait until after they were born. You couldn’t bring a newborn on the road with you and you also couldn’t bring yourself to leave them home. Suddenly, as if he could sense your unease and inability to rest, you felt Halsin stir beside you.

“Rest, my heart.” He all but growled in your ear, his grip around your tightening around you slightly as he shifted himself again, “You’re going to worry the little one into the world far too early if you don’t ease your mind.” His voice was groggy from sleep, but still firm enough to get his point across.

With a huff, both from annoyance exhaustion and discomfort from the amount of effort it took to move because of your pregnancy, you rolled to your opposite side. You couldn’t be as close to him as you would have liked, given the size of your bump, but you managed as best you could. With your nose nestled into the warmth of the crook of his neck and your arms squeezed between you, you finally found a comfortable position that may allow for the slightest amount of sleep. Halsin’s strong arm surrounded your body once again, his arm lightly tracing patterns along your back in an attempt to soothe your nerves. Eventually, and much to your gratitude, you managed to settle into a slumber. It wasn’t the most peaceful night you’d had in a long while, but you couldn’t argue that some rest was better than none. Your sleep was dreamless; just a dark voice of silence.

Come morning, the familiar embrace of Halsin’s lips to your forehead and calloused hand cupping your chin caused you to stir, your mind slightly foggy from the haze of sleep you’d finally managed to settle into. Your lover was hovered over you, planting his usual loving kisses to your skin to gently rouse you from your slumber. You hummed softly at the touch of his lips, reaching up to place your hand over his only to come into contact with his old bracers. The wood was rough under your touch; familiar yet a stranger in these past months of bliss. When your mind finally cleared of your slumber, you realized he was already dressed for the day, ready to take to the road in pursuit of the Absolute assailants.

“First light was agreed upon, my love. Otherwise I would stay here with you for every precious moment.” He said as you sat up, the resurgence of dread filling you. With a deep sigh, you quickly pulled on a loose fitting outfit with the intention of seeing Halsin off for his journey. You still disagreed with him leaving, but you also knew there would be no changing his mind or stopping him. He was leaving out of duty to protect both his home and his growing family, and he was more than willing to die for both.

“A kiss for the road?” You asked softly after you’d pulled on your quick outfit, meeting him to the main threshold of your home.

“Of course. As if you even had to ask,” Halsin said as his hands rested across your shoulders, "It is as I said before you faced the Netherbrain, this shall not be our last, my heart.”

His lips pressed firmly to yours, but there was still the softness you adored. He was always so, so gentle and loving with you. You gripped the edges of his old armor firmly, desperately trying to keep him as close to you as possible as you shared your parting kiss. He groaned against your lips, not wanting to part from you and only desired to hold you to him, but you both knew you needed to part ways so he could meet the scouting party across town. After all, the sooner he left, the sooner he would return to you and your child.

“A ten-day, I promise.” He said as you finally parted ways, meeting your gaze with soft eyes that almost threatened to form a tear.

“And not a day more.” You said it almost as a command, but you also muttered it as a prayer.

With a brush of his nose to yours, Halsin pulled from you, his eyes lingering on your features for a moment longer before his gaze drifted to your abdomen. He knelt to one knee in front of you, placing both hands on either side of your belly before pressing a lingering kiss to the area above your navel. Once his lips parted, he pressed his forehead to the same spot and you could hear him muttering a prayer to Silvanus for safety and guidance. You placed your hands along his, bowing your head to join in on his prayer. Before long, he finally stood

“Not a single day more, my loves.” He repeated when he finally lifted his hands from your body, turning to leave as he did. You shared one final look to each other before he eventually left, calling out his love for you one more time. You leaned against the doorway to your home, your eyes fixed on Halsin as he made he way across the realm.

When Halsin’s bulking frame finally faded from your line of sight, you couldn’t help but sigh as you strolled your way back inside your shared home. The exhaustion from the terrible nights sleep was still weighing heavily on your tired eyes and with Halsin’s fate in the hands of Silvanus, you decided to try and rest more. There was much to do around the area, but for now the people of Thaniel’s Realm could carry on with your absence for the morning. You plopped down on Halsin’s side of the bed, a grunt escaping your lips in the process. Just as you prepared yourself to crawl back under the covers, you felt it.

You could feel the tiny, glorious little kicks from inside your belly. You smiled at the feeling, running a hand along the patch of skin where the kicks were most prominent. It was always a strange sensation, but a most welcome one. The small amounts of movement you could feel coming from your little one always reminded you how worth the hardships of child bearing were. Every morning you woke up ill, every piece of food that made you nauseous, and each ache and pain your body endured were always worth it just to feel the small signs of life coming from within. You sometimes felt guilty when you felt the movement, a feeling a selfishness always coming to a head when you failed to make it to Halsin in time for him to have a feel for himself. Throughout the entirety of your pregnancy, he had yet to feel a kick from your beloved little child.

When the movement from your belly lasted longer than usual, you decided to make a final attempt at allowing Halsin to sense the movements for himself. Without a moment to spare, you quickly made your way to your feet and out the door to your home, your hand placed firmly along the side of your belly to keep track of the movements. With the grace of a deer crossing a meadow, you flitted your way through town, which was unusually busy and full of residents saying goodbye to those traveling with Halsin. With a string of apologies and pardons, you weaved your way through the crowd, being careful to avoid any collisions. You weren’t sure if Halsin was still even in the town, considering he’d gotten a head start to the journey to the entrance, but you were determined to try your hardest to let him experience the feel of his child.

When you made it to the town square you paused, both to scan the crowd for the druid and to rest. In general, movement had become harder for you the more your abdomen grew, causing you to tired easily and not do a much as you were accustomed to doing. You inhaled through your nose and exhaled slowly through pursed lips as you continued to look for Halsin. You took a few steps forward and were delighted to see that your quick footsteps would soon be rewarded.

“Halsin!” You called when your eyes finally spotted him, quickly ushering him over to you with a wave of your hand, the other placed along the side of your extended belly. Halsin’s head quickly snapped in your direction, seemingly hearing the urgency in your voice as his gaze settled upon you. He had been conversing with Thaniel before you interrupted, but he wasted no time in giving a quick, light pat to the boys shoulders to excuse himself before he made his way to you. His steps were quick, bordering on a jog as he approached as quickly as possible.

“I’m here, my heart.” He said as he came to you, “Is something wrong? What can I do?” You now realize that your excitement had come across as potential cause for concern and that concern had quickly consumed his mind. His face was stoic, but with a quick glance to his eyes you could see the worry building. His hands had instinctively made their to your arms, holding you close as he searched your face for answers. There was a twinge of guilt that made its way through your mind with the realization you had instilled fear in your beloved druid, but knew that concern would quickly melt away once he realized why you’d come to him to urgently.

“Nothing,” you said as gently as you could, your excitement almost taking your breath away, “Nothing’s wrong; far from it. Just…just wait. It’ll come back.” Without giving a more detailed explanation, you took his large hands from their place along your arms and moved them to your abdomen. You both stood there in silence, staring down towards your stomach as you waited for another sign of movement.

“There!” You whispered as quietly as possible, but your excitement had still gotten the better of you, “There, my love. Do you feel it?” You placed your hands atop his, pressing them lightly to your belly with the hopes he could have his first feel the feather light kicks coming from within.

The worry that was written across Halsin’s face quickly disappeared and was replaced with a look of what you could only call bliss. The fear in his eyes softened and his eyelids seemed to droop. His lips pulled into a smile and you could swear you caught the faintest glimpse of a tear threatening to fall to his cheeks.

“Yes, my heart, I do.” Halsin whispered as he pressed lightly against you, desperately wanting to feel another gentle bit of movement. As quietly as he could, the druid gave a gentle chuckle as if he was in disbelief in what he was feeling.

“I was afraid it would stop if I kept walking,” you explained as he shifted his hands around your front side to feel more, “I didn’t want you to miss this.”

With his hands still cradling the swell of your belly, Halsin leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours, sighing happily as he felt another kick against his palm. Several kicks later, you felt him lean more heavily against you, almost nuzzling as his shoulders and muscles relaxed with your touch. He basked in the feeling of his little one moving against your combined touch. You hummed in contentment as you felt him rock you both back and forth slowly, as if you were entangled in a slow dance together. In that moment, despite being surrounded by dozens of people, there were only the two of you, standing together as one to bask in the warmth and joy that was the child wriggling in your belly. Nothing else mattered except the safety of the embrace you shared and the soft, tiny kicks you both could feel.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin, “for everything. For allowing me this moment.”

“Just be sure to be back before this child is born, love,” you said softly, “I want you to enjoy many more.” Your eyes opened only to be met with his soft gaze. You’re not sure how long he’d been looking at you, but the warmth behind his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Oak Father preserve you, my heart.” With a final lingering kiss to your forehead, Halsin reluctantly pulled his hands from your belly as he took a step back.

“You as well, my love.” You said quietly. You knew that if you spoke any louder your voice would crack and tears would spill from your eyes. You understood and respected his obligation to protecting the community he had worked so hard to build, but part of you wanted to be selfish and keep him home. You had seen him in battle many times against the Absolute so you knew his strengths, but you also couldn’t shake the memory of your first meeting in the goblin camp. There was always the very real possibility that he could find himself captured once again or even killed and that thought terrified you to your core. You didn’t want to see anything happen to him for a variety of reasons, but the biggest one being the child the two of you were getting ready to bring into the world.

After everything he had gone through and the misery he’d endured for centuries, he deserved this. He deserved to be there to welcome his child in his arms and drink in those first precious moments. You wanted to see the joy in his face in watching that child prosper in the land he held dear to his heart; to see them flourish and grow to respect the balance between nature and civilization. And, more selfishly, you wanted him there when you gave birth. You were terrified to be alone for that and only wanted his soothing presence there to help you though it all.

As you watched the last of the scouting group leave the gates of the community, you turned to head back towards the market. It would soon be time for dinner and with Halsin now gone, the duty of the community now rested on your shoulders. You offered a quick prayer to Silvanus for the safety of Halsin and the scouting party, but also that your merry band of children would enjoy your nightly bedtime stories in Halsin’s absence.

Tag List: @incrediblethirst, @reignydeys, @thoughts-of-bear, @im-eating-rn, @beardedladyqueen , @simplysaying @emorylovescats, @distelsterncat, @cryingoverpixelsetc

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #halsin x reader #reader x halsin #gender neutral reader #daddy halsin #halsin romance #halsin brainrot #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #halsin fluff #halsin fanfic

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anabdaniels · 3 months ago

Text

Cowboytober Day 2: Somnophilia

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female reader

Word counting: 1.2k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming.

Main Masterlist | Cowboytober Masterlist

Jack hated the remaining effects of his years on Statesman.

All those times he woke up on a jump with the feeling of falling asleep in the middle of a mission or when he started to dream about all those insane fights. That was one of those nights he knew his sleep was ruined. Jack had already walked downstairs to get a shot of whiskey, sat on the balcony for a while, tried to close his eyes and hoped to fall asleep, he had even given a try to those videos of people packaging stuff that you used to say that helped you fall asleep.

When the clock marked 2 am, Jack was conformed about being awake for the rest of the night, so he just nestled himself next to you on the bed, playing with a lock of your hair. Feeling his presence even in your sleep, you tucked your head against Jack’s chest, grumbling some noises during the process. He smiled at how adorable you looked and how even sleeping you could make him happier since just your little asleep noises were enough to make him move on from the irritation of being unable to sleep.

Jack nuzzled his face into your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body lotion as one of his hands brushed your arm. He did his best to try to shut his thoughts up, but apparently what you told him you learned in therapy about thoughts not being controllable was true, because his little male brain could only rewind that conversation you had with him. It started with you affirming that it was fine if he woke you up every here and there for a convenient hook-up in the middle of the night, then on one of those occasions, you admitted that you would enjoy it if he started the whole thing without waking you.

Carefully, Jack pushed the comforter away from your torso, taking a good look at your breasts almost escaping your nightgown cleavage before moving the shoulder strap down your arm and cupping your breast, softly rubbing his rough palm against your nipple, taking a quiet noise out of you. Curious about how that would evolve, he tucked himself better next to you, kissing your chest and softly sucking on your nipple while his hands kept moving all over your body, groping and massaging you. Being a heavy sleeper, in the back of your mind you were partially aware of a soft tickle on your skin, but wasn’t enough to disturb your sleep.

Jack was tempted to wake you, missing your responsiveness, but he was either adoring the perspective of you having no clue about what was going on and how you’d love the realization that he has attended your desire as soon as you woke up, so he kept going on, caressing your lower stomach then moving down, rubbing your warm folds with his fingertips, keeping his lips glued on your nipples, taking a few more muffled noises from you while slowly stretching you with two fingers.

As he felt your body relaxing under his touch, Jack finally felt like taking another step, gently tuning you to lay on your stomach and pushing the comforter aside while taking a good look at your body being illuminated only by the moonlight that entered through the windows. Carefully, Jack pushed your legs apart and settled between them, letting his hands squeeze and massage your butt as he took a long full look at your dripping core, a view he was completely down for, but used to not take as long as he’d like since you tented to start to feel self-conscious about it.

With no rush, Jack slid inside you, groaning quietly with the welcoming warm feeling and smirking as a quiet noise escaped from you either. He proceeded slowly, not wanting to wake you up quickly or abruptly, so he took his time, one hand tangled in your hair, brushing your scalp as the other held one of your buttcheeks, keeping you spread open so he could appreciate the scene of every inch of him sinking on you.

At a very slow pace, your mind was starting to be awake, making you aware that something was happening, yet too unbothered to wake up. As your asleep body moved to turn on the bed and didn’t succeed, you started to get more aware of the surroundings, feeling something that you couldn’t promptly identify. You rub your face and blink a couple of times, starting to realize what was the matter, for a moment wondering if you were dreaming or not.

“Jack?” you called quietly in a husky tone, sighing as you felt Jack’s warm torso resting on top of your back.

“Hi there, honey.” He kissed your shoulder still caressing your scalp “You’re okay, darlin’?”

“Mhmm” you mumbled and nodded, resting better on the bed and turning your head to look better at him “Thought you’d never take me serious ‘bout this.” You kept speaking with a slurred voice, smiling softly.

“Told ya I just needed a lil’ time to process the concept.” He answered with a smirk, leaning to kiss your temple, causing you to melt a bit more, enjoying all that a lot.

Feeling himself also very carried away with that cozy atmosphere, Jack twisted your hips softly and laid down, spooning you while keeping his calm pace, kissing from your earlobe to your shoulder, groping every corner of your body he could reach while still rubbing your scalp. You didn’t bother about anything else, making yourself at ease in his arms without trying to fight your laziness, loving how comfortable that felt, and focusing on the growing good feeling in your womb that only got stronger when Jack’s hand landed between your legs. You didn’t fight for it to last longer, that wasn’t one of those occasions, so you just let it go, contorting and whimpering, your body not knowing if it would get tense or relax even more.

Finally having you actively responding provided the last trigger Jack’s brain needed to get rid of all and any annoying thoughts, letting him finally relax as he enjoyed the soft spasms of your body around him as you reached your relief, that being all Jack needed to let himself go, emptying every drop of his orgasm straight on your cervix, hiding his face against your nape and planting a soft kiss on your skin.

You were just about to fall asleep again when you felt Jack about to move, despite being almost knocked out, you moved one of your arms quickly to grab Jack’s arm.

“Where you think you’re going?” you questioned with your eyes closed and a lazy voice, frowning when he laughed quietly.

“Considering your sympathetic approach, nowhere.” Jack kissed your cheek and snuggled himself with you, pulling the comforter over the two of you and wrapping his arms around your body. You sighed happily and relaxed, already starting to drift to sleep and ending up snoring in no time. Jack also was about to sleep, not even remembering his annoying insomnia from earlier, only thinking about how comfy it felt to fall asleep still being buried inside you and in what interesting way he could wake you up by the morning.

Tagging: @missladym1981 @alex-does-art-things @beefrobeefcal

#Kinktober #Kinktober 2024 #Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey fic #Agent Whiskey x reader #Agent Whiskey x you #Jack Daniels #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Kingsman: the golden circle #Pedro Pascal #pedrostories #Pedro Pascal characters

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ranaissingle · 10 months ago

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Whispers and Melodies

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: She has heard a deep melodic voice speaking to her from a far away place for decades. Anything from snippets of a longer conversation to roars that shook the very earth she walked on.

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

A cup of tea sat cooling on the window sill of a small cottage on the outskirts of the Day Court. The quaint home overlooked a large river delta with roiling waters whose waves flowed into an ocean only a stone's throw away. Inside the cottage sat a girl gazing into the night sky while she forgot all of the day's troubles.

The healer had spent the entire day tending to patients from the village near her cottage. It was a quaint town whose community was close-knit and small. It had taken the townspeople a while to grow accustomed to her but as the years had come and gone, they had opened up to each other. Her skills as a healer also aided in this endeavor. But despite how much she enjoyed her dealings with the townspeople, her favorite part of her job was the research that it allowed. At the end of a hard day of treating her patients, she could lock herself up in her office and lose herself in the formulas and ratios she tested in her compounds.

Y/N padded over to her small kitchen, mug in hand, and placed it into her sink before walking toward her research room and locking the door behind her.

She always thought of her research room as a safe haven. The vials full of various substances that she had been testing littered her desk along with her carefully taken notes about the contents and phase changes of each substance on her log book. Her most recent project had been to synthesize some type of blood clotting or replenishing potion that would allow her to administer it to a patient who was more likely to die of blood loss before she even had the chance to solve any of their injuries. A potion like this would allow her ample time to stitch up any wound or brew some other cure for poisons and the like.

Her current issue consisted of not being able to stabilize the potion for long-term storage. The fennel root and crushed carrowfish shell she’d added seemed to be slowly decomposing each other which made the potion essentially useless after more than 4 days of storage. The trials she was running right now attempted to add some honey which slowed the reaction process as well as introduced some antimicrobial properties to the potion.

Y/N quickly jotted down the physical changes in appearance and consistency of each of the test tubes with varying amounts of honey. Each testing glass contained more honey than the last. Whichever combination yielded the best preservation and overall effectiveness is the ratio that she would begin perfecting.

Y/N stayed in her laboratory until she felt her eyes begin to strain and her feet start to ache. She carefully placed all of her measuring tools and weights back onto her working table before she exited the room and made her way to the front door of her cottage. She undid all 3 locks and tugged the large oak door open with both her hands.

In the distance, she saw a figure. A male it seemed; lying on the ground as the ocean lapped at his skin and crusted it in dried salt. The setting sun gleamed against him and warmed his pale skin in a sheen of gold that she thought suited him much more than the sickly pallor he seemed to have. Most people tended to steer clear of her section of the beach out of some deeply engrained paranoia of outsiders. But this male seemed to have missed that particular message.

Rhysand had known he had been fooled the moment he stepped into the ballroom on that fateful day. Amaranth had promised a ball in celebration of the many alliances she had made as well as an apology to those she had wronged. Rhysand had gone to the ball purely for formalities' sake. He had always loathed these types of false pretenses that the upper echelon of fae had always insisted on perpetuating. Nonetheless, he had dragged himself out of his court that afternoon and appeared at this ball. His own cowardice to refuse Amarantha’s invitation had resulted in 50 years of extortion, rape, and violence that despite his centuries of experience, he could not seem to shake the black cloud that it had cast over him.

Feyre being his mate was not something he had seen coming nor was it something he wanted. Tamlin would treat her well, she cared for all of his people and he would care for Feyre Rhys was sure. Despite his freedom, Rhysand could not bring himself to go to his home in Velaris. His family was likely waiting for him to return but they would all know exactly what had happened to him as soon as he stepped in the door. He did not wish to deal with their horrified faces and pitying looks once they found out. So instead, he wandered.

He wandered around lands both Night Court and Day. He walked and flew so far that he ended up somewhere on a coastline. Rhys has no idea where he had landed but he didn't seem to care that he was likely lost. So as the sun set, he continued a slow walk along the cliffside coast and eventually down onto the sandy beaches. The sun sunk further into the horizon leaving only the gleaming light of a cottage in the far-off distance. As Rhys drew closer, he noticed a crop garden with some vegetables and herbs growing on the plot off to the side of the house and a water well located up a hill. Rhysand was tired. He was tired of walking, of flying, of breathing even. He just wanted to rest. He wanted to sleep on a soft bed and not have to think about anything at all, not be worried that one wrong move would result in the death of everyone he had ever loved. So he made his way closer to the cottage before sitting on the wet sand closest to the water and stretching out his long legs. The water lapped at his feet and calves, almost as if it was slowly pulling away all the tension that wound itself in his legs. He stared out at the ocean for what seemed like an eternity. Rhysand got lost in the repetitive movements of the water and the slowly setting sun in the distance casting beautiful colors on the waters and sand.

When he eventually woke up from what felt like an eternity of slumber, he was not nestled in the sand as he had expected. Instead, he was cushioned underneath with quilts and pillows, and on top of him lay thick blankets to combat the morning chill that often accompanied this time of the year. The room itself looked lived in, to say the least. Canvas’ and embroidery projects were pinned to the wall in various positions. Everything from people to landscaping were inscribed into the wall. Pages that appeared to be ripped out of books with certain lines underlined also adorned the cedarwood walls. The entire room smelled of something woody and calm that Rhysand couldn't quite a place. He stretched up from his lying position and slowly removed the layers of quilts and blankets from him. His legs felt sore and ached from the hours of walking he had done the day before. He tried to stretch his wing muscles but they also ached from their overuse. He hadn't flown in decades, yet he had taken to the sky’s as soon as he could as if he had never left the great blue expanse. He now felt his lack of practice as he tried to rotate his shoulders and ease the aches that had rooted themselves in his back.

A shuffle from outside the door had Rhysand snapping his neck towards the door. He slowly lifted himself off the bed, careful to make sure none of the wooden beams snapped. He paced towards the door and stuck his ear against the wood grain to listen for any further movements. He was listening to the slicing of metal that would indicate a weapon the characteristic heavy footfalls that usually indicated a warrior of some capacity. Instead, he heard sharp cutting noises blunted by a wooden board, the shuffle of lithe feet, and the soft humming of a female.

Hello everyone! It has been too long! So many things have happened in the last months and I can't wait to get back into the groove of posting multiple-part stories.

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skellymom · 1 month ago

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"AMBER EYES" CHAPTER 2

Bad Batch TECH Fan Ficlet x NON-GENDERED READER

A story of HOPE for Tech Fan's: Resident of Pabu unlocks a secret even THEY weren't aware they had access to!

Word Count: 800

Rated: SAFE for EVERYONE! ENJOY!!!

The stars whiz by the windscreen as I lay on the bunk in the dimly lit ship. Echo is at the helm. He brought transport since the Marauder was destroyed.

I’m exhausted.

It’s been months since my FIRST contact with Tech. Since then, I’ve only gotten snippets of sensory information: by sight, sound, feel. I can still feel him breathing...it’s been the only constant since that day on Pabu. Like we’re sharing the same breath.

The goggles are no longer needed for me to reach out to Tech. Omega still brought them along “just in case”. There are times I can concentrate while awake to experience what he is experiencing. But most times it happens during the night, when sleep pulls my guard down.

And, because of that I don’t sleep for very long.

Crosshair says I talk in my sleep...and it sounds JUST LIKE his brother. He’s tried to elicit a conversation, but without me being conscious it goes nowhere.

“Found some muscle relaxers. That should help you sleep.” Hunter kneels with a canteen, dropping two tablets into my hand.

“Thanks” Swallowing the meds.

“Here” He also hands me a ration bar “They’ll tear up your stomach if you don’t eat.”

“You’re such a DAD” I kid.

“You’re a part of this family, too” Hunter smiles and it reaches his eyes. I can also see a bit of concern in them. “Of course we’ll take care of you.”

He pats my shoulder, stepping away as Wrecker approaches.

“Ya ready?” Cracks the knuckles of his large hands.

I nod as he sits behind me on the bunk and CAREFULLY massages my head, temple, ears. The man has hands that could EASILY crush my skull...

...but his fingers are so gentle. He eases away the tension as I chew on the ration bar.

Soon the meds, food, and Wrecker’s massage take effect. I’m feeling extremely comfortable. There’s a conversation going on between Hunter, Echo, and Crosshair...I’m catching small snippets...

“Concerned about ______. Too much for one person to bear.” Hunter empathizes with my plight. He UNDERSTANDS all too well.

Echo’s voice chimes in “Yeah, all the leads just wind up being dead ends. Not sure how much longer we...THEY can keep going...”

Crosshair grits his teeth and worriedly runs his hand over his stubbly head. His silver hair growing back. He feels IMMENSE guilt. Both he and Wrecker have already openly argued about the mission that took Tech’s life...

They almost came to blows. It made Omega cry.

Hunter and Echo broke it up, putting them both in temporary “Time Out.”

They eventually made up...well Wrecker did. Crosshair just stared at the floor like a whipped dog.

Crosshair says something...but it’s lost as I fall asleep with Wrecker’s hands in my hair...

The warmth and comfort immediately torn away from me...

I...WE are laying in the cold wet mud...of SOME world...rain coming down in sheets.

There’s a body next to...us...

A dead rebel soldier. His eyes are wide open, glazed over...mud and rain splattered upon his body where he fell...

We...Tech...is CRAWLING through the mud. Attempting to escape? I can FEEL his respiratory effort as he DRAGS himself through the wet mess. He manages to pull himself with his arms several feet before falling back into the mud...utterly exhausted...

The hard patter of rain upon his body. He’s shivering. His body temperature is dropping...he’s becoming TIRED, struggling to keep both eyes open...only a matter of time before hypothermia sets in...

Please...don’t LEAVE me...

He’s addressing...ME! I can FEEL it!!!

I’m SHOCKED. This is the FIRST time he’s spoken to me...

Yes...I KNOW you’re there. He answers breathlessly. Took me some time to ascertain...you are using Remote Viewing...

I push to find my voice...

WE ARE COMING FOR YOU! I blurt out Hunter, Crosshair, Echo, Wrecker, and Omega are with me! We...

Tell them to abort their mission! Tech cuts me off.

NO! Where ARE YOU???

The Empire WILL find you all. It is NOT safe... He sighs HEAVILY I wish to see them all again...but NOW is not the time...

...and...I...am not the man I once was...

A ship lands several meters away. Its crew jumps down into the mire, slogging towards...Tech...US. He is grabbed up by several hands and hauled to the ship...into it...the crew starts basic first aid...

Thank you for keeping me awake...and ALIVE...if not for YOU, I would have expired. PLEASE, keep my brothers and sister safe...

And with that, Tech CUTS contact with me...

...I SLINGSHOT VIOLENTLY back to Echo’s ship!

I BOLT upright in the bunk. Wrecker has a mild heart attack with the suddenness of my action.

I’m SCREAMING something over and over...

Tech thought he could prevent me from finding him...

But I managed to catch a glimpse with HIS OWN EYES...the ship’s hull...

“DELIVERANCE! TRANSPONDER CODE 00155268!!!”

EVERYONE is running towards me...

“DELIVERANCE! TRANSPONDER CODE 00155268!!!”

I can only stare DIRECTLY into Echo’s eyes...

“DELIVERANCE! TRANSPONDER CODE 00155268!!!”

They widen. He SMILES. Immediately Echo sets to work with his ship’s computer...

CHAPTER 3 TO BE POSTED SHORTLY!

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 1 year ago

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This Is Kinda Nice Too (4)

So it's been a while since I posted for this prompt, but I was looking through some unfinished fics and stumbled across this. Hoping to now move this fic into my 'finished' folder, so here we are. Previous parts are linked below for context but can be read as a stand alone.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~*~

“I gotta ask a favour,” says Melissa as she sits in her usual seat at she and Barb’s table. “Dessert. I’m just not gonna have time.”

Barb’s eyebrows raise as the red head starts to reel off all of the prep she needs to do for your dinner date. “Girl, you have got to calm down. The girl isn’t expecting a five star banquet. She’s going to be giddy over the fact she’s spending time with you, not nitpicking at your food.”

Melissa rolls her eyes. “That was all fun in the forest but this is real. I just wanna do this right.”

“You’re not going to be able to relax and enjoy yourself if all you’re worrying about is the food,” points out the kindergarten teacher.

“I’m not worrying about the food!” exclaims the red head. “Just the lack of time to make the food…and the dessert.”

With a sigh, Barb finally concedes. “Fine, I’ll make dessert, but you owe me!”

Friday after school finds Melissa in the doorway to your classroom. “Hey. Just wanted to check you’re still good for tomorrow?”

“Seven o’clock sharp,” you grin. “I can’t wait. Is there anything I can bring?”

You watch as she pushes off the doorframe, sauntering up to you and effectively stealing your breath in the process.

“How about you and that cute smile?” she smirks, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, and acting far braver than she feels.

“I can do that,” you say quietly, your grin only widening.

Standing outside Melissa’s door, you take a deep breath, loosening your death grip on the flowers you brought. You know she had said you didn’t need to bring anything, but you couldn’t just turn up empty handed. And if you’d also picked up a little box of the chocolates you knew Melissa liked, well, you were only being polite.

Knocking on the now familiar door, you feel your heart rate increase at the sound of approaching footsteps from within. As the door is opened to reveal the red head, you can’t help but let your eyes wander over her curves. “You look amazing,” you tell her as she steps back to allow you in. “Even more than usual.”

Her cheeks pink in a blush as you hold out the flowers to her, smiling as she shyly takes them.

“I told you you didn’t have to bring anything.”

“I was hardly going to turn up empty handed to our first date,” you smile.

She ducks her head. “I’m gonna go fix these, you know where the coats go.” Leaving you to hang up your bag and coat, she retreats to the kitchen, trying to calm her nerves as she opens up the flowers and sets them in a vase. She looks up as you enter the kitchen. “You scrub up pretty well yourself.”

“Had a good reason to put in some effort,” you reply, putting the chocolates you had brought down by the vase of flowers.

She frowns.

“Just in case my sweet smile wasn’t quite cutting it,” you shrug.

“These are my favourites,” she says quietly as she looks more closely at the box. Not some dollar store number or some last-minute purchase from the corner store.

“Well I wasn’t going to bring you ones you don’t like.”

She closes the space between you, her fingers skimming down your arms before pulling you into a hug. “Thank you.” She pulls back, blinking to try and hide the tears that have gathered in your eyes at how thoughtful you’ve been. “Now, you go sit and I will get things plated up.”

Dinner is better than you could have hoped. The table is set with candles, casting the room in a romantic light and making Melissa’s hair glow. It reminds you of that first night by the fire, when things started to shift between the two of you. The conversation and laughter flows between you, and you realise although you’ve had a crush on her forever, you couldn’t have done this all those months ago. The friendship that’s grown between the two of you has allowed you to be you with her.

Her eyes tear up as you tell her as much. “It’s been a two way street, kid. You’ve never made me feel like I had to be anyone else with you, like who I was wasn’t enough,” she admits feeling brave in the face of your admission. “There are…things I usually hide when I meet people. Things you learned and you didn’t pity me, think less of me.”

“Why would I think any less of you for anything I’ve learned about you?” you frown. “You’re amazing. And I mean that. You are…so strong and capable and just…amazing,” you finish. “And I should say beautiful too.”

Cheeks once again flushed from more than just the heat, she stands from the table, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as she passes your chair. “Got room for dessert?”

You close your eyes at the brief contact, a smile on your lips. You don’t make to follow her, giving her a few moments to herself. “Always,” you tell her. “You know I have a sweet tooth.”

When she returns, she places a plate down in front of you. You frown, looking down at the plate. You know Melissa. You know her cooking, and this, this doesn’t look like it. “This doesn’t feel like a Schemmenti recipe.” That wasn’t to say, however, it didn’t taste good.

“That’s because it’s a Barbara Howard special,” answers the red head. “Honestly, that woman is a whizz at baking.”

“You told Barb about this?” you ask, this somehow catching you by surprise.

“Sweetie, Barb has had to put up with me having a breakdown over the menu, my timings, my prep, the whole nine yards the whole week,” laughs Melissa.

“I didn’t realise,” you breathe, feeling guilty at the fact you’d somehow missed her semi-permanent state of panic. “Sorry! I wanted this to be fun for you too.”

She smiles sweetly at you. “It has been. I just…wanted to make it special.”

You put your spoon down. “Melissa, I meant it when I said this could be pizza and beers and it would be special to me, because it’s you. This has been great, and I feel like I’ve been treated like a queen, but you know I don’t need all this, right? I was happy sitting in the middle of the woods holding your hand.”

For what feels like the hundredth time that night, Melissa finds herself blushing. She had been happy sitting in the middle of the woods holding your hand too. “If you wanna date me, you gotta live with me being a little extra sometimes.”

You grin back at her across the table. “Oh, I’m good with that. And yes, just to be clear, I do wanna date you. Properly.”

Helping clear the plates after dessert you both move to the sofa to finish your wine. The wine glasses are quickly forgotten on the table, however, as her lips find yours. As her hands clutch you to her, you’re in heaven. Her lips find your neck and you realise you’re done for.

She pulls back as a whimper leaves your throat, her pupils blown as she takes you in. You’re flushed and panting. “I barely touched you,” she breathes in awe.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” you reply.

She smirks. “Know what I’d like to do to you.”

This has you both blushing. She takes your hands, linking your fingers together. “I want this. You. All of it, but I don’t want to rush things.”

“Baby steps?”

“Maybe not quite that slow and innocent,” she smirks, leaning in to kiss you once more. “Stay?” she asks, the word whispered against your lips as she rests her forehead against your own. “I want to share an actual bed with you.”

Upstairs, you take turns in the bathroom. You find yourself smiling at your reflection in the mirror as you brush your teeth. The borrowed oversized sleep shirt you wear is soft and worn. You’ve stayed over at Melissa’s house before, but in the guest room in your own nightwear. This is a whole new level of intimacy.

Turning the light off as you leave the bathroom, you find the red head already in bed. Slipping beneath the covers, there’s a polite distance between the two of you as you regard each other in the dim streetlight filtering through the gap in the curtains. Finally, Melissa breaks the silence with a sigh and a rolling of her eyes. She shuffles across the mattress until she can curl into your side, much as she did that night in the woods.

“Tell anyone I’m a koala and I’ll have to kill you,” she mumbles against your chest.

You can’t help but laugh at the half-hearted threat. “Worth it.”

She leans up and glares at you in the dim light.

In return, you push yourself up to press a kiss to her lips. “Fine, my lips are sealed so long as you promise to keep putting yours on them.”

“Deal,” she smiles, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips before settling back against your chest.

The next morning you’re woken by Melissa’s message tone. She grumbles incoherently as she blindly reaches for the device on her bedside table. Locating the offending item, she brings it close to her face where she can see it. “Barb,” she informs you, turning the phone so you can read the screen.

Still sleepy and warm, even this small action makes you smile. That she’s comfortable enough to let you read the message from her friend. Barb is asking how the night went. “I’d say it went pretty well.” So you got to wake up with Melissa at an actual bed, but it appeared Barb was still to be your alarm.

Melissa’s lips curl up in a smile. “Yeah, it did.” She taps the screen of her phone, holding it above the two of you and taking a picture. Bringing her phone back down, you both look at the screen, at how happy you both look, curled up together. “You okay if I send this?”

“Long as you are,” you reply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head where she rests against your shoulder. Everything is covered and you’re both in PJ’s. It’s almost tasteful.

The reply that comes back is quick. Melissa laughs at the almost expected prudish reply. She types out a reply, telling Barb to look at the picture again and take her mind out of the gutter. A few moments later, her phone chimes again.

This time, she smirks, turning the phone to allow you to see it more easily. You read the typed words, saying you both look very happy and she hopes you enjoy dessert. You frown at the tense. Barb is usually very particular in what she says. “Is she?”

“Implying what you think she is?” laughs the red head. “I think she might be.” She tosses her phone back on the bedside table, shifting until she can look up at you, her chin resting on your shoulder. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you smile.

“You know,” she drawls. “This. Waking up with you in an actual bed. This is kinda nice too.”

“Careful,” you warn, taking in her face in the early morning light, her curls spilling messily over her shoulders. “A girl could get used to it.”

A soft smile tugs at her lips. “Maybe she should?”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa x reader #spoilmesweetieforficsake #melissa schemmenti

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talenlee · 5 months ago

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3e: Psychofeedback

In game making we’re often talking about feedback loops. That is the idea that when something happens, in a process, it influences that same process the next time it happens. Feedback in audio is a problem you want to avoid. Feedback in marketing is something you want endlessly so you can always make a new excuse for why you need more feedback before committing to an optimal strategy. Feedback is everywhere in every interaction because if you weren’t getting feedback, you weren’t interacting.

TTRPGs are in many cases built on feedback. In most story-run games, ie, anything with what we call a DM or GM interchangeably unless you’re really persnickety about rules language, the game is fundamentally a feedback loop where that story-runner provides a stimulis and the players respond to and incorporate that feedback. Feedback is not a problem, feedback is the whole experience.

Art Source

That’s not what this is about.

This is about a single specific power in 3e D&D, called Psychofeedback, which was so broken I may have gotten it errata’d.

The rules system is 3rd edition Dungeons & Dragons. The book is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Psionics Handbook by Bruce Cordell and I assume a lot of other people. In this book, we have the power Psychofeedback, and since you’re not in a position to get this book, here’s the relevant rules text, verbatim:

You can use power points to boost your Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution modifiers as a free action. While the duration lasts, you can use power points on a round-by-round basis to boost any or all of your ability score modifiers (not the actual ability score) by a number equal to half the power points you expend for that round as a free action. For example, you can boost your Strength modifier by as much as 8 points (if you spend 16 power points).

That’s the important rules information. It lets you convert psionic power points to stat modifier at a 2:1 rate. Note that it’s not converting to stat points, but to stat modifier. Now, this means you don’t change things like your strength score (relevant for carrying capacity) but your strength modifier (relevant for single acts of strength like breaking objects or attacking people). This was a level 4 power, available for a Psion at level 8, or Psychic Warrior at level 10. It was also, largely, a completely unusable power, as designed, because the conversion rate didn’t really work out very well. It could be useful for a short burst of strength, but you couldn’t, for example, use it to temporarily inflate your hit points, because when your Constitution decreased, you’d lose those hit points you gained first. You could ge tougher, but you’d have to stay spending power points until you were healed. Neat effect but not amazing.

Interesting power, no real application.

Except.

In the same book we have the Mind Feeder weapon property. By level 8-10, it’s very reasonable to expect a character to have access to this weapon, whose rules state:

A mindfeeder weapon grants its wielder temporary power points equal to the total damage dealt by a successful critical hit.

How often do you get critical hits?

In this case, using core rules available items, a scimitar crits on 3 numbers (18, 19, 20). With improved critical, it crits on 6 numbers (adding 15, 16, 17). With Sharpness, it crits on 8 numbers (adding 14 and 13). That means that a mindfeeder weapon could critically hit just under half the time. What this could lead to was a character who dual-wielded small weapons like these and made five attacks a turn at level 10 (because of ubiquitous buff haste).

You can open with a Psychofeedback buff to your attack of, at that level, 26 power points, all you had. That means +13 to your strength modifier, meaning your attack would do something in the district of 1d4+your strength+magical mods+that extra 13 strength. There’s also this feat from the Player’s Handbook called power attack. Power attack let you exchange a penalty on hit for a bonus to your damage rolls. Remember how you spent those 26 power points for a +13 strength modifier? You have therefore, a +13 extra to hit. So without needing to change how likely you are to hit, you’re suddenly getting another +13 extra damage on that attack.

Now double it.

That meant that your first crit, which cost you 26 power points, is going to be like 2.5 dice-roll damage, +1 from the magical weapon, probably, +2 from a totally reasonable base strength mod, +13 from the new strength mod, +13 from power attack, doubled. That’s 63 power points. The next turn, you can turn those 63 power points into strength, for a +31 strength mod. Critting in that turn on five attacks is very reasonably likely, and that gets you 135 power points back. And that’s +67 Strength modifier. That would be equivalent to a strength of 145. While this is going on, your character is stronger than multiple gods of strength, combined.

You have ten rounds to do this, and every single high roll pushes you further ahead. And this is the thing at start; you don’t need to go much further for the wheels to come off this very fast. And this is level ten where you don’t have a lot of ways to build for ridiculous recovery, or forcing more chances to critically hit. Remember, this is a game system that’s meant to scale up past level 20 infinitely!

This is dumb. It’s also 3rd edition so you can even be mobile and do this, haste letting you make a partial charge to close on a new subject and then ginsu it with your full attack. But hey, at least those power points are temporary, so you can’t just spend all your time doing this in every encounter, right? At least you’re not ending every fight on full power points, after having a strength stat somewhere in the triple digits at some point, Right?

Art Source

Normally with these balance problems in the sprawling game system that is Dungeons & Dragons the problem is the intersection of systemic components that were not designed to necessarily know about one another. It’s usually about using parts from two different books, brought together in a way that resulted in something unintentionally powerful. This is different. This is using two things from the same book whose application to one another seems to be pretty reasonably obvious. This is almost as egregious as the problem of the Spelldancer, another 3e all-star with an internal feedback loop that worked with its own features in the most obvious way.

See, the thing is, now Psychofeedback says ‘temporary’ power points. When the book was new, it didn’t say temporary. It didn’t say that and I wrote a treatment on it for the Character Optimisation board showing how the whole thing broke with core material only, and then one of the website writers for the book showed up in the thread and said ‘oh, that shouldn’t work that way.’

Then we got an online errata for the rulebook, and then in the next edition of the book the rule was changed.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#DnD 3e #Dungeons &amp; Dragons #Games

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cariantha · 4 months ago

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Relief

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Warning: Sexual innuendo Category: Hurt/Comfort; Fluff Word count: 1.4K Prompt: From @jerzwriter, “In your HC, does Sawyer have any long-term effects from the chemical attack or its treatment?”

By mid-afternoon, the cafeteria wasn’t nearly as busy, making it easy for Ethan to spot Sawyer sitting alone at a corner table. With a fork in one hand, she moved food around her plate while rubbing her forehead with the other.

Ethan began walking in her direction but was abruptly stopped in his tracks. “Oh, Dr. Ramsey! I’m so glad I ran into you. Finally, I can introduce you to my husband,” the silver-haired woman proclaimed.

“Hello, Mr. Reed. It’s nice to meet you,” Ethan politely responded, shaking hands with the gentleman at her side.

While Mrs. Reed explained to her husband that his ornery mother had taken a shine to the doctor with “dreamy blue eyes like Paul Newman,” Ethan kept a side eye on Sawyer as she stood and emptied her tray into a nearby wastebin.

Heads turned, and people whispered as she walked past a few occupied tables on her way to the exit. Since her return to work last week, the gossip mills had been spinning again, speculating about her physical and mental well-being and his and Sawyer’s more than just professional relationship.

Not wanting to feed the rumors, Ethan caught Sawyer’s eye just before she walked past him. With a subtle lift of his chin and a question on his brow, he silently asked if she was okay. She signaled that she was with a quick nod and forced smile. But as Ethan’s eyes trailed her out of the room, and she lifted her hand to massage the back of her neck, he was unconvinced.

<><><><><><><><><><>

“Morning,” Ethan offered as he entered the hospital gym early on Tuesday morning.

“Ram-Man! I didn’t think you were coming this morning,” Bryce grunted between pull-ups. “Sawyer said she was staying at yours last night. I figured you’d be working out at home… doing some thrusters,” he teased, dropping to the floor and vulgarly thrusting his hips back and forth.

Ethan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She wasn’t feeling well last night,” he explained as he programmed his treadmill. “Said she had a headache and wanted to go home and sleep it off.”

“She gave you the headache excuse? Damn, man. What’d you do to piss her off?”

Ethan scrunched his brow together. “What? Nothing.” The thought of Sawyer making up an excuse not to spend the night together hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“That you know of…” Bryce chuckled.

He flipped him off, then started running at full speed on the treadmill, hoping to tune out the obnoxious scalpel jockey.

His gym buddy laughed in response. “I’m just giving you a hard time, man. In all seriousness, I’m sure it’s been hard for her to be back. She probably just reached her limit and needed to crash.”

Ethan nodded. Did she need space? Had he been hovering? Was he being overprotective? Or, attempting to keep their relationship out of the public eye, had he inadvertently hurt her feelings? The thoughts in his head whirred round and round like the rubber tread under his feet.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Dr. Ramsey rattled off medication adjustments to the nurse as they exited their patient’s room. He paused to let her type the orders into a tablet when, down the hall, a familiar voice caught his attention.

“Page me if you need anything, Esme. I’m going to take a quick lunch break,” Sawyer said to her intern.

He quickly reviewed and signed off on the patient’s chart and tried to catch up with her. When he reached the end of the hallway, he turned the corner and found Baz and Zaid engaged in conversation.

“Did you see which way Sawyer went?” Ethan interrupted, looking left and right at the intersection.

“No, she didn’t come this way,” the twins said simultaneously.

Ethan swirled back around, trying to figure out where the woman he was dating had disappeared. Then he noticed the door to a supply closet. Cracking the door open, the light from the hallway illuminated the small, dark space.

Sawyer sat on the floor, her head leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. The door softly scraped on the floor as Ethan pushed it further open, and she cracked one eye open. Seeing the familiar face, she quietly groaned, “Hi.” Stepping into the tight space, he closed the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, flipping on the lights. When Sawyer winced, he quickly turned them off.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She laid her head on his shoulder when he sank to the floor beside her.

“Another headache?” he guessed, taking her hand in his.

“Yeah.”

“How bad?”

“Like migraine bad.”

“And how long has this been going on? The headaches?”

She hesitated before answering, and Ethan knew he wouldn’t like the answer. “I’ve had them since the attack, but they’ve progressively worsened since being back at work.”

Ethan sighed deeply. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“Dammit, Sawyer… I wish you would stop saying that.” Remembering her pain, he quickly tempered his frustration and squeezed her hand lovingly. “I care about you. I’m all in with you. And I want to be there for you. Aside from all that, I’m still technically your physician. You should have told me-”

“They’re just minor headaches…”

There was a buzz in his pocket. As he reached for his phone, Ethan rolled his eyes and mumbled about doctors being the worst patients. Dismissing the unimportant call, he continued his lecture. “They’re not so minor if you seek refuge in a dark closet. I won’t let you suffer like this. And Sawyer, we don’t know anything about the long-term effects of the poisoning or the antidote. You need to let me run some tests and ensure it’s nothing serious.”

“Okay, and you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Come here.” Ethan guided Sawyer’s body down until her head rested in his lap. Carefully untangling the elastic from her hair, he combed his long fingers through it, then gently massaged her head.

“That feels good. Thank you,” Sawyer whispered.

He continued to rub her head through a fifteen-minute power nap before waking and convincing her to call it a day. “Go back to my place. It’s quiet, and you can soak in the tub. I’ll take over your patients.”

After dusting themselves off, Ethan opened the door for Sawyer to step out first. His chest bumped into her back when she suddenly froze at the threshold. Looking over her head, he saw a familiar face stepping out of the patient room on the other side of the hall. The nurse smirked. “Good for you, doctors.”

“It’s not what it looks like, Maureen,” Sawyer attempted to explain.

“Uh-huh,” she sang, walking away.

Sawyer turned to face Ethan. “I totally have sex hair right now, don’t I?”

He handed over her elastic hairband with a sympathetic half-smile and smoothed her teased hair down.

<><><><><><><><><><>

A few hours later, Ethan entered his quiet apartment. Following the soft yellow light that filtered through the half-open door of his bedroom, he found Sawyer curled up in bed, scrolling through her phone.

“Hey, Rookie, how are you feeling?” he asked, toeing out of his shoes and pulling off his tie.

“Hi. Much better.”

Lying down next to her, he tugged her close for a hug and kiss. “I got a couple of Maxalt samples from the pharma rep and sent a prescription to the hospital pharmacy. You should be able to pick it up in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Sawyer said, but her tone sounded defeated.

“I know you don’t like taking medication, Soe, but I think it will bring you some relief.” Ethan kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair. “I can’t bear to see you in any more pain. Not after all that you’ve already endured.”

“Speaking of relief, can I ask you a question? As my doctor?”

“Of course.”

“I read a study earlier today, and the data suggested that sexual activity can lead to partial or complete headache relief in some migraine patients.”

“I’m familiar with the study.” Ethan smiled, knowing his patient well enough to see where this line of questioning was going.

“Of course you are…” She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Well, I was wondering if you think it might be effective in my case.”

“Sex releases endorphins, which are natural painkillers,” Ethan explained. “So yes, it could very well ease your symptoms.”

Sawyer scrunched her face and rubbed her forehead. “Ooooh… ahhhh… my head is suddenly throbbing.”

Gesturing to where his pants were now feeling very tight, he smirked. “Yeah, so is mine. You rub mine, and I’ll rub yours?”

“Deal.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction

@jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst

@liaromancewriter @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75

@socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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soylent-crocodile · 7 days ago

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Animal Conversion- Black Mamba

(photograph by Ronald Scott)

The way Challenge Ratings work in Pathfinder means that creature's general damage input and output roughly align. This is game design for an even battlefield, where you charge in against monsters and start whackin', but it fares poorly in representing one aspect of the real world; venomous animals, creatures which can be killed with anything from a jab from a pointy stick to an errant slap of the human hand, but which possess chemical weapons that can debilitate or even kill a human being. One of the most notorious of these is the black mamba, an african elapid related to cobras, coral snakes, and other notorious killers.

(Incidentally, if you search Black Mamba on google here in the hellscape that is 2024, you get a bunch of AI images of what people think black mambas should be- jet black cobras with angry eyes and powerful jaws. Isn't is more interesting, though, that the real deal looks so gray and unassuming- until they open their jet black mouths?)

This is a very old statblock, designed years ago as I wanted to approach the feel of these animals- a quiet hiding creature that could kill you if you step in the wrong direction. They are designed to be used more like traps than Monsters, and uhm. May need some playtesting. But I think it's an interesting bit of game design and would love your thoughts! I also included a fictional violet mamba for if you really hate your players.

This gray-black snake is particularly unassuming as it hides among the leaflitter

Misc- CR8 TN Tiny Animal HD8 Init:+8 Senses: Perception:+9, Blindsense 30ft

Stats- Str:8(-1) Dex:18(+4) Con:13(+1) Int:2(-4) Wis:14(+2) Cha:3(-4) BAB:+6/+1 Space:5ft Reach:0ft

Defense- HP:48 (8d8+8) AC:20 (+2 Size, +4 Dex, +4 Natural Armor) Fort:+8 Ref:+10 Will:+4 CMD:17

Offense- Bite +11(1d4-1 plus Black Mamba Venom, touch) CMB:+3 Speed:20ft Special Attacks: Deft Fangs

Feats- Weapon Finesse, Weapon Focus (Bite), Ability Focus (Poison), Improved Initiative

Skills- Stealth +19, Perception +9

Ecology- Environment- Forest (Hot) Languages- None Organization- Solitary Treasure- None

Special Abilities- Black Mamba Venom- Bite- Injury, Fort DC21, Frequency 1/round for 10 rounds Effect 1d3 Con damage, Victim is Paralyzed Cure 2 successful saves in a row Deft Fangs- Black Mambas bite as a touch attack.

Black mambas are infamous for their venom, and with good reason; they’re among the deadliest of all in nature. Not only is their venom powerful and fast acting, but it quickly paralyzes its victim, leaving them vulnerable to further assault.

Violet Mambas

Violet mambas are named not for a bright color but for the subtle magical iridescence that coats their scales; a small difference, but one that is critical to notice.

Violet mambas are variants of the black mamba. They are Magical Beasts. Do not recalculate their HD or skills. Those stricken with violet mamba venom gain SR20 against healing spells and spells that remove or cure poison or ability damage for as long as they are poisoned.

Black Mamba Companions

Starting Statistics: Size: Small Speed: 20ft Attack: Bite (1d4 plus black mamba poison) Ability Scores: Str 12(+1) Dex 14(+2) Con 12(+2) Int 2(-4) Wis 15(+2) Cha 10(+0) Special Qualities: Low-Light Vision, Scent, Blindsense 30ft, Black Mamba venom (Bite- Injury, 1/round for 5 rounds, 1d2 Con damage, save DC is HD based)

7th Level Advancement: Ability: Dex +2, Con +2 Special Qualities: Black Mamba venom (Bite- Injury, 1/round for 10 rounds, 1d2 Con damage, victim is staggered, save DC is HD based)

#soylent original #monsters and races #animal conversions #black mamba

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lux-aurea-lunae · 28 days ago

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Prompt 11 - Unexpected Part 2

Link to part one

Ever since Hero first appeared, the quality of life in the poorer areas of the city had been slowly but steadily rising. The crime rate in Hero’s assigned district was on the sharp decline, far faster than most others. Once the other heroes caught on, noticing how effective improvements to living conditions were on lowering the crime rate, they began to contribute. Heroes hadn’t been around long enough for there to be a traditional way to do it, so many were open to accepting it as part of their job.

Some abandoned buildings around the city were suddenly bought and renovated. Other villains complained that they couldn’t use them as meetup spots anymore. Villain didn’t mind being inconvenienced after restored apartments were listed for the cost of the utilities, or repurposed warehouses became soup kitchens and homeless shelters, or recreation centres that hosted free classes that taught people valuable life skills and helped them find jobs. The city was thriving in a way it never had before, and Villain was oddly honoured to see it.

Now, they were standing face to face with the person who’s responsible for it. “I was hoping I would run into you,” Villain said casually. Hero looked at them, questions written clearly on their face. “I admire you, really. Not just anyone could make this happen.”

“I’m just glad I can help people. It’s kind of sad to see how much crime is influenced by the accessibility of necessities. How many people turned to crime out of desperation…” That was another thing that Villain appreciated about Hero. They never assumed the worst about criminals.

“I stole to survive,” Villain offered. “Once I didn’t need to anymore, I thought there’s no way I could get away with it, so I made my new goal gathering so much power that it wouldn’t even matter if I was found out.” They could see the sympathy in Hero’s eyes. Villain always thought they would hate it. That they would be bitter that someone only offered help when they were in too deep to accept it. They only felt an distant sort of gratitude, that someone cared at all, even if it was too late. Maybe Hero would find a way to help them, as impossible as it seemed. They had a way of making things seem possible.

After their conversation with Hero, Villain went back to people watching. They found themself doing it more and more lately. A part of Villain they thought long dead warmed to see people in situations painfully similar to theirs finally getting the support they needed. And if Villain foiled some other villains’ plans to ruin Hero’s efforts, no one had to know.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #hero #villain #writing prompt #writing snippet

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lifesizehysteria · 2 months ago

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A Mother's Blessings | A Bridgerton Fic

Part 6: Anthony

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Characters: Violet Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Kate Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton Summary: A collection of moments through Violet and Marcus’ courtship in which Violet seeks the blessings of her children. AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Violet’s body hummed, and as she entered the drawing room after seeing Marcus out, she held her hand against her stomach, her other hand resting on top, as though that might stop her from feeling the absence of his hand in hers. It did not.

She was hoping to slip into the room unnoticed, where the remaining members of her family were gathered, but she had barely stepped foot inside when five heads turned towards her, their faces a range of emotions from Hyacinth’s bright, expectant smile to Anthony’s glowering scowl.

“Back from your stroll, Mother?” Anthony asked pointedly.

“Mhmm.” Violet smiled at him, stubbornly holding onto the giddiness she was still feeling.

“With Lord Anderson?” Hyacinth asked as she dashed over to her mother, her hands clasped under her chin and curls bouncing around her smiling face.

Violet looked down at her, blinking in bewilderment. “Yes, but… How did you know?” She had only mentioned at breakfast that she would be going to the gardens, not that she would be accompanied.

“We saw you in the garden through the window,” Gregory said from his seat beside Benedict.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Violet said with an awkward laugh, her smile returning to her face while her gaze darted around the room and heat rose to her cheeks. Her mind immediately wondered just what they had seen, but she pushed the thought away. It was no matter. What was done, was done.

“You are looking quite flushed, Mother,” Benedict said, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Violet’s head whipped towards him, daggers of warning in her eyes.

Benedict laughed outright, looking nonplussed as he crossed one leg over the other, clasping his hands around his knee as he tilted his most charming smile at her.

“It must have been rather vigorous. The stroll, I mean.”

Violet could feel her whole body blushing, but she refused to be embarrassed about such matters, by her own son, no less. She was an adult, and there was nothing she had to feel ashamed of.

“That is none of your business,” she said, attempting to sound blasé but coming across much more curt than intended.

Benedict, bordering on gleeful at having clearly ruffled her feathers, said, “Perhaps next time I shall insist on chaperoning.”

“Benedict Bridgerton!”

Before her admonishment was even complete, Anthony shoved his way out of his chair, making Violet turn, her mouth hanging open in shock as she watched him thunder from the room.

Kate prepared to stand, but Violet gestured for her to sit back down. She offered her daughter-in-law a tender glance, one hand coming to rest just over her sternum.

“I believe it would be best for me to handle this one.”

Kate bowed her head, and Violet offered her a reassuring smile before turning a glare fit for murder on her second son.

Benedict showed no remorse, offering only a self-congratulatory grin in return before his mother swept from the room.

Her footsteps echoed down the hall as she approached Anthony’s study. She paused for a moment outside the wooden door, collecting herself. The effects of her earlier embrace were still present in her body; her skin still tingled, her cheeks were still flushed, and if she was to be quite honest with herself, she would have much preferred retiring to her chambers to linger in the delight of it for as long as it remained than to have this particular conversation. Her mistake had been returning to the drawing room at all.

Unfortunately, this situation had been brewing for weeks now, and it seemed, between what occurred with Marcus outside the garden, and the way Anthony responded to even a suggestion of intimacy between them, it required her immediate attention.

After a few deep breaths, she knocked on the door but did not wait for an answer before pushing it open.

“Anthony?” she called, closing the door behind her and crossing into the room.

“Mother, I am busy,” her son said, sitting at his desk with nary a quill nor a sheet of paper in sight. His eyes were fixed on the portrait of his father above the mantle.

“I think it is time we talked.”

“I do not wish to talk. I wish to—”

“To brood?”

“I am not brooding,” he insisted.

“Forgive me,” she said with a soft chuckle. “I must have been fooled by the furrow in your brow and the jaw clenched to the point it might require a surgeon to loosen.” Violet watched as her son jutted out his jaw and worked it back and forth for a moment. “Perhaps you are simply in need of some rest.”

“I do not require rest.”

“Then what is it you do require?”

“What I require is to know what you are doing with that man!” The way he was nearly seething took Violet by surprise, though she concealed it, aside from her eyes widening ever so slightly.

“If you must know,” she said with a subtle lift of her chin, “I am enjoying his company.”

Anthony spun his head, panic stricken as he searched his mother’s face for the meaning behind her words. Finding no evidence of sincerity behind the double entendre, and, in fact, seeing the slightest hint of a cheeky smile on her face, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I am to leave with Kate to India in three days' time. How am I to leave you here alone, knowing such a man is pursuing you?”

“Well, I think the easiest way is for you to simply get onto the ship before it leaves,” Violet shrugged, determined not to get pulled into his dramatics.

Anthony looked at her without a glint of humor. Despite herself, Violet pursed her lips, feeling the edge of irritation setting in.

“I am a grown woman, Anthony. I do not need you to chaperone me. I am quite capable.”

“I do not doubt you, Mother. It is him I do not trust. He is a rake.”

“He had a reputation in his youth, yes. Not unlike your reputation, as recently as last season.”

“That is not the same.”

“It is not any different. You are now blissfully wed, expecting your first child, and you could not be further from the young man you were before marrying Kate. Marcus—Lord Anderson,” she felt a flush rise to her cheeks at the slip, “is no different. Indeed, he was married, he raised his children, he has done his duty and he, like you, does not deserve to be judged purely by the character of his past.”

Anthony flexed his jaw, his eyebrows furrowing again as he stared down at his desk. When Violet tried to catch his gaze, he averted it even further away.

“My dear boy,” she said as gently as she could given her current frustration, “what is really troubling you?”

“I have told you,” he grumbled.

“Yes, and a simple conversation between you and Lord Anderson would have put such a concern to rest, so I do not believe that is truly what troubles you.”

Anthony refused to look at her, looking remarkably like the toddler who used to pout about not getting extra dessert.

Waiting, she clasped her hands in front of her waist, and when he did not answer, she closed her eyes and heaved a sigh.

“Is this to be the way we leave things, then? Before you depart to India for heaven knows how long?” she asked, disappointment coloring her words.

“What do you want me to say, Mother?”

“I want you to tell me what is causing you such distress about my involvement with a gentleman who is more than honorable, when no declaration has even been made.” Her voice remained low, her steady calm a contrast to his rising, barely contained tension. “Honestly, Anthony, you act as though I am some naive girl in need of protection and not your mother who has been Lady of this house longer than you have been alive. What I should like is for you to be honest with me, so that we might sort through the matter and move on.”

Anthony stretched his hand that had been balled in a fist on his desk. Beneath Violet’s expectant stare, he flexed his jaw again, jutting it out as he closed his eyes and tipped his head to one side. Finally, he opened his eyes again, looking back up to Edmund’s portrait on the wall.

“You have always said that Father was the love of your life. That he was the greatest love you would ever know.” His voice was quiet but tense with a hint of something in it. Hurt? Accusation? Both, perhaps? Violet could not quite tell just yet.

“He is,” she said plainly.

“And yet you allow another man to court you.”

“Well, it is not as if your father is here to do it,” she said with a dry laugh.

Anthony did not laugh. He grew very still and spoke with a deathly seriousness. “If Kate died, I would never replace her.”

Violet’s mouth fell open slightly and she blinked, taken aback. “Is that what you believe I am doing? Replacing your father?”

When he looked at her, beneath the anger ready to brim over, there was hurt in his eyes. “Is it not?”

Violet bit her lip, studying his face for a moment before coming to perch herself on the edge of his desk.

“I realize that you do not understand, and it is my sincerest hope that you never will. I pray that you never have to know the pain of losing the person you have built your entire life around, whose existence is so interwoven with yours that their death feels like the death of your very soul.” She paused to breathe, feeling that familiar twinge of pain in her chest. After a moment, it dissipated, and she was able to continue. “But if you had, you would understand that that kind of love is impossible to replace, and that even if it were possible, I would never choose to do so.”

Anthony scoffed. “And yet, you allow another man to court you. You are right, Mother. I do not understand.”

Violet’s eyebrows drew together, the corners of her mouth tightening just a little. “I carry your father’s love with me, always. I feel it every day–” She stopped, realizing she was telling him something he already knew, defending against some ill-conceived accusation that was an excuse for his hurt feelings and which was utterly unfair to her.

“Anthony, I have spent the last twelve years missing him, turning my grief into an identity worn to honor him, so the world would never forget the incredible man that he was. But I am not made of stone. I cannot spend my entire life as a living memorial, and it is unfair for you to expect me to do so while you get to move on, and find joy and love again.” She looked over her shoulder at the portrait of Edmund, her heart aching just a little more than it usually did these days. A quiet reverence came over her as she turned her gaze back to her son. “Over the last few years I have watched both you and Daphne, and now Colin and Francesca, find love, just as I had hoped for all of you, and it has made me realize just how alone I have felt.”

“You are not alone. We are all here with you.”

“Dearest,” she said, almost laughing, “you know that is not the loneliness I speak of. I see the way you look at Kate, like she is the essence of life itself, and I miss it. If I could have that with your father again, I would choose it. Every time, throughout eternity and long after. But, for whatever reason, that was not the choice that I was given, and I have finally realized that opening myself up to the opportunity of new love does not diminish the love I have, and will always have, for your father.”

“I do not believe you can truly love two people at the same time,” Anthony muttered defensively.

“I can,” she said with certainty, then added softly, “and I do. I am in love with Lord–with Marcus, Anthony, and whether or not you can accept it will not stop it being true.”

He looked up at her, his voice a chilled matter-of-fact, “You are to marry him, then?”

Violet shrugged. “I do not know. He has not asked, and I do not wish him to. Not yet, anyway. But if he does, and I do accept, I wish to do so with your blessing.”

“Why do you not wish him to ask?” he asked, surprising his mother with genuine curiosity.

“There are many things to consider. One of which is the comfort of my children with the idea.”

He tilted his head in question. “What do you mean?”

“I will not have a man, no matter the depths of my feelings for him, cause a rift between any of us. You children are my family, and nothing is more important to me. Any love I have will always come as an addition to that, and if it cannot, then it cannot be.”

Anthony’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You would truly turn him down if one of us did not agree?”

A slightly sad smile pulled across her lips as she reached over and put her hand on top of his. “I am your mother first and foremost. There is nothing I would not sacrifice.”

Anthony grew quiet, his eyebrows drawing together, looking contemplative as he gazed down at her hand clasped over his. When he did not speak again, Violet felt herself growing weary of the conversation. There was nothing left for her to say. The matter was solely at his feet.

She cleared her throat and squeezed his hand before standing. “You do not have to give me an answer now. The question has not even been asked. But I do hope you will consider what I have said, and that you will write to me while you are in India.”

With one more look at him, she turned and left the room, heading for her chambers where she hoped to be able to recall whatever was left of her embrace with Marcus while trying to ignore the little nagging worry in the back of her mind that it might be the only one they would ever share.

#bridgerton #violet bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #kate bridgerton #kate sharma #hyacinth bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #written by lifesizehysteria #fanfiction #blessings fic

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write-orflight · 1 year ago

Text

Golden: Chapter 3

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (Friends to lovers)

Rating: M

Words: 2. 1K

Warnings: No warnings. Over-bearing mother maybe??

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: One misheard conversation turns Y/N and Spencer’s perfect friendship upside down. Now, she needs him to play pretend for her parents wedding. Will their friendship last this one little hiccup? Or will it change how they see each other forever?

A.N Guess who's back in the house?? Sorry for my long hiatus I didn't have a way to write for a while but now with my new laptop. I plan on writing a lot more! reply to this if you want to be back on my taglist. Love, Cia

Chapter 3: I know you were way too bright for me

You sprinted across the quad at record speed. In fact, you’d be surprised if a track coach didn’t try to recruit you because you knew you had to be breaking some type of record. You saw Spencer walking from his Advanced Physics class when you tackled him from behind, sending him toppling over.

Spencer sputtered for a second before turning over realizing it was you. “Y-Y/N, What the heck?!”

“Shut up.” You say, from your perch on top of him. You pull the folded piece of paper out of your back pocket, shoving it in the taller man’s face. “Read it and weep.”

Spencer squinted slightly at the paper. “This is a C…”

“Hell yea, it’s a C!” You say, excitedly. “In calculus! Effectively bringing my D up to a low C.”

“And we’re happy?”

“Yes!” You say, shaking the man by his shoulders. “Because I never have to take that shit again, which means we’re going out tonight.”

Spencer groans which you mock. “Don’t you think you should be studying instead? To bump that grade up.”

“Nope, C’s get degrees, so I’m getting shots. Which means you are too.”

“Fine… but you’ll have to let me up first.” Spencer says. You mumble a quick ‘oh yea’ as you get up off the man’s lap. He brushes the dirt off his pants as he stands with a small frown on his face.

The two of you walk in silence in the direction of the bar just off campus before Spencer looks over at you.

“I’m proud of you for getting a C, Y/N.” Spencer smiles down at you. “I know you were struggling with Calculus. You should be proud.”

You smile up at the man. Spencer doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the supernova you seemed to hide behind your teeth. “Thank you, Spence.”

—-----------------------------------------

“Let’s just tell her we both died.” You say, as you drive down the road that leads closer and closer to your childhood home. “We’re in the FBI, she’ll believe it.”

Spencer laughs. “Faking your death won’t solve our problems, Y/N.”

“Fine… witness protection then.”

“We’re gonna be fine, our story is air-tight, we prepped for this, and it’s only for a week.”

You sank more and more into your seat as Spencer turned down Cherrytree Drive, your childhood street. You couldn’t help the dread that entered your heart as you passed the big tree you used to climb as a kid which was also how you broke your arm in the 7th grade.

Spencer parks in your parents' very expensive, long driveway. Your parents were both doctors and did fairly well for themselves even after retirement due to some good investments. Spencer looked over at the petrified look on your face and gave you a pity smile.

“Look, if you want we can say there was a last minute case and we can turn back. But it’s your parent’s anniversary and even though you don’t like the circumstances, I know you’d be more upset if you missed it.” You blew a breath, you knew Spencer was right, as he often was. “I’ll be right here… Whatever you want to do.”

You sigh again. “Fine, let’s just get this over with.” You say, before swinging the car door open.

The first person you see is your sister running down the front steps, her mellow-demeanored husband following shyly behind her. You run halfway to meet her as Spencer grabs your bags.

“Y/N!” The wind is knocked out of you slightly as the 2 of you collided. “God, it’s been too long, how come you never visit?”

“You know, my work schedule. We’re just lucky the serial killers took a break this week.” You laugh at your sister’s scared expression. She never liked the details of your job, being one of those people who thought Serial killers only existed in the 70s.

She changes the subject almost as soon as possible. “I see you roped Spencer into saving you from the Momster. Do you really think you guys are gonna pull it off?”

“Well, Spencer seems to think so and he’s smarter than me, so.”

Your sister hums for a second. “You know, I think you two are gonna pull it off.” She says, in a way that almost sounds sneaky, you raise an eyebrow at her. “You wanna know why I think you’re going to pull it off?”

You decide to indulge her. “I don’t know, why Rachel?”

“Because I don’t think you guys are going to make it through the week before realizing you’re madly in love with each other.” She says, making mock kissy faces at you which you push her for.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rach, You know me and Spencer are just friends.”

She holds her hands up in mock defense. “Hey, I’m just saying. I don’t look at any of my friends the way the two of you look at each other. I’m just saying maybe this weekend, the party, all the Romantic energy.” Rachel says, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You roll your eyes at that. “Maybe you’ll see what I see.” Rachel shrugs.

“And what do you see?” You say, deciding to indulge her.

“A man who's completely in love with you.” She says, turning to the two men who were getting your bags from the car. Well, Jacob was getting the bags from the car while Spencer excitedly explained ancient marriage traditions. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You look over at your sister who is smirking at you, you roll your eyes at her again.

“Come on, let’s go find mom.”

You find your mom standing at the kitchen counter baking while your little sister, Isabelle, was sitting on the other side of the kitchen island studying. You walk up and tussle her hair.

“Hey Squirt!” You say, excitedly.

“You know, I’m an adult now, right?” She says, hands moving up frantically to fix her hair. “I don’t like being called Squirt.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Izzy.” You say, watching her grumble a soft ‘my name is Isabelle’ under her breath before turning your attention to your mother. “Hey Mama.” You say, softly as you go into her waiting open arms.

“Oh, my baby! I’m so happy you were able to make it!” She says into your shoulder. She pulls away holding you at arms length. “So… where is he?” She questions in a kind of sing-song tone.

“Where’s who?” You say, deciding to play dumb to mess with your mother. She just levels you with a look. “He’s getting our bags with Jake.”

Your mother lets you go to swat at you. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were dating Spencer! Of all people!”

“Yea, I know, Mama.” You say, already starting to feel bad for lying to your mother. “It’s just new and we work together… we just wanted to keep it under wraps and all.”

“And it’s not a problem? Working together?”

You shake your head. “Spencer and I work well together.”

“No, I mean dating and working together. Your coworkers don’t mind?”

“Oh.” You say, understanding her question now. “No, none so far. But we do different things for the team.”

“Oh, I know they were probably rooting for you crazy kids as much as we were. When I told your dad, he even smiled.” She says, happily. It doesn’t sound like much but for the stoic man it was practically jumping for joy.

As if on cue, Spencer walks in and your mother immediately forgets you exist. “Oh, Spencer!” She says, smiling brightly at the young man.

“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N.” He says, softly.

“Oh, honey, you can call me Abigail.” The older woman says. “Or even Mom if you’d like.”

“Ma!” You say, slightly embarrassed. “Do you think we could go upstairs and unpack? We had a long trip.”

“Of course, honey. I set up the guest room for you guys, unless you want to sleep in your old room?” Your mother asks. You frown at the thought of sleeping in your eye-draining bright pink room with Tween Beat posters probably still on the walls and shook your head.

“We’ll take the guest room.” You say, practically pulling Spencer away.

Once the two of you are secluded in the room, you take the first sigh of relief you had been holding.

“We can still back out if you want.” You say, as Spencer sets your bags down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know my mom would be so… pushy immediately.”

“I did.” You give Spencer a confused expression. “I’ve been preparing for this since you asked me. I know what your family’s like, it can't be any worse than what we do everyday.”

“It could be. It’s my mother.”

As if you were speaking of the devil, you hear the familiar rapping of your formative years on the door before your mother just fully walks in half-covering her eyes with her hands.

“Hope everyone’s decent?”

“We’ve been up here for 4 minutes, Ma.” You say, rolling your eyes while Spencer smirked at the antics of your mother.

“I just wanted to see what you were wearing tonight.” Your mom smiled. You and Spencer looked up shocked.

“Umm, what’s tonight, mother?” You say, eyebrows raised. Your mom holds her hands up in mock surrender.

“I know we said we were only having the two parties for the vow renewal but I was so excited that you were coming home and bringing Spencer. I may have invited a couple of people over for dinner tonight.”

You clench your jaw, knowing your moms game. “Uh-huh, a couple of people… And how many is a couple people?”

“Like… maybe 50… or 70?”

“Mom! We’ve been traveling all day, I hardly think we’ll be the best entertainment.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be fine. It’s only dinner anyway.” Your mom says, tapping your cheek in that enduring this is not open for discussion way she tends to do. “Now, try to look presentable, people will start arriving by 6.” She says, leaving without another word.

“Shit!” You exclaim, frustratedly, face planting into the bed “Spencer, honestly if you want to leave right now, I wouldn’t blame you. I should’ve known she’d pull some shit like this.” You say, muffled into the clean sheets.

You feel a hand at the small of your back. You ignore the warm feeling that travels up your spine at Spencer’s touch. You knew this weekend was gonna be a test of your self-control but if a hand on your back was going to make you dizzy then maybe you needed to be the one to back out this weekend.

“I know who your mom is too, so I already anticipated it. However, if you just want to leave, we can go.”

“But then I’d feel bad, I dragged you out here, made you help me with a ruse…”

“You need to remember, I came here for you. I decided to go along with this for you, because you asked me to. I care about you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You turn over and look up at Spencer and you can’t help but feel your heart sink. Here was a man, who had done nothing but make sure you were okay the entire duration of your friendship and all you could think of was the softness of his eyes. How the light in the room danced in his eyes, how his jaw looked in his position above you. Spencer was a good friend, your best friend, and he was here because he wanted to help his friend. And here you were unable to stop the fluttery feeling in your stomach when he looked at you. You knew you liked Spencer but you also knew you didn’t deserve Spencer. As a friend or… anything else. The absolute least you could do was try to be a good friend, so you swallow that feeling before smiling up at Spencer.

“It’s just the weekend, right?” You say. “Nothing changes.”

Spencer looks slightly remorseful, only for a brief second before smiling back at you. “Yea.. nothing changes.”

Perm Taglist: @moonshinerbynight @crimeshowtrash @richardrosejpeg @itsametaphorbriansblog @urguardiandevil @no-honey-no @this-is-why-imma-die-alone @scarletred79@idroppedmygourd @luwheezys @avis-exe @newvialuna @onlyhereforcriminalmindsthings @ceeellewrites @eevee0722 @crying-on-the-floor @thereaderlexa @makeadealwithdean @ifyousawthisnoyoudidnot @spencers-dria @measure-in-pain @jori21 @002345k @fictional-hooman

#criminal minds #bau x reader #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid

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darsynia · 2 years ago

Text

Shipping and Handling | Ch 2: Urgency

(Stucky x Reader slow burn, Steve x Reader fast burn, Friendship all around)

SERIES MASTERLIST | STORY MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

Summary: There’s a chance you and Steve aren’t the only people dealing with the strange chemical bond from Mistress, so you agree to submit to daily tests that should help Dr. Banner figure out what’s happening, and maybe how to stop it. The problem? Seeing each other every day brings a new set of side-effects that both of you hide from each other and Banner until things come to a head– not just for the two of you, but also for the man who has to deal with you: Bucky Barnes. Length/Warnings: 3,028 / sexual situations Prompt: @allcapsbingo April Adoptable: Sex Pollen ((I know, right??))

Tags: @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan @brooke0297 @caplanreblogsfics @hails270105 @venusfalling @zzz000eee @eralen @mrsevans90 @myinconnelly1 @thorinsmistress @cjand10 @wckedheart @samfreakingwinchester @blind-devil @sanniegirl1214 @karimac @dispatchvampire

Excerpt:

Steve’s expression turns sheepish. “I was trying to persuade him to walk you out.”

“Let me guess, he was doing the same?”

He nods. The elevator protests the doors remaining open, and he murmurs some kind of command that changes the red color to green.

“You could escort me down?”

“That’s probably a bad idea,” Steve says solicitously. There’s a light in his eyes that sends a thrill along your spine, and you almost wish you could push him to change his mind-- but then you remember how important it is to figure out what the hell Mistress is doing to the many people exposed to it every day. Encouraging Steve Rogers to take an elevator ride so you can stand near him and wish he would kiss you is probably not furthering the cause of science.

Chapter Two: Urgency

In retrospect, inviting you over for dinner has clearly made things more complicated, not less. Bucky had figured you’d show up, they’d order food, and then the three of you would have an uncomfortable but necessary conversation (one he’d get to enjoy observing, which would make up for the awkwardness).

Instead, he’s barely holding in his amusement at the way things have devolved into an R-rated I Love Lucy episode.

In a strained voice, you observe, “The connections are hopelessly stretched. You’ll probably need a whole new stove.”

Bucky just nods.

“It’s actually kind of impressive, the way the metal crocheted with the cotton in this tea towel withstood the stress like that.”

He clears his throat to cover his need to laugh, but the sound ends on a wheeze.

“Damnit, what?”

“You practically knelt down in front of him. Take pity, will you Doll?”

Bucky only realizes the endearment after he’s said it aloud, and to minimize the damage, he clenches his jaw and twists his lips into an inconsequential smile.

It doesn’t work.

“You’ve never called me that before,” you say, your lovely eyes lit with surprise and something else, something he shouldn’t be looking for.

Gruffly, he says, “Really?” It’s a shut-down tactic, because people are much less likely to elaborate on something they’re uncertain over. He maximizes its effect by leaning down to examine the oven door, which is indeed fucked.

“Really. I liked it, don’t worry.” Your voice is soft. “Looks like you’ll be needing these menus, I doubt the stove is kitchen rated with the door off! Come on, I’m sure Steve is going to be hungry when he shows back up.”

Are… you joking about what Steve’s doing in his room right now? Bucky lunges over to block your way out of the kitchen. The shirt you’re wearing smells like the detergent he and Steve use, and something about smelling Steve on you sends heat straight to his groin.

He really should’ve punched Banner, too.

“What?”

“Are you sure you want everything out in the open?” You look at him, uncomprehending, and Bucky’s a hypocrite, because there’s no way any of what he’s been thinking about lately can be in the open.

You’re shaking your head at him. “I don’t--”

He grips the doorframe so tightly it gives a little under his metal hand. “Steve is jerking off in there. He’d only do that while we’re waiting out here because he has to. If he comes out here and you make a comment like that, he’ll feel guilty for--”

“--weeks. Maybe forever. Shit.” you interrupt. He pushes off from the door to let you pass, and you continue; “Banner seemed certain that the… intensity was because we’d spent those two weeks apart, but this is--” You break off and drop the pile of menus on the dining room table with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m really worried it’s going to be untenable, but then I remember all the people out there this could happen to, you know?”

Bucky nods toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, where Steve is probably touching himself right now. “Is that the ‘untenable’ you’re talking about?”

Your face wrenches in embarrassment, eyes closed, and you nod.

Because he doesn’t want to go through this whole ordeal without some amusement at his own expense, he says, “There are two bedrooms, if you need to borrow mine? You know where it is.”

Your eyes pop open, and you suck in a breath, tightening the blue shirt enough that he can see your nipples are hard. Then you smack him hard on the right arm.

“The look on your face! Stop fake-leering at me, asshole, I was already worried about that!”

That was close. “Worried about what?”

“Well I got to thinking, it’s not like the combined pheromones are inert, right? So anyone who spends time around the two of us could get hit with them. Hell, maybe even the solo ones we were making might be able to--” You retreat to the other side of the table like you need the fortitude of distance. “You’ve still been able to achieve-- I mean… Have you?”

“Roll that back. You think that stuff could turn me as horny as the two of you?”

You wince. “Promise me you’ll tell me if anything changes? For science?”

“I promise,” Bucky says. He is affected, but nothing whatsoever has changed.

“And you can still…”

He raises his eyebrows and pretends not to understand.

“Bucky!” Your exasperation is not a deterrent at all.

“Just spit it out.”

“Can you come?”

He cannot resist. “Come where?”

“Oh my God, I cannot believe you!” Instead of stomping off to cool down, you march right up to him and grab the loose sides of the dress shirt he’s wearing on top of his tee. “I am asking you if you can orgasm, you monumental dickhead!”

Maybe the pheromones you and Steve are emitting are doing something, because a number of inappropriate things leap immediately to mind.

He chooses the least offensive of the five. “Pretty sure I can, but I’m willing to go try right now, if it’s that important to you.”

Steve speaks up from the hallway before you can vocalize the affectionate fury Bucky sees written all over your face. “Everything okay?”

Steve’s hairline is wet, like he’d stepped into the bathroom to splash his face with water, and his own shirt is untucked. By now, Bucky’s used to steeling himself against his attraction to Steve, but he’s not used to being so close to someone who can figure out what he’s thinking before he shoves it away. Your hands tighten on his shirt, and when he looks back at you, there’s understanding in your eyes.

Understanding and guilt.

Carefully, you reach up to adjust Bucky’s collar as if that’s what you’d been doing all along, patting at his chest maternally before stepping away. “Starting to think you had Steve help you dress before you’d show up at the restaurant for those 40’s nights,” you tease.

Shit. Shit. Are you trying to-- Shit.

Across the room, Steve’s body language is stiff, and he adopts a false joviality that has Bucky screaming in his own head at the multitude of misunderstandings.

“Are you kidding? He snuck out! Probably didn’t want me to ask why he was wearing all that leather on a weeknight.” A second later, Steve waves his hand in embarrassment and comes over to the table. “That came out like I was implying he dresses in leather on the weeken--”

“Stop!” Bucky groans. “I’m starving and the two of you are nuts. Pick something and order, would you?” He walks off toward the window and hopes that you and Steve will mix pheromones so much you’ll completely forget what you think you just saw.

The need to stare at each other (and feed him) seems to be enough to preoccupy the two of you. Bucky looks out at the bustle of rush-hour traffic and tries to tamp down his panic. Of all the struggles he’d faced in the past year, he’d never have picked ‘caring too much about his closest friends’ as the one to give him the most trouble. It’s an unfair thought on its face, because the burden of all his other shit has been lifted by having you and Steve around.

It’s not just caring, though, and as much as he wants to lie to himself, it’s not just physical, either. If there was any way to reassure you about the pheromones, he would, but if Bucky’s honest with himself, he’s glad you’re worried about that. It gives him cover.

He sighs. A thought that had occurred to him a few nights ago pops back up. To have friends is one thing, to want someone is another thing, but to know better than to act on it? To step aside for the sake of the people he cares most about in the world… that’s a sign that he’s more human than weapon. It’s cold comfort, but he’s used to the cold.

The knowledge of what Steve had been doing and why is burning through your insides. It looks like it’s burning through him too, but from embarrassment, since he’s just worked through his other discomfort.

Steve clears his throat and reaches over to scatter some of the menus. “Any preferences?”

“Let me see what we’ve got,” you say, and he nods, loosing a lock of wet hair that flops onto his forehead.

It suddenly occurs to you the reason why it’s wet-- he went to wash his hands, and just in case that wasn’t enough, he washed his face, too. Because he’s a gentleman, despite what it was he was doing. You feel such a rush of pure affection for him that it shakes your ability to stand. To cover it, you drag out the chair you’re standing near and fall into it, reaching for the brochures.

“Do you, ah…”

He falls silent, and when you look up, he looks supremely uncomfortable. You lift your brows.

“Do you need to…”

You are completely baffled-- until you aren’t. “Oh, God, thank you, but no. I’ll-- I’ll manage.”

His nod is anxious, so you hand over the menu you had your eye on and do your very best not to worry that you should have taken him up on it. After all, you weren’t able to change your underpants, but if there’s a world where you have to ask Captain America if he can smell your arousal, you’d rather just disappear into the NYC sewers.

Dinner goes surprisingly well. You already knew that Bucky and Steve got on well, and over the course of the evening, you can tell that your rapport with Bucky is reassuring to Steve. Instead of making you uncomfortable, the simmering heat you’re afflicted with seems to keep you on your toes, a constant reminder to be careful about what you say and do, lest you awaken the same banked fire in Steve.

You let the two men run the conversation, and at times they almost fall over each other to share anecdotes. When you’re ready to leave, you step away to use the bathroom and come out to Bucky and Steve deep in a serious discussion, almost an argument. Maybe it’s your full, happy stomach, maybe it’s your sense of impishness, but instead of alerting them to your presence in the room, you sneak over to the door and make it to the elevator before Steve catches up to you.

“Making me feel like a failed host,” he says, jogging over to hold his hand over the just-opened doors.

“Not at all,” you smile. “You two looked like you were having an important conversation.”

Steve’s expression turns sheepish. “I was trying to persuade him to walk you out.”

“Let me guess, he was doing the same?”

He nods. The elevator protests the doors remaining open, and Steve murmurs some kind of command that changes the red color to green.

“You could escort me down?”

“Good night then, Sir Knight,” you tease, dipping into a curtsey. Your skirt is tight along your thighs, but you’re able to use the tails of your borrowed blue shirt to aid in the look.

When you lift your head, the elevator doors are closing, and Steve is nowhere in sight. It’s not a big deal-- you’ll be seeing each other once a day for the foreseeable future anyway.

Not that you’re looking forward to that, or anything.

Steve and Bucky had agreed to show up at the performance the next day, to satisfy the proximity requirement. As expected, the 90’s crowd is different from the 40’s one, but the energy is high, and you end the night on a literal high note. The plan is for the two of them to come over after the set to spend a few minutes physically close by, but as usual, the band is crowded by admirers who ‘just want to chat a few minutes.’

You can see that Bucky’s temper is flaring by the way Steve’s fingertips whiten on his friend’s shoulder, so you try to hurry. The last person to push through to speak to you is carrying two of the restaurant’s signature ‘flagon’ beer glasses, and he enthusiastically thrusts one into your hands before you can stop him. The action sloshes the liquid over onto the back of your hand.

Before you can formulate a polite refusal, the restaurant’s bar bouncer Benji throws a collegial arm around the man’s shoulder and guides him away.

“Saved a life, right there,” Steve says in a low voice beside you. You actually slump over into him for a few seconds in relief, feeling him initially stiffen at first contact before his arm comes around to support you.

“What do you mean?” you ask, lifting your hand up to lick off the alcohol.

To your surprise, Steve spins you the few steps out into the dance floor. The ballad currently playing means that the couples around you are slow-dancing in the ‘modern’ style, hands on hips or shoulders, swaying close with little to no artistry. His hand at your wrist is an inexorable band as he positions your palm flat on his chest, his other hand grasping the small of your back in defiance of convention.

“Okay, clearly you have panicked,” you say, blinking up at him. Your other hand is holding onto the lapel of his suit jacket as if for dear life, because holy god, the man sends your senses reeling.

“Inside pocket, Mistress test tabs. Swab your hand,” he whispers hoarsely.

Your steps falter, and you nod. Testing has become second-nature at this point, so you don’t even need to check the box for the color key.

“Orange,” Steve says, when he sees the strip. His hand at your back sweeps you closer. Orange is more than the yellow or green of faint traces.

The drink was dosed.

“On it,” Bucky husks as he brushes past the two of you, plucking the test strip from your fingers on the way. Because of Steve’s close stance, you’re helpless to stop him-- a point Steve makes very clear by spreading his fingers at your back. The possessiveness of the action works like napalm in your bloodstream, but the pressure of each fingertip against your skin sends a very clear message: you may not follow.

There’s napalm, and then there’s napalm.

Fixing your eyes on his chest, and with a bright smile hiding that your teeth are clenched, you hiss, “Steve, if we weren’t in my workplace, I would be pitching a fit right now. You are not in charge of what I do or say, do you understand me?”

The pained sound from his throat drags your eyes up to his. Steve looks stricken, and you realize you’d offered the man who tried to deliberately drug you with Mistress more grace than the one who dearly wishes he hadn’t. Your apology dusts in your mouth when he starts speaking.

“I couldn’t protect you when it counted. I can’t protect you from me. I will damn well protect you from everything else!”

As he speaks, Steve moves the two of you off of the dance floor and back past the bar into the alcove Benji usually stands in. He’s shaking, and you’re overwhelmed, the fear of what you’ve just dodged only prickling the edges of your consciousness. The only thing you can think of to defuse the moment is Bucky’s gripe about Steve’s reticence for swearing aloud.

At the very last second, you realize you can’t use the phrasing you’d meant to, because this man’s mother has been dead a very very long time.

“You kiss your lovers with that mouth?”

Time stands still for a long second as you regard each other. Then, Steve’s head tips to the side, eyes locking onto your mouth. His lips part, and the sigh he releases seems to release the angry tension he’d been holding since pulling you close in the first place.

“You tell me,” he whispers, releasing you and holding his hands up like a man being held hostage. In a way he is. You both are.

You can’t recall wanting to kiss someone more than you do right now. To hell with absolutely everything else! you think to yourself, reaching your hand up toward the side of his face.

The wetness on that hand reminds you, and you draw back. “Shit. Shit, Steve! Mistress!”

He looks at your lips again, then your hand, then your chest, and then dashes off into the crowd of people only to reappear again impossibly quickly with a damp washcloth from the bar. Without asking, he scrubs at your hand-- but you bite your lip at the sensations. Even that small amount of the drug is affecting you, having soaked in while you were distracted by the undercurrent of desire you always feel around Steve.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your voice low.

He makes a little noise in response, then puts a hand on each of your shoulders. “We need to get to Banner. If what I’m feeling is related to the Mistress in your system--”

“Oh God,” you whisper.

Steve’s grip on you tightens, and he snaps his head back like he’d been about to lean in for a kiss before his instincts kicked in.

Your instincts are affected by Mistress, but you don’t give a shit. You reach up with both hands and cup his face. “In the cab.”

“Stark sent a car, actually. I sent a distress call.”

“Even better.”

To be continued...

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