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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 7 months ago

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Perfect Size

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is described as short, name-calling, swearing, Daemon being a horny menace, soft!dom! Daemon, talk of impregnation, talk of pregnancy, pregnancy, smut

Summary: It was Daemon’s life mission to remind you of your size difference, in every aspect of your shared lives.

A/N: This is part of the wonderful @targaryen-dynasty 3K celebration, congrats by the way!!!! I had so much fun with this prompt. Enjoy everyone and enjoy the other wonderful and talented writers' fics. 3K Celebration Masterlist

My masterlist

The gods make humans in their image. They make them grow until they see them as perfect. Or so your Septa used to say whenever you were frustrated about your small stature. And it was no help that the greatest rake of the realm, Lord Flea Bottom, the Rouge Prince himself, made it his life’s mission to remind you of how small you were.

As children, you had been a bit taller than him. He had a problem with it. The need to be bigger than a stupid girl was great. His growth spurt came and he nearly towered over you, looking down at you with a smirk on his lips. “How is the weather down there?” He would often tease. “Just fine.” You would retort back. “I hope your small brain will get enough air up there. A shame if you lost more of it.” Was your sarcastic comeback.

The older the two of you got, the taller he would get and you would only grow a few inches if you even grew at all. First, he was slightly lanky. His muscles had yet to grow. He would remind you of a newborn horse whenever he would stumble over his two long feet as he trained with his sword. Often giggling to his dismay.

“I will cut your head off, and then you will be smaller!” He would shout in anger when he saw you snickering. Daemon’s temper seemed to grow with every inch he gained. You enjoyed it immensely when it would rise because of you.

As young adults, it was fairly certain that you would grow no more. If you stood behind one of the large dinner chairs you could easily hide behind them. Everything seemed to dwarf you.

Daemon prided himself in the knowledge that he was taller than you. Towering over you like the Hightower in Oldtown. And he never passed down the opportunity to remind you. “Shouldn’t you be with your nurse, little one? I think you got the wrong room. The nursery is that way.” Or other things.

You would glare at him. Often kicked his shin when no one was watching. He would yowl in pain. Jump around and hold his leg. “You little pest.” “Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds.” You teased back.

But there were the times he would call you more affectionate words associated with your small stature.

“Why the sour face, my little love?” He mumbled into your ear as he stepped out of the shadows. He had been hiding from his grandmother and her attempts to put boring and plain noblewoman under his nose.

A huff of annoyance escaped your throat. “Mother forced me to wear this ridiculous gown.” You seethed. Your teeth bared like a wolf snarling.

Daemon found your discomfort rather amusing. You looked like a pretty doll all dressed up. Your hair braided into the style of the land you came from. The gown so unmistakably the colours of your house, shining in the light of the candles.

"Oh, no - you're a lady and you have to wear pretty dresses and jewels and oh no, how horrible!" He teased you lightly. He leaned his head on top of yours. A habit he adopted quite recently. Loving the way you fit under him.

You snorted, very un-ladylike. But he was used to your characteristics. You were not one of those up-tied, boring wenches who tried to turn his head. He would rather gauge his eyes out before he gave them a second of his attention.

His attention was only worthy of one woman. And she was right literally under his nose.

He leaned down, just next to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the sensitive shell. “Do you think it would fit?” You could feel the smirk in his voice. You turned to him with a confused look on your pretty face. It stayed that way until you felt something. You felt it, him. Hard as a rock, pocking you through the fabric of your wedding gown.

Your face grew hotter than the flames of Caraxes. Your body stiffened as you felt him softly rub against your buttocks. He only laughed lowly. His chest vibrates, sending chills up and down your spine. “You scoundrel!” You lowly scoffed. Your heart beating faster.

Not from his antics. Oh no, you were used to them by now. About the whole banquet finding out about Daemon’s little innuendo. “Oh, little love. I am your scoundrel now. It was ordered by the Queen herself.” He chuckled darkly.

She hit his shoulder lightly. “Stop it!” You tried to reprimand him. But your words fell on deaf ears. “Oh, my little love. How funny you will look with my seed growing inside you.” He began to whisper his lewd words. “You probably won’t be able to walk, so large your belly will grow.”

Your body grew hotter and hotter. It didn’t help that he had you pressed to his chest. His erection pressed against the cheeks of your perfect ass. His hands wander lazily over the front of your dress. Stopping over your belly before wandering further down.

“Oh my little love, will it even fit in your little tight hole? Or will I have to mould your little cunny so only my cock can fit inside?” Your breathing hitched at his dark, lustful words. Daemon’s predatory smile grew at your body's reaction to his scandalous words whispered so softly into your ear.

He often wondered if he was unfair to his wife. She was small, her body had nearly strained from the weight of the beautiful two children she had already given him.

He was right at their wedding feast. Her swollen stomach looked too large for her body. It hadn’t been long before the first signs of pregnancy made themselves known.

From the small bump only three moons after they conceived. He still can remember how his hands could cover it until she was seven moons pregnant. She had been ordered to rest. To not exhaust herself too much.

Daemon, looking at the image of her laying in their bed, their little one nestled in her belly. The sight did things to him. Things where his darkest desires seemed light in comparison. Oh, how he had spent his days behind her, driving himself into her tight cunt instead of sitting in a boring small council meeting. His wife and unborn child needed him, and he needed them.

“Another one?” You looked at him from where you stood. Children’s toys in your arms as you helped your daughters clean the room for the day.

Daemon just shrugged. “Why not? Add another one to our hoard. What about you girls? Do you want another sibling?” He crouched down so he was level with Alyssa and Visenya. Both girls looked away from their task to clean up the solar, screeching with joy as their father spoke to them.

“They are tots, Daemon.” You protested. Picking up more of the girls’ toys. “They will agree to anything if you say it with enough enthusiasm.” Daemon chuckled. “Oh, I think they know what I am saying, elillus (honey).” He smirks softly. His eyes roamed her body without shame.

“It has been so long.” “It has only been a few hours. You had me in the morrow.” You snapped back. Cleaning your daughters’ toys from the floor. Putting it into the chest designated for their toys. “I did not mean our coupling, prūmȳs ñuhus (my heart). I meant another child. The girls are six and four.” He mumbled gently.

She looked up at him sitting in the armchair at the edge of the carpet where the girls were playing moments ago. His violet eyes were dark as he watched her like the hunter his prey. “I don’t know, valzȳrys (husband). You heard the maester's words after Visenya’s birth.”

Daemon saw the change in demeanour. He nearly had you, only a small push. “It is your choice, ābrāzȳrys (wife). I do not want to force you.” He stood up, kissing your forehead before helping you with cleaning the toys up.

You were tossing and turning in bed. Nothing seemed right. Thoughts swirled through your head. So many voices at once.

You wanted to scream. But you would only wake up your family.

“Tell me what is keeping you from sleep, ābrāzȳrys (wife)” Daemon's gravel voice rang through the room. He sounded tired. His back turned to you.

“It’s nothing.” You whispered. “Bullshit!” Daemon groaned. Turning to face you. “It feels like I am sleeping next to a bloody sack of kittens. What is it.” He tiredly glared at her. Knowing full well what was going on.

“You’ve gotten into my head, you menace!” You growled out. Pouting at him. His usual smirk grew on his lips, a soft chuckle escaping. “Apologies for that, ābrāzȳrys (wife).“ „You are not sorry, Daemon.” His grin widened more. “You know me so well.”

A huff escaped your lips. “Why must you torment me so?” Daemon sat up on his forearm, looking down at you. Your hair was splayed out in a messy halo. A bright smile adorned his face as he saw the light, tired glare and the pout on your lips.

“Oh, little love, I vowed to be the bane of your existence since we played with the small dragon figurines our daughters’ play with now. And ever since it was announced you would be my dear lady wife I swore to torture you even more.” He softly nipped at your collarbone, his large hands coming to rest on your rips, just under your breasts.

“Let me help you with your decision-making. Let me enter your little cunny and stay there when I cum. Let my seed fill your womb once more.” His imposing frame loomed over you. Covering you like a blanket.

“What if the maester is right?” “The maesters are cunts who want to see me unhappy and you in doubt. They told you after Alyssa you could not carry another child. Two years later they said the same after Visenya.” He kissed your shoulder gently before his expressive violet eyes stared at you. “What is your body telling you?”

You bit your lip gently, A small rumble going through Daemon’s chest at your gesture. But he restrained himself. “I want another one.” You whispered gently.

A smile broke greater than before out on his lips, his dimples showing. “I will not let anything happen to you. The moment your body is resisting, I will get you moon tea or whatever is necessary.” You nodded gently.

His eyes darkened with lust. “Now before we can even discuss the pregnancy, we must make it happen.”

He lifted himself so his arms were on either side of your head. “Oh my sweet, I longed to fill up your little cunny. Seeing it overflow with my seed. Stuffing it back in.” He laughed gently as you shuddered.

With haste born of his pent-up desire, he ripped all of your clothes off your and his body. You gasped softly, scolding him for literally ripping your nightgown. “I never liked it anyway.” He mumbled against the skin between your breasts. Slowly moving down to your stomach.

He worshipped your body, caressing your thighs and hips. Squeezing the flesh around them, even gently nibbling on it.

He kissed each and every lightning-bold-like scar. Mumbling with every kiss a small thanks. These were the marks of his children. Evidence of your brave sacrifice.

He went further down. His lips ghosted over the soft locks, his eyes watching you heave out breaths of anticipation.

A loud scream ripped from your throat when you felt his tongue plunge deeply into your wet core. The eagerness of his lapping overwhelmed your senses. His nose ever so lightly brushed against your pearl. Teasing it to shoot lightning throughout your body.

You came undone. His tongue, nose and two of his digits working in tandem to torture you. And it worked. Your back arched off the bed. Loud cries of his name and pleas for him to stop accompanied your downward spiral into the abyss of your pleasure.

He stared down at you hungrily. His vibrant eyes were dark with lust. He looked every bit the dragon he ought to be. “Little rabbit.” He growled out. “Sweet, little rabbit. Trapped beneath the large dragon.”

He leaned down again. Like Caraxes would decent upon his pray, Daemon came down upon you. Devouring you once more.

He held your thighs wide open as he ploughed into you. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin rang through the room. His large hand wrapped around your delicate neck, softly pressing against it. Your breathing coming out in small pants.

“You should see yourself, little darling. My large hand is like a necklace on your throat. I can nearly wrap it around.” He chuckled darkly.

His words elicited shivers to run up and down your spine. This action causes your body to tense slightly. Daemon roared as he felt you squeeze his cock. “Seven fucking hells, woman! Do you want to kill me?!” He panted out. Driving his cock deeper inside you. The stretch is a familiar pain. But not too unpleasant. He had prepared you for him. And he would hate for you not to enjoy your coupling.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, sensual kiss. It was so different from the way his hips moved. So slow and loving. “I am not hurting you, am I, my little darling?” He whispered. You shook your head. “Nothing I am not used to from you.” He grinned, nipping at your lower lip, “That’s my good girl.” He whispered.

He picked up his pace. His hands on your thighs clawing into your skin. His knuckles are white. He groaned and grunted, looking down at you with an intense stare. Your own moans and cries mingle with his. Creating a symphony of pleasure.

He came with a roar of your name, his face buried into your neck. Panting heavily next to your ear. Your own climax is triggered by the feeling of being filled with his potent seed. Both your eyes closed in bliss.

He stayed inside you even as his member softened inside you. The grip on your thigh remains tight. Like he needed to be grounded by you.

Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck, softly caressing his head. He hummed gently, letting you know he loved what you were doing. “Do not dare to stop.” He mumbled gently into your neck. You continued with your caress. Softly petting him like he was a dog.

He fell asleep like this. His spent cock inside you, keeping his precious seed inside you. His body acted like a blanket. Your hand in his hair.

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#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryan #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic

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jenchan-writingmultis · 8 months ago

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Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanon/s

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A/n: I genuinely couldn’t resist. I’m sorry. This is also my first time writing headcanons that are NSFW! I hope you like it! And I based Sylus on that anonymous man that Rafayel was talking to, while it’s definitely inaccurate, I didn’t know where to base him from aside from the leaked trailer, I hope you like this one!

Masterlist

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Warning: NSFW Up ahead! This is for 18+ readers. Stockholm Syndrome, TOXIC! Obsessive love, unhealthy relationship. Degradation

Tell me if I left a warning out, I’ll update this immediately.

Credits: The line dividers are from Kaomoji; the art is from Love and Deepspace ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SFW: ✧ He’s the kind of person who won't hold back. After you were handed to him like a free meal, he decided that whatever you discussed with Xavier and Rafayel would fail, and he’d ensure it. Even if the plan was to infiltrate Onychinus, he would absolutely make sure it failed.

✧ When Rafayel handed you over to him, he was so elated that he ordered his men to take you to his home as soon as you were drugged, where you’ll be kept trapped. Unlike the other male leads, he isn't upfront but rather lurks in the shadows, stalking your every move.

✧ Even though he acknowledges your capability and doesn’t see you as a weakling, he will ensure you remain completely obedient to him. If you try to escape, he will isolate you further, providing only food and water to keep you alive. In his view, isolation is the most effective method of punishment, especially if it means breaking your spirit to force your obedience.

✧ He despises you. He hates how you make him feel like he's dependent on your presence, while you, on the other hand, don’t even know him, to himself, you were his whole world. Sylus won’t tell you how easy it is for you to have him under your thumb.

✧ You may hate him for your own reasons, and he can see it in your eyes. Yes, he might have been responsible for the explosion that took your childhood friend and grandmother, but it wasn’t entirely intentional. He didn’t expect you to come home so early that day; it was a miscalculation on his part. He won’t tell you that though, he likes seeing you so focused on him with an emotion you would never feel for the other men in your life. The hatred fuels him.

✧ Now while he’s lenient with you growling and squirming like a mutt, if you try to bite and hurt him back, he’s going to make sure to put a collar around your neck, you’re being a bad pet. He’ll make sure that you drop that disobedience before he’s forced to make it leak out of you instead.

✧ If you start to relax, or simply get tired of trying to escape, he will reward you by letting you go out with him. However, if you try to speak or ask for help, the collar around your neck will inject you with drugs that will turn your brain to mush, ensuring you won’t betray him in public. Not that anyone would dare to save you; he’s confident a few people recognize him.

✧ Oh, don’t take him as someone reckless though, he takes extra measures to prevent you from acting out. Once he implements those safety measures, he’ll be happy to buy you outfits that fit his aesthetic, or anything you’d like really. Sometimes he’ll be nice to you, only sometimes.

✧ I think it’s obvious how he shows his hatred and love for you in these headcanons, he’s going to make sure to tear down that confidence you have, he’ll break you. One of his methods would be to have you be eaten by guilt till you start blaming yourself instead of him. He’s good with his words, he wouldn’t be gaining such loyal followers without it. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

NSFW:

✧ BRAT TAMER TO THE FULLEST, he wouldn’t let you act out at all, if you tried, he’s gonna have you bent over the wall while he smacks your ass, making sure his handprint stays marked there. Till you can’t sit down comfortably, actually he won’t even let you test if you can sit down properly, cause he’ll have you sitting on his lap, it can be during a meeting with his trusted companions, imagine a console table with almost 10 people along with him in front, while people are discussing their plans, you can’t even hear it properly cause of how deep his fingers are pumping in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit. If you let out a yelp he'd chuckle before nipping on your ear.

“Quiet, you’re distracting them” he’d murmur while squeezing your waist as a warning.

✧ While he gives off a vibe of being a dominant top if you want to ride him, he’ll let you, however with the condition that you make him cum before you do, which fails! Cause he has a pretty good endurance, you poor girl. Once he wins, he’ll flip you down, pinning your arms up while spreading your legs further, hand pressing on your soft tummy.

“Can’t even ride properly huh? You want me to do all the work pretty girl?"

✧ HATE SEX is one of his favorites, once you get the privilege to go out, if he ever sees you try to speak to another man aside from the bodyguards, he sent to watch over you while he’s busy, he’s going to use that as a reason to leave multiple marks on your body, specifically your neck. You can’t even hide it, along with the bite marks on your thighs. Oh right, not like anyone can see it, you’re forbidden from going out till he milks you of every orgasm he can pull out of you for the next few days.

✧ The type to finger you while you’re in public, if you’re wearing something short, like a skirt, he’ll lift it up, sliding his hand underneath your panty before fingering you. Make sure you don't make too much noise now, or people will notice, slut.

✧ He’s messy, the type to eat you out like a man starved, watch him suck on your clit while he pushes his fingers on your sweet spot, he had his arms wrapped around your thighs just so you don’t try to run away from his skillful tongue, the type of man to make you squirt and once he does he gets drunks over your taste, pulling away a bit just to look at you,

“One more, I know you can take it” he’d say before giving your puffy clit a kiss."

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #lads sylus #sylus smut #i'm in love with him please help #l&ds x reader #l&ds

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deathsmallcaps · 10 months ago

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Ok when I reblogged this last night, I picked 3rd because that’s what I’ve heard, but I also said maybe a little bit #4? Because at the time I thought ‘well something not really mattering to you = a sort of rejection” so I was a little confused as to how they were separate options?

And then when I woke up and I saw this I remembered that the ‘rejection’ idea was an antisemitic talking point. As in supposedly you saw the undeniable truth of Jesus and were like nah.

So I’m not sure how else it could’ve been worded - it was quickly visible to me after a good night’s sleep - but I wonder how many other people were thinking similarly to me when they picked #4, and how many are genuinely antisemitic. But I hope there’s just a lot of confused people.

#culturally Christian #I’m kind of agnostic but I do swear pretty religiously and kind of believe in Jesus and such just sort of out a habit. like if something #more convincing comes along I’ll go with that but currently I just have trouble with the idea the universe started spontaneously #I imagine more that there’s a higher figure and he’s been running experiments on an infinite amount of universe #like multiverse theory where every little decision splits the timeline etc #and occasionally he throws in stimulae like prophecies or small bits of him so that he can see what will happen #if something good happens to #me that I had no control over #like a free parking space or meeting a dog by chance #I send a kiss up to him just because I kind of want my thanks distributed but I don’t know to who? so I figure if he’s an honest guy #he’ll do other people favors too #also every time I see a dead animal on the side of the road I send it a kiss because i fervently wish that they died instantly and are #up in heaven and never have to worry about anything again #but otherwise yeah #my family stopped going to church when I was 4 #I just remember liking to play with the holy water you were supposed to put on your forehead #and also the church had a really nice low stone wall that I liked to hold onto my mom or dad’s hands as I walked along the top #they’re divorced (not the catalyst to lack of church) so it was always either one or the other #my grandmother gave me a children’s bible and we still celebrate Christmas #so I know a lot of stories from #the kids bible I was given had a lot of bible stories in it and i enjoyed reading it but it felt like an anthology/book of fairy tales to me #more than anything. and ofc when I was little I heard lots of Christmas star #stories both secular and religious. I avoid Christmas media mostly as an adult because it’s so overblown but I figure I’ll share it with my #kids. my favorite Christmas movie of all time is about a cow who wants to become one of Santa’s reindeer and fly. it’s called #Annabelle’s wish it’s pretty cute. I think it falls under a secular Xmas movie but I haven’t watched it in a bit #we also celebrate Easter but I think that’s more because my mom really likes compiling the baskets of candy and spring themed stuff #and of course the Christian channels were always free whenever my family couldn’t afford ‘better’ tv. I enjoyed them but preferred pbs kids #because they were less preachy about their morals and I was more familiar with them.#oh also when I make I wish I address it to god out of habit.#about to run out of rags but whatever. my favorite religious swear that definitely pisses people off is ‘Jesus Christ on a pogo stick’

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beensbaee · 7 months ago

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𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

summary; neteyam helps his favorite girl out after she gets sick.

word count! 2.4k

SICKENINGLY SWEET.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You never missed breakfast.

It was your favorite meal of the day - the time where you and Neteyam would finally see each other after the night had kept you apart from your yawne. Beloved.

During breakfasts, he’d pick the freshest fruits from his bowl and place them into yours - piling and piling the delicious treats on your plate and insisting you deserved to eat only the best. Of course you would share with him - the two of you feeding each other while Lo’ak would gag dramatically at the romantic gesture.

Neteyam had been waiting patiently for you, sitting with his empty bowl in front of him and an already assembled plate - which was overflowing with delicious fruits - placed next to him and meant for you.

The first few minutes of your initial absence were nothing concerning - you were usually always a little late. Your tardiness always gave him a laugh. He’d watch you stumble in between na’vi’s who were already seated - flustered and apologizing every time for passing through with an embarrassed smile on your face as you made your way to him.

When the clan began eating, he told himself you were just running a little more late than usual. Neytiri nudged him, asking him why he was not eating. He only smiled, fingers running over the bracelet on his wrist which you’d gifted him as he explained he wouldn’t eat until you arrived.

Jake gave his eldest son a toothy grin at his words - while Lo’ak groaned

“Seriously? You refuse to eat? She’s not gonna die if you take a bite, you know.” Lo’ak insisted, inspecting the tower of food on your plate with clear jealousy as Neteyam carefully moved it away from his brother - already anticipating Lo’ak wouldn’t even hesitate to snatch a fruit from your plate.

“Yes, I know. But I’ll eat when she comes. Jealous she has more food than you, baby bro?” Neteyam teased as Lo’ak rolled his eyes

“You know she’d share them all with me if I just asked her.” Lo’ak threw back as Neteyam grinned

“Yes. I know that.” He said, a smile on his face as Lo’ak resumed his meal, ranting on about how he’d never hold off his meal for anyone.

But Neteyam’s worriedness only grew as he didn’t hear the usual ruckus of your late arrival - his eyes searched the rows of peacefully eating na’vi and he didn’t see you at all. He also quickly realized your mother had also not come.

“Mother, I am going to check on Y/n. She and her mother are not here - may I eat with her, wherever she may be?” Neteyam quickly asked as Neytiri nodded her head with a frown

“I hope she is all right - make sure you take enough food for all of you to eat!” Neytiri called out after Neteyam as he quickly picked up your plate - bidding his family goodbye as his feet found the familiar path towards your home.

His brows were furrowed as he stood outside your sleeping area, seeing your mother and his Grandmother talking quietly

“Poor girl.” He heard your mother whisper as he slowly approached the pair with furrowed brows

“Auntie - Grandmother, Oel ngati kameie.” He spoke, his eyes worried as your mother sent the boy a sad smile

“Oel ngati kameie Neteyam. She is sick, my boy.” Your mother whispered, her quiet voice clearly indicating you were resting inside as Neteyam’s ears fell

“Sick? Y/n is sick?” He quickly asked as his Grandmother hushed him, handing Neteyam a small bottle as she turned to him with a strict gaze

“She won’t take the medicine - I have no idea why. That girl is stubborn, one of her only flaws. Do you think you can make her take it?” His Grandmother asked with urgency present in her voice as your mother gently took your fruit plate from Neteyam, giving his cheek a quick kiss before taking it inside. He smiled at her before turning back to his Grandmother with a nod

“Yes of course. She will take it.” He answered dutifully, knowing just how stubborn you could be at times. He loved everything about you - to him, you had no flaws. He did not see it as stubbornness, but determination.

“Good. Make sure she drinks the entire thing, every drop. It is necessary for her recovery. You care about her, right?” His grandmother asked as Neteyam immediately nodded his head

“Good. Now, go on.” She said, opening the flap and letting Neteyam go inside while she left, no doubt following your mother wherever she went.

You laid in your hammock, tracing the designs on the fabric mindlessly with your back towards him. He approached you slowly, his gentle hands moving forward to rest on your back

You turned at the touch of his hands - eyes confused and sleepy until you recognized the familiar boy - your yawne.

“Oh Neteyam! I missed you dearly.” You breathed out, your voice hoarse as Neteyam reached to cradle your face in his hands. He saw how tired you were and frowned

“My sweet girl, how did you get so sick? Y/n, you were fine last night.” Neteyam insisted, his voice concerned as he helped you sit up after seeing you try and fail with how tired you were.

“I am fine - just a little tired. And my throat.” You groaned, laying back down almost immediately after he helped you sit up with your arms outstretched above your head. Neteyam moved forward to feel your forehead before he let out a long sigh

“Your forehead is burning, tiyawn. Did you sleep well last night?” He questioned with a soft voice as he knelt beside your hammock, your medicine placed on the ground and out of your view as you let out a huff of breath.

“Yes! I was perfectly fine until this morning! I woke up with my head hurting and my feet aching.” You cried out as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, hands immediately moving to massage your feet after the words left your mouth

“My poor girl.” He said, his tone was teasing - you could easily hear the playful undertone. But you still curled towards him, relaxing as his hands released the pent up tension in your feet.

“Mmm. You know you’re the best, right?” You said as you closed your eyes. You felt his hands falter at your statement, and you peeked an eye open to look at him. He continued massaging, but he was frowning now.

“You won’t like me much in a little bit.” He said with a weak chuckle as you tilted your head in confusion

“Y/n, I know you won’t take the medicine. My Grandmother asked me to -”

“No!”

Your voice was hoarse as you yelled out, and Neteyam quickly put his hands up in surrender

“Easy, easy yawne. Lay back down.” He said gently as you crossed your arms over your chest firmly

“Neteyam, please. I do not want to take it.” You murmured as you rubbed your eyes. He clicked his tongue - showing his disappointment in your words as you turned to him with a knowing look.

“You wanna tell me why you’re so set on never taking this?” He questioned with a raised brow while holding the small bottle in the air, swishing it around as the green liquid moved inside

“I…I can’t tell you.” You stated, your voice quiet now as Neteyam clasped your hand comfortingly

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/n.” He spoke. His tone so calm after your outburst - so sincere that you felt yourself caving in from his sweet tactics

“Ok, ok. I am…afraid?” You said hesitantly, your words sounding more like a question than the intended statement as Neteyam’s eyes quickly widened

“No no, I know that look! You want to laugh!” You accused, pointing at him as he shook his head with a smile

“Why would I laugh at such a genuine fear?” He said whilst laughing. You felt your cheeks heat up as you huffed, crossing your arms and slumping in your hammock

“I’m sorry, so sorry alright? Now, tell me why you’re afraid.” He apologized, moving closer to you as his laughter subsided

After rolling your eyes, you decided there’s no need to hide why at all

“It smells funky.” You confess as his smile only widened

“Funky?”

“Yes. Disturbingly.”

The way you said it was so serious - like the medicine should genuinely be investigated, and it had him laughing all over again

“Oh I am so glad my sickness is so funny to you Neteyam!” You exclaimed as he quickly shook his head, struggling to wipe the smile off his face

“Y/n, listen. My Grandmother adores you, you think she didn’t pick the strongest and most effective cure for your sickness?” He asked as he searched your eyes, seeing your once positive demeanor fall as you realized the Tsahìk would never give you a bad medicine.

Your initial thoughts was that it had rotted when you’d first smelt the absolutely horrible thing, but you realized how silly that even sounded. The Tsahìk probably made it fresh just for you.

You thought for a bit, sitting in silence before you let out a sigh that had Neteyam’s ears perking up.

“Fine, I will drink it.” You said, looking at the medicine with hesitation as Neteyam placed a kiss on your cheek

“There’s my girl. Open up.” He said while you carefully opened your mouth for him. He untwisted the cap on the bottle, carefully tipping it into your mouth as you swallowed the distasteful thing with a strangled gasp

After drinking the entire thing - every drop - he gave you the leaf holding water beside your hammock to wash down the after taste

You were still coughing, and he gently patted your back to help you - his encouraging words never stopping as he told you how good you were

“So brave, that medicine had me shaking too, you know?” He said laughing as you joined in with him, unable to hold in your giggles as his tail swayed at the sound

“Now, push over.” He said with a playful gleam in his eyes

After talking for what seemed hours and the two of you eating all the fruits he’d brought - sleep eventually took over.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You’d slept the whole day - and when you awoke, eclipse was nearing.

Your eyes widened as you realized the entire day had gone by while you were resting, and a sigh of disappointment left your lips as you realized you’d be unable to spend the rest of your day with Neteyam - as the two of you only separated at night to go to your respective sleeping quarters with your own families.

He must have left after you fell asleep to give you any more space you might’ve needed - and as much as you loved his generous heart, you wished he’d been selfish and stayed.

The medicine must have made you so tired, because it was only minutes later before you were asleep again.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He awoke with his head burning and feet aching.

He groaned as he sat up, the light outside indicating it was midday by now.

He felt a soft hand on his chest lightly push him to lay back down, and he felt his heart leap at the sight of you

“Y/n?” He breathed out as you smiled sadly

“I got you sick - if you hate me, I can leave.” You whispered, and he sighed with pure relief as he realized you were better - your once tired eyes had regained their lively shine and the fact made him relax. He’d gone to sleep the night before tossing and turning - not knowing if your condition was better or if it had worsened - only contributing more to his lack of sleep and worsening his sickness

“Hate you? Never.” He said weakly with a breathless laugh that had you rolling your eyes and your arms reaching out to envelop him in a hug

“I am so sorry, Neteyam. It is my fault entirely. But I know just how to make you feel better!” You exclaimed, quickling looking into the pouch that Mo’at had given you as a pleased gasp left your lips

“Ta-da!” You singsonged as you held up the oh too familiar bottle

He let out a groan at the sight that had you laughing

“Can’t believe I’m the one taking it now.” He grumbled. Though his voice was entirely grumpy, there was a smile on his face as you opened the bottle

“There’s my boy. Open up.” You teased, throwing his words back to him as his lips parted in an instant for you.

You tipped the medicine into his mouth as he drank it all, a dribble of it trickling it down his chin as you wiped it away with a laugh

He was coughing moments later from the after taste - and like a good partner, you had water prepared and ready for him - and he drank it gratefully

Neytiri approached Neteyam’s hammock with the intention of simply checking in on him - but her steps slowed once she saw you kneeling beside him as the two of you spoke quietly

She watched with a secretive smile - the way you cradled Neteyam’s face as you peppered kisses all over him was simply adorable. She knew you’d have a heart attack if you knew she saw you kissing her son - so she began to leave, a smile on her face as she left the two of you alone.

After a lot of convincing, Neteyam let you lay with him in his hammock. You’d told him how the medicine the Tsahìk had given you would make sure you didn’t get sick again for the next few weeks - and he hesitantly placed his arms around you with a sigh - worried he’d get you sick.

“You’re so warm.” You mumbled against his skin as he merely chuckled, nuzzling his face into your scalp as he sighed

“Pretty sure that is because I’m sick.” He replied and you pretended to be grossed out

“Yuck!” You said laughing as you placed a kiss on his nose - one that had him blushing and hiding his face in the crook of your neck

It didn’t take even an hour more until the two of you were snoring away - your arms wrapped around each other as you slept safe and sound in one anothers embrace.

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stcrmade-illusions · 2 months ago

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uhhh…is love and deepspace bringing me out of my inactive era / writers block?? This is probably ooc since I just started playing the game and I haven’t written anything in a while soooo…yeah. Just bare with me :)

boyfriend!sylus x blk fem!reader

minors, ageless, haters/harassers dni!!

boyfriend!sylus who absolutely loves every hairstyle you wear but he makes it very clear that he loves your natural hair the most. he loves the entire process of helping you with your hair, from taking it down, to detangling washing and blowdrying. He’ll just sit next to you to hand you whatever you need. Ponytail holders, pins, gel, brushes etc. When you’re finished styling it, he always has a small grin on his face. He pulls you to his chest, biting softly at your cheek and mumbling a low “beautiful” in your ear.

boyfriend!sylus who currently has you bouncing on his thick cock right after you just got a silk press! the car windows are foggy and you’re already sweating. “sy - sylus, i just got my fucking hair done!” you whine, partly because you really wanted your hair pressed for the weekend activities you had planned and partly because your deranged boyfriend is drilling inside your pussy like there’s no tomorrow. he grabs your chin and mutters a “sorry, kitten. It couldn’t be helped.” before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, effectively making you forget how pissed off you are.

boyfriend!sylus who starts making his chefs incorporate some of your favorite meals into their meals. he notices how there’s certain things you don’t particularly like and remembers you babbling about some of the meals your grandmother used to make you before her unfortunate passing.

boyfriend!sylus who sees you wearing a bonnet for the first time since you’ve started dating. he tilts his head in confusion and you can’t help but think he looks like a really cute puppy. you explain what it is and why you wear it, when you’re done he just nods his head and places a kiss on your forehead. the following weekend, there’s a box delivered with bonnets of all sizes and colors.

boyfriend!sylus who sees you taking pictures during golden hour and he just lays on the bed admiring how good you look.

boyfriend!sylus who wastes no time in beating the shit out of a man who made a very disgusting and cruel comment about you and ‘your kind’. Sometimes his violent behavior startles you and other times it makes you want to ride him from dusk to dawn.

boyfriend!sylus who’s helping you pick out a dress to wear for your dinner date. “which one? black or burgundy?” you hold up both dresses so he can take a closer look, after a few moments of silence he hums. ruby eyes flick over to the bed to look at all other dresses you pulled out, he clicks his tongue “what about the gold one?”

you scrunch your nose. “but your tie?” he huffs. “don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll change it.” he’s already reaching to towards his neck when you speak again. “you sure?” he takes a step closer and leans down so you’re eye to eye. “yes, love. I love this color on you, wear this one.” He picks up the dress and hands it to you, gently pushing you towards the bathroom.

boyfriend!sylus who will never admit it out loud but he hates being away from you too long. he needs you around him and in his space at all times or he starts getting grumpier than usual. whenever he’s stressed or pissed off, he seeks you out and plops you in his lap so he can kiss you and play with your hair. He might even use your boobs at stress balls but you tease him about it sometimes but he just huffs and ignores you.

boyfriend!sylus who has your legs thrown over his shoulders while he takes his time teasing you with his hot velvety tongue and long, thick fingers. he’s had you wound up so long that you can’t even remember how much time has passed. “sy…please. I need it.” a low hum comes from his chest, it vibrates through your whole body. his eyes flutter open and lock onto yours immediately. “do you honestly think you deserve it? after being a brat the whole day?”

when you don’t respond, three thick fingers sink back into your cunt, making your body arch. “answer me, kitten.” except you can’t answer him and he knows you can’t because he’s curling his fingers inside you, pressing against that spot and god you’re so close. So fucking close! Just a few more thrusts and — “no!” your voice comes out weak and betrayed, you can feel the tears start to well. His fingers slow then come to a complete stop.

a soft kiss is placed on your thigh, followed by a sharp bite. “you know I don’t reward bad behavior, be a good girl and I’ll give you want you really want.”

— 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺 𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑫 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑩𝒀𝑯𝑨𝒀𝑫𝑬𝑵! 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑶 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑷𝒀, 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑳 𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑹𝑬𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝒀 𝑰𝑭 𝑴𝒀 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑺!! dividers from @cafekitsune

#love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads sylus #blk reader #black reader #sylus x black reader #black writers #support black creatives #lnds sylus #lnds #𝒉𝒂𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈…🖊️

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hanafubukki · 6 months ago

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“Papa will you come back tomorrow?”

The innocently spoken words felt as if a thousand thorns struck Lilia.

Malleus climbed onto his bed; unaware of the turmoil his words had brought forth.

Papa.

Lilia took a shuddering breath in.

Papa.

Lilia clenched his fists.

Malleus couldn’t call him by such a title.

It wouldn’t be allowed.

“Malleus,” Lilia kneels in front of the little prince, “You can’t call me that.”

Malleus’ lips trembled, brows furrowed, “Why not? Papas are ones who takes care of and raises children.”

Lilia closed his eyes, he had to control his emotions; before holding the tiny hands clenching his clothes.

When had these hands grown? So small were they when he first hatched.

“My Prince, I am not your father.”

Meleanor and Levan, surely, they would laugh at his predicament.

But the Senate-

If the Senate found out, he would be barred from seeing Malleus.

He would never be able to see him again.

“But pa-”

“No.”

Lilia forced his voice to steady through the bitter gravel and yearning in his throat.

Every teardrop causing a fissure in his heart.

“I am just Lilia to you. I’ll only ever be your caretaker.”

Lilia straightens up, trying to ignore the shaking form of his princeling. Resisting taking him into his arms and soothing him as he had done many times before.

“Have a good sleep, My Prince.”

Lilia tries to ignore the sobs from behind.

“Papa come back!” Malleus wailed.

Lilia closed the door behind him.

Breaths coming out shallow, body heavy with grief.

Tears gather while teeth grit.

I’m sorry, my s—Malleus.

Lilia walks down the dark hallways, trudging forth.

Fragments of his heart left behind with each step he takes in tandem with the echoing sobs heightened by stone walls.

“Papa! Please! Don’t leave me!”

…yeah, I teared up a bit while writing this 😭💔 at least I didn’t kill off malleus this time…I’m sorry.

Do you ever think about how Malleus might have called Lilia “papa” or any other fatherly term when he was young as all children do? To the parents they love?

(Under the cut because I have a lot of thoughts and feels)

Do you ever think about how Lilia would have been so happy to have been called that by him? But he couldn’t? Not only because of the memories of Meleanor and Levan (in fact, I think they would laugh at the situation and tell Malleus to do it more if they were alive just for Lilia’s reactions lol), but because of the Senate?

Because the Senate would never approve. And if Malleus called him such a loving term, they would ban Lilia from visiting even the few times he could or snuck into the castle for Malleus.

Even if you take into consideration of Lilia hiding the circumstance of Malleus’ birth so he doesn’t feel guilty, do you ever wonder why? Or what led to it? The senate already tampered with history and how Malleus was born and they tried to control Malleus even now (they didn’t like him coming to NRC, all the guards he had, Malleus having to sneak away, etc)

I can see them isolating Malleus from Lilia if he ever uttered such a term in front of them. Then, Malleus would have no one left but his grandmother who he rarely sees as is.

Do you ever think about how Malleus tried to call Lilia a fatherly term but he couldn’t. Whether because Lilia said it, someone else did, or he stopped himself?

And how that yearning affected them both? Hurt them? In this case, how if Lilia stopped him, Malleus never tries again?

Not only because of the rejection, but because he doesn’t want to lose Lilia? He doesn’t want to be alone again? How Malleus is more polite and subdued the next time Lilia comes?

And Lilia knows? But this is how it has to be? Despite his bleeding heart? And the pain he caused them both? Because at least this way, he can still visit? Do you ever wonder if this is why Lilia tried even harder for the treaty? For Malleus to have freedom?

And…do you ever wonder Malleus’ reaction to Silver calling Lilia “toto” and then later “father”? Ever wonder, if this is the reason why “Malleus was jealous of an acorn bracelet”? Because Malleus couldn’t do, give, or say to Lilia what he always wanted?

Ever think about how this could be why he refers to Silver as “Lilia’s son” or Silver being a child but never himself? How he buries his feelings even now hearing “caretaker” versus “father”? Because of such situations in the past or what led to it?

Because I do, and damnit, I’m crying thinking about it. 😭😔

Also little storytelling bits I like to add as an emphasis:

“Malleus -> My Prince”

To add that little bit of extra angst, that bit of boundary placed and rejection. 😔�� OTL

How even speaking the words “my son” mentally might cause him to slip, and yet, he still calls him Malleus and not My Prince.

#this one…this one hit me deeply 😭💔#lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #diasomnia #twst #twst platonic #Disney twisted wonderland #Disney twst #twst malleus #twst lilia #twst lilia vanrouge #twst malleus draconia #twst angst #twst drabbles #twst scenarios #twst hurt no comfort

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kaija-rayne-author · 11 days ago

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Do whatever you want, believe whatever you want. And using Veilguard as any sort of source for anything remotely related to canon Lore is just ridiculous. It's so... awful, IMHO, to use it to defend any sort of point.

I'm not certain if this would be considered critical, so I'll put it under a cut. Potentially critical of Veilguard.

Though I'm really just talking about the Lore.

I point out 4 massive retcons in Veilguard that blew my mind and that I see people commonly using as arguing points. And yes, if someone wants to pay me for the time, I can prove all of it with sources.

What little canon Lore they actually used in Veilguard? They twisted beyond recognition.

Just a few examples.

1. The blight is NOT, in fact, (or even in Veilguard) 'everywhere in the Fade'. It has always been contained to the Black City, that floats disconnected from everything else in the Fade. It's why the previously golden city is black ffs! Even in Veilguard, it's really damned obvious that the Fade isn't full of blight. We hop in and out of the Fade throughout the whole damned game like it's a shopping mall.

2. The Fade is not full of demons. Demons are spirits (people) of emotion. What usually twists them into demons is coming through the veil! The only reason there was the big demon in DAI is because it was attached to Coryphyfish. There's probably some, but it's an arguable point that an emotion spirit of, say, anger, or spite is actually a demon. Emotions aren't bad. They wouldn't automatically be demons simply because they reflect a negative emotion.

3. The veil has been canonically choking the life and magic out of Thedas for thousands of years. If the veil didn't come down, there would be no Thedas. This is clearly spelled out in canon. The veil was never meant to be part of the world. At the end of Trespasser, the veil is as holey as my grandmother's doilies. It's not as they tried to depict it in Veilguard, a firm, whole wall holding hordes of demons and the blight of blights back. That's such a bullshit retcon, and I make weird faces every time I try to figure out the mental gymnastics necessary for someone to come up with that idea.

4. It's also a massive retcon that Solas lies. (Sigh. Yes. It really is. No matter what you believe.) He canonically does not. They rewrote his character for DAI so that he doesn't lie because it weakened the character. He was originally written as much more similar to Blackwall. They decided it weakened Solas as a character and made sure he doesn't lie. He obfuscates, misleads, doesn't answer, and is really good at letting people make assumptions or even leading people to make assumptions. Because that is what a Trickster does! But in all of DAI and Trespasser, he does not lie except once. At the Winter Palace when you ask him where he got the experience of court. No. A 'lie of omission' is not a lie by the definition or philosophical understanding of what a lie is. You, as the player, not paying close attention to what he says doesn’t mean he lies either! He is not the 'god of lies'. That's Epler's hate shining through. Throughout 3 games, many dlcs, books, comics, short stories, the Dread Wolf is known as the Trickster. The god of rebellion and sometimes the god of betrayal. He is never once referred to as the god of lies in anything pre-veilguard. It's. Bullshit.

And Solas is an absolutely terrible liar. He stumbles all over himself trying to do it in the winter palace. It's hilarious tbh.

There were more retcons. But I need to go help with dinner.

Just, even if you liked Veilguard, don't use it as a defense in any sort of discussion of Lore. Perhaps listen to us Lore fiends, instead? Because they shat all over the Lore for Veilguard.

Real talk? It makes you look ignorant to anyone who actually has been paying attention to the Lore.

FWIW? I'm not in the best of moods right now. Please think twice, then a third time before responding/reblogging in disagreement. (Unless you're polite and actually have sources I haven't seen. I'm usually willing to have polite discussions or answer questions. I'm also willing to stand corrected if people actually can prove me wrong with sources attached. A 'nuhn unh, Solas lies cause I believe he does', won't get you far with me.) Nor will using anything from DAV to support an argument. I've relegated DAV to the graveyard of not-canon because of the complete disrespect of the Lore.

And I'll just laugh at you if you try to attack me. Internet randos filling my responses with shit doesn't phase me, bother me in the slightest, or make me upset. I find it incredibly, laugh out loud amusing because I've lived through so much more than that in my life.

#dragon age #solas #solavellan #dragon age inquisition #dragon age veilguard #veilguard #da veilguard #dragonage #bioware critical

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traveler-at-heart · 2 months ago

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Doctor's In - Holiday Special

Summary: You get ready for your first Christmas with the Maximoffs.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

A/N: So we'll have a mini special consisting of three small chapters for the holidays. This is mainly because the tone for each one will be kind of different and I didn't know how to put it all in one long chapter. If I'm on schedule, part 2 will be posted next week and part 3 the week of Christmas.

Enjoy!

It looks like a group of Santa’s helpers vandalized the place.

You return from Thanksgiving break to find that the hospital halls are adorned with candy canes, wreaths and other typical Christmas ornaments.

“Good morning” you greet Darcy and Kamala as you join them in the break room.

“What’s good about swimming in Santa’s vomit?” Darcy mutters.

“For an elf, you’re very grumpy about this time of year”

“I’m not an elf!”

“That’s exactly what an elf that works for Santa would say” you tsk, showing her the cookies Wanda sent her. “She said you had to share with me”

You sit in silence, eating and looking at your phone until she speaks again.

“I have to go back home for the holidays, they think this year Nana will kick the bucket for real”

“RIP Nana” you whistle, knowing Darcy isn’t particularly fond of her conservative, holier than thou grandmother.

“Remember when she called you a demonic lesbian?”

“You know what? Not my worst Christmas”

Kamala, who up until this point was sitting in silence, chokes on her drink, looking horrified.

“What’s up with her?” Darcy asks.

“Kamala has a very nice, loving family” you say with a grave voice, as if it was a dark secret.

Darcy and you get paged at the same time, continuing the conversation down the hall.

“Though I’m not happy about going back home, I’m glad you have an actual place to spend the holidays this year” your friend says, and you smile.

From previous years, you remembered Wanda’s house going all out with Christmas decorations. She’d also knock on your door to leave an apple pie and wish you happy holidays.

“Yeah, I think the Maximoffs have a ton of traditions I need to catch up with”

“Does she know?” Darcy says, and you shake your head no.

“You know it’s the same for me. I don’t think it’s important at all” you shrug your shoulders.

“I think Wanda would like to know. Make it extra special for you” Darcy says and you know she’s right.

“I’ll think about it”

—

Turns out, Wanda was ready to decorate everything, but decided to wait until the weekend so you could help her and the kids.

And by help her, she meant have you carry the heaviest boxes.

“Is that all of it?” you say, going down the stairs with a box with lights.

“Yes, I think so” Wanda goes over everything you have unpacked already. Decorations for the porch, wreath, lights, the Santa Claus that goes in the chimney and the reindeer for the front lawn.

“I never realised how much stuff you put up each year” you comment, scratching the back of your neck. It’s a little overwhelming.

“Sweetheart, I used to do it by myself every year, I promise with your help it will be twice as fast”

“And can I get a reward for helping?” you say, pulling her against you. She smiles, holding on to your forearms as you kiss her cheek and down her neck.

“We have our letters ready!” the kids say, going down the steps.

“Well, let’s set up the tree so Santa has a place to put all your presents then” Wanda says.

There’s the usual Christmas music, and you hum along to all of the songs that you know by heart.

“Someone’s finally getting into the holiday spirit” Wanda comments with a smile.

“The music is catchy, that’s all”

But still, you enjoy decorating the tree, noticing how Wanda quietly goes over the section that Billy and Tommy are doing, fixing everything so it looks better.

“I say we did a good job” Wanda approves when it’s all done, hands on her hips. “We’re only missing the star”

“Y/N can do it this year!” Billy says and you grimace.

“Oh, it’s fine, I’m sure I’ll mess it up”

“I’ll help you” Tommy insists, and Wanda nudges you. Well, you can’t say no to that.

With a sigh, you step forward, letting Tommy guide you.

“Does that look ok?” you say, not knowing if that is how it’s supposed to look.

“Perfect” Wanda assures you, her hand on your back as you climb down the small ladder.

“Can we have hot cocoa now?”

“Yes, and then we’ll decorate the porch”

The kids talk excitedly over each other, discussing the gifts they asked Santa. You follow the conversation, knowing there’s a huge pile of presents hidden inside your closet as you started shopping for the twins a few weeks ago.

“What’s on your list, Y/N?”

“Oh, nothing really. I have everything I need” you smile at Tommy, and it’s true.

“But we need to get you a present! There’s gotta be something you want”

“I’ll think about it, I promise. Should I address my request to you or Mr. Claus?”

“Aren’t you too old to ask Santa for stuff?” Billy intervenes, making Wanda laugh.

“You know what, I kinda am” you say, smiling.

The conversation keeps going for a bit, until Wanda decides it’s time to get back to work.

This time, it’s you who climbs up and places all the lights and ornaments she wants. You’re going back and forth, Wanda constantly asking you to go “a little bit to the right… no, to the left. You know what, it was better the other way” until you’re covered in sweat, muscles aching from all the effort.

Still, once you’re done with everything it looks pretty damn impressive.

“So what movie are we watching tonight?”

“Let’s take a look at the list” Wanda says, hoping you actually wrote down some suggestions. “Nightmare before Christmas is not a holiday movie” she challenges you as soon as she reads it.

“It has Christmas in the title”

“And the word nightmare!”

“What’s it about?” Billy says and you gasp.

“You’ve never seen it?”

“No! Mama! We wanna watch it!” Tommy insists.

“Boys, I think it’s a bit scary… why don’t we watch… Ghostbusters?”

Wanda slaps your arm.

“What?”

“You are not taking Christmas movie night seriously!”

“I watch it every year, I swear!” you say, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

“We’re watching Nightmare before Christmas, but if the kids get scared, you are sleeping in their bedroom floor to keep the monsters away”

“Fine”

You take it as a small win when the boys actually enjoy the movie, and as they get ready for bed, they keep signing “this is halloween” over and over again.

“See? If it was a Christmas movie they would not be singing that” Wanda glares and you have to hold back a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I promise I won’t suggest any more movies for the next month” you kiss her temple, and she relaxes against you.

After taking a shower, you ease into bed and feel Wanda’s breathing even out, exhausted by the day you both had.

Still, you can’t fall asleep.

This has always been a complicated time of year for you. When you were a kid, it was your favorite holiday, mainly because your dad made sure it was extra special. And then he passed away and it just became another event in life that lost its magic. Your mother never really made an effort, at least with you.

It was only until you moved out that you found solace in the small things that reminded you of your dad. The lights, the snowy nights, the shorter days. It was all soft and gentle and it made you feel special again. The quiet life you found for yourself was all you needed to remember the better times.

Unable to sleep, you sneak out of bed and go down the stairs, turning on the tv and watching Ghostbusters, like you used to do with your father.

It’s halfway through the film that Wanda notices you’re gone, and she joins you, placing her head on your lap.

“What do you like to do for the holidays?” she asks, only realising now that she had been making you follow her family traditions.

“Watch Ghostbusters and eat junk food from a vending machine” you say, laughing when Wanda frowns.

“Why?”

“Because that’s what my parents did when I was born” you admit reluctantly.

“Your birthday is on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeap” you say with a smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Wanda sits up, hugging her knees.

“It’s no big deal”

“It is to me” she says, taking your hand, her thumb rubbing circles on your skin. “So, what did you do to celebrate before?”

“Same as Thanksgiving, really. Stayed at the hospital, though it is a bit more quiet than other holidays. Darcy would be there some years as well, and we’d just watch the movie and get any junk food we could find”

“And before that?”

“Well, my dad used to take me to pick out a tree and then we’d decorate it together. We’d also go sledding, drink hot cocoa… he told me he was going to teach me how to ice skate, but we never got around to do it”

“Was your mom not a part of it or…?”

Oh, your mother. You had almost forgotten about her and that ominous call. This is as good a time as any to share with Wanda more details about your life.

“So, when I spoke about them before I left out some stuff. My parents didn’t actually live together. My dad raised me on his own until he died and then I had to live with my mother… she was already married and pregnant with my half sister when I moved there”

“I see” Wanda nods, knowing it’s too hard to talk about all of it, even if you put up a brave face. “We’ll do anything you want. And you get to pick dinner and have two presents” she promises with a gentle voice, climbing into your lap.

“That’s not necessary” you laugh, hugging her tight. “You’re all I need, really. Plus, that apple pie you gave me each year was better than any birthday cake. You’ve been making my day special since we’ve known each other, Wanda”

“Still, I want you to have a perfect Christmas and birthday” she says with a determined look, and you know nothing will change her mind.

“Ok, my love”

—

Second part of the Christmas plan was to get everything on the twins’ Christmas list.

“It’s three weeks for Christmas, aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?”

“When it comes to twins, the sooner you do the shopping the better. Learned that the hard way when they had to share a Buzz Lightyear”

“I’m just saying, what if they change their minds about something on the list?”

“Excuse me, don’t you have a closet full of presents already?” Wanda mocks and you straighten up.

“How do you know that?”

“My house is right in front of yours, do you think I don’t see the delivery guy leaving stuff on your front door?”

“It’s not like I can sign up for them at the hospital. Plus, those are extra things, not from their list” you defend yourself, looking at the shelves full of toys.

“You are spoiling them”

“Wait until you see your present” you turn to wink at her.

“Is it in one of those boxes?”

“Oh, hell no. It’s more valuable than that” you say, examining the Nerf gun in front of you. “This was on the list, right?”

“Yes, two of everything, remember” Wanda says, looking for the Funko Pops they wanted. You add lightsabers, some remote control cars, and Pokemon figures.

Apparently, Pietro was taking care of the bikes and had promised to teach the kids how to ride during the winter break.

Once it was all settled, you struggled to pay before Wanda could reach for her purse.

“It’s not fair” she protests when you leave the store, taking your hand. “And you still won’t tell me what you want for Christmas and your birthday!”

“How about you, wearing nothing except for a little bow that I get to untie with my teeth?” you pull her against you, kissing the spot behind her ear. “Because that’s all I really want”

“I’d still like a list of other stuff” Wanda says, blushing at the image you just painted.

“Just bake an apple pie that I don’t have to share with anyone” you joke, putting away the bags in the trunk of Wanda’s car. “We should store these in my place, yes? Reduces the risk of the kids finding them”

“Sounds good. We have an hour or so before we have to pick up the kids. Want some hot cocoa?”

“Sure, lead the way” you agree, knowing one of her favorite cafeterias is close by. As you walk across the street, you find an ice rink in the middle of the square that is right in front of City Hall.

“You know… we could try” Wanda says as you walk past it, and you frown.

“Skating? Pass, babe”

“Why? It’s gonna be so much fun”

“I can’t even begin to tell you the amount of freak accidents that happen when you’re wearing a pair of blades in an icy surface”

“Ok, but can we focus on the fun for a second? I’ll be there with you, I’m great. You can hold my hand” she nudges your side, kissing your cheek softly. “Please, my love”

Wanda pouts and you have to roll your eyes. She always wins.

“Fine”

“Yay!”

You mumble incoherently the entire time you put on the skates, sighing when Wanda kneels and ties them up properly.

“What about protective gear?” you say, the girl in charge and Wanda sharing glances.

“What about it?” Wanda asks, trying to hold back a smile.

“What? No helmet? Knee caps? This is a safety hazard!”

“I can give you my elf hat” the girl says, not knowing how to proceed with a hysterical adult that refuses to go inside the rink.

“She’ll be fine” Wanda reaches for your hand. “Come on, sweetheart”

It feels like you’re learning how to walk, balancing on the skates and hoping you won’t fall on your ass.

“Relax” Wanda stands in front of you, smiling. You sigh, clearly unable to do that as people around you glide effortlessly. “Stand straight, knees slightly bent. Ok, feet in a V position, toes out and heels in” she nods, examining your stance. You feel like an idiot. “Ok, now just push to glide, alternating your feet”

“How do I decide which foot to move first?”

“What do you mean?”

“Left or right?”

“Whichever”

“That doesn’t make any sense” you insist, almost losing your balance. Wanda frowns, walking away from you and showing you how to do it. “Well, you make it look easy”

“Hold my hand” she says, skating backwards to pull you forward.

“Oh, God, I should have never agreed to do this” you complain, feeling stupid.

“Baby, relax. Close your eyes. Please” Wanda insists when you huff. With an eye roll, you relent, feeling her hands in yours. “Don’t think, just feel”

Wanda squeezes your hands, pulling you lightly and you take a tentative step forward. It’s not so bad, but you keep your eyes closed, brow furrowed as you focus on keeping your balance.

“I’m here” she reassures you, leaning forward and kissing you. It’s sweet, but definitely not so innocent as she opens her mouth and runs her tongue across your bottom lip. Without noticing, Wanda is dragging you along the ice rink, and you’re so focused on chasing after her lips that you fail to notice you’re finally skating.

“There we go” Wanda says, pulling away and skating backwards. The minute you stop feeling her hands in yours you open your eyes, terrified.

“Why did you let me go?” you shriek, stumbling around.

“You’re doing great”

Truthfully, you are not. Yes, you’re finally gliding along the surface, but your movements are uncoordinated and at one point, you push yourself too hard, going faster.

“How do you stop?” you say, crashing against Wanda. The speed takes her by surprise, and you’re on your way to hitting the edge of the rink. You turn her around in your arms so your back collides against the railing, the blow leaving you out of breath for a moment.

“You ok?” Wanda asks, arms around your waist.

“Fine” in spite of yourself, you laugh.

“Wanna try again?” Wanda says, her hands going up to your cheeks. You kiss her palm, nodding.

“Just don’t let go of me, please?”

“Never” she promises, pulling you back to the rink.

—

The kids are restless as you drive back home, almost as if they can tell you’ve been out shopping for gifts.

“Alright, settle down, you two” Wanda asks as soon as you walk inside.

“I’m walking Sparky now, just in case there’s an actual storm later today” you say, doubting the forecast can be accurate. It’s way too soon for snow.

Still, you put on a jacket and make sure Sparky is wearing the Christmas sweater Wanda got him this morning. For someone who didn’t want a dog, she sure as hell spoils him.

When you’re a few blocks away from home, you look back and dial a number.

“Hello?”

“Jenny. Hi. It’s Y/N”

There’s an awkward pause, and you’re not even sure if your half sister remembers you at all. Last time you saw her she was eight or nine.

“Yeah, hey. How are you? Give me just a second…” you hear a door closing, the outside noise muffled. “What’s up? Are you coming over for the holidays?”

You’re surprised to hear excitement in her voice. No one really cared if you did before.

“Uh, no. I got work” you lie. “I was actually calling you because your mom left me a voicemail the other day. Said you’re considering going to college close to where I live. So, just wanted to check if you know when you’ll be visiting”

It was the only way you could think of to get more information without having to call your mother.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry she bothered you with this”

“It’s no bother” you lie again. Half lie. If it was only Jenny coming you could handle it. The issue was always your mother.

“I think it’s gonna be after New Years but before school starts. Definitely not before Christmas” she says and you sigh with relief. You can at least enjoy the holidays without having to look over your shoulder. “I’ll text you when I know more. I-If it’s not too much trouble, I know you’re super busy”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. Text me if you need anything. Take care and happy holidays, kid”

You hang up, feeling strange. It’s a relief, to know you didn’t have to worry about this in the immediate future.

But you also think about your siblings. About the family you could have had if things were different. What would have been like if you had pushed against your mother’s bitterness? Been yourself and an older sister for them instead of hiding and leaving as soon as you could.

Was she a better mother to them than she was to you? Or did they have their share of issues with her?

You come back home, deep in thought so you miss the kids and Wanda hanging stockings in the stairs.

“You’re just in time, come over” your girlfriend says, surprising you with one that has your name.

“This is for me?” you say with a smile, amazed. You hadn’t had one since your last Christmas with your father.

“Well, of course” Wanda says, pointing at the spot next to hers. “Put it there”

Before you do as she says, you pick her up and kiss her.

“I love you” you say, trying really hard not to cry.

“I love you too”

“Can we watch a movie now or are you two gonna take forever?” Tommy says, making you both gasp.

“Where is all this sass coming from?” you say.

“We want popcorn!” Billy asks and you roll your eyes.

“Fine. I’ll get the popcorn, you get the movie” you put Wanda down, kissing her cheek.

As it turns out, the film for today is a personal attack on you.

“You frown like the Grinch!” Tommy says, laughing.

“And look, Sparky is sitting next to you, just like Max”

At Billy’s words, Sparky and you turn to look at each other, the dog looking embarrassed at the comparison.

“You know what, little brats? I’m hiding all your presents” you say with a Grinch voice, chasing after the kids as they shout, the movie forgotten.

“Run, boys!” Wanda says, pretending to be scared. You turn to look at her, a smirk on your face.

“Or better yet, I’m taking your mom and keeping her to myself!” you go back, carrying her over your shoulder and going upstairs while Wanda laughs.

—

Turns out a storm did hit during the night. You wake up before anyone else, amazed at the thick snow that is covering the street. You catch sight of Mrs. Davis trying to clean her driveway and you sigh, changing clothes to go out and help her.

“You’re such a dear” the woman says from her doorway as you shovel the snow out of the way.

“It’s not a problem, really” you reassure her. Once you’re done you take the cup of coffee she offers, making small talk until her phone rings.

You walk back to your place, feeling your face numb from the cold air. Even if you don’t have to work today, you clear the snow and the car, knowing it would be a pain to do it later.

Wanda’s driveway is next and by the time you’re done, you can’t feel your fingers or face.

“Sweetheart, why are you up so early?” Wanda says as soon as you step foot inside, taking off your shoes and coat to keep the rest of the house clean.

“Mrs. Davis needed help” you explain, your nose a little runny from the cold.

“Come here” Wanda almost flinches as she feels your low temperature, but her hands find their way to your face, and then through your hair, getting rid of the snowflakes that landed there. “You’re freezing”

“Warm me up, then” you say, smiling as she kisses you, her lips warm and inviting. Wanda gasps when your cold hands travel south, sinking in her curves. “So hot”

“Snowball fight!” you hear the kids upstairs, who finally woke up and looked out the window.

You smile, greeting them as they walk downstairs to get breakfast. Wanda makes pancakes and you stand next to her, appreciating the warmth of the stove as she finishes cooking.

“Can we build a snowman?” Tommy says, eager to go outside and play.

“Sure. We’ll go after breakfast, ok?” Wanda promises, sitting next to you. There’s a comfortable silence, the boys gulfing down their food and looking at both of you, eagerly.

Though you were looking forward to a slow morning, it’s clear that’s not gonna happen so you wash the dishes while the Maximoffs get their coats and gloves.

Sparky is the first one to run down the stairs, and you’re shocked to find him wearing his own winter jacket and boots.

“I’m feeling a little jealous of all the love he gets” you tease Wanda as you open the door.

The sky is clear now, and the sunlight reflects softly in the white surface. Wanda and the kids use the snow you plowed to build the first part of the snowman, talking while they work. You would be more than happy to help, but you’re too busy admiring the way Wanda’s profile is illuminated, an ethereal glow around her as she laughs with Billy and Tommy.

Once the first part is done, you help them with the middle and the head, making sure the sizes are proportional. Sparky keeps jumping around, the snow covering most of his small body.

“Carrot” Wanda requests, acting as a surgeon requesting a scalpel. She makes sure the eyes and smile are straight, while you pick rocks that will work as buttons.

“Are these ok?” Tommy shows her mom two branches for the arms.

“Perfect. Nice job” she says, nodding approvingly. “And now, the scarf”

She pulls out a red scarf, wrapping it around the snowman. It looks pretty darn cute to be honest.

“What are we naming him?”

“Y/N should name him this year!” Tommy says and you tap your forehead, considering your options.

“I propose… Slushy”

“Nice” Wanda nods, and you’re about to show your agreement when a snowball hits your back.

“Who did this?” you say, crouching like the Grinch again. Tommy and Billy giggle, both pointing at each other. “The Maximoffs have declared war!”

Chaos unleashes after that statement, everyone making snowballs and throwing them at each other while Sparky barks and runs around. Wanda finds cover behind her car, and you lift your fist in the air.

“Truce! We have a runaway! Go get her, boys!”

“No, boys! I’m your mothe-“ she never gets to finish that statement, as a snowball hits her square in the face. She spits out snow, looking shocked. You can’t hold your laughter, especially when she tilts her head and goes after the twins. “You are gonna be grounded until you turn eighteen! Come here, little brats!”

The Maximoffs engage in a battle for a few minutes while you record them, amused. It isn’t until Wanda beckons them to join her that you realise they are now planning an attack on you.

“Wait!” you plead, but you’re too slow, and by the time you run, they are already throwing snowball after snowball at you. You end up falling face first in a small snowbank, and they begin to use their hands to shovel more snow until you’re completely covered.

“Maximoffs win” Wanda says, while Billy and Tommy cheer. “Now go back inside, before you get sick”

You stay on the ground, too tired to move.

“Everything ok?” Wanda says, laughing. You manage to lift your hand and do a thumbs up.

“Spectacular”

—

The rest of the day is thankfully slower. The kids insist on going back out to walk around in the snow, because they think it’s funny how Sparky gets so excited, jumping right into it even if it goes all the way to his ears.

After dinner, everyone is too tired to watch a movie, so Tommy and Billy go up to their room, and fall asleep before Wanda can even close the door to their bedroom.

“I’m so happy we could all be home today” she says, smiling. You nod, closing the door and biting your lip, eager for some alone time with your girlfriend.

As she changes into her pajamas, you step closer, helping her out of her clothes.

“You know, I wanted to talk to you about something… uh…” she stutters when your lips leave a trail of kisses down her neck. “It’s i-important”

“Ok. I’m listening” you nod, pushing her against the bed.

“I can’t focus when you do that”

“Do what?” you feign innocence, settling between her legs, hands going up and down her thighs. “I can multitask, baby. Just tell me what’s on your mind”

Wanda tries really hard to remember what she had to say, but then you’re lifting her legs over your shoulders, pulling her shorts down and biting gently on the flesh of her inner thighs.

You lean forward, about to swipe your tongue across her slit, but stop, looking up at her.

“I’m listening, Wanda”

“Huh? No, please, just…”

“Just what?”

“Just fuck me” she whines, digging her nails in your scalp. You tsk, laughing as her back arches off the bed.

“You forgot what you were gonna say? My baby just likes to be a pillow princess that much, huh?” you taunt, not waiting for a reply. Your tongue finally dips into her pussy, Wanda’s reply to your mockery forgotten as she whines and moans, eager to feel more of your mouth on her cunt.

Finally, you have mercy, and let your tongue circle her clit.

“Fuck” Wanda moans, trying to keep quiet. That upsets you, so you nuzzle your nose against her clit, dipping your tongue deeper to fuck her. Now she can’t keep quiet and you want to smirk, pleased with the way she’s canting her hips up to meet your movements.

“If you don’t stop I’m going to…”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence, as you increase the speed of your movements, not stopping even when she comes, and tries to move away from you.

You only stop when her legs give out, and you climb up, kissing her stomach, breasts, neck and cheek.

“You were saying?” Wanda tastes herself on your lips, sighing against your mouth.

“I think you fucked it out of me” she mewls against your neck and you smile.

“Let’s see if it comes back after I fuck you again”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

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lostintransist · 2 months ago

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More on you hating getting frustrated with the guys when they care for you. Apologies for any spelling errors I'm on mobile and fighting a migraine.

Gender neutral reader.

Find Simon and John here.

Nikto: Every piece of him had tuned into caring for you. If you could catch him doing it you would ask him to stop. Okay maybe not stop but slow down. Nikto learned early into sharing space with you that you could wield a wooden spoon as well as any grandmother and weren't cowed by any of his hard stares.

The first time he tried to coax you from the kitchen so he could finish cooking for you hadn't gone well.

"Andre if you touch me one more time with the intention of moving me from my task I might stab you." You hadn't even turned from the counter where you chopped carrots.

He glared at you, arguing with the parts of him he didn't dare name. He worried that by naming them they would stay.

Toss her into bed and tie her there the snarling voice rippled across the internal atmosphere.

Nikto would never tie you down, he doubted he could when with consent. The remembrance of restraints brought gooseflesh to any of his body not cemented with scar tissue.

"Glaring at me won't change the fact I'm going to continue to care for myself and you."

How the hell did you always know?

Turning your head and seeing him you turn fully and lightly place your hands on his hips, one place he has agreed you can touch without permission. Your voice holds the lilt of a laugh that soothes him when you speak again.

"Your stares hold weight my love." Lifting one hand you hover over his cheek until he nods. Holding him as if he is a precious treasure you continue. "If I let you care for me like this how long until paranoid Nikto doesn't let me out the front door?"

Nikto opened his mouth to argue the point but the single lift of your brow stops him. You did have a point.

"Go back to making my life easier in ways that make me question what changed love and leave me to my cooking."

Nikto acquiesced to your ask, slightly annoyed that he had been found out. He dropped a kiss to your waiting lips before slipping from the kitchen.

Kyle: The drive home from the hardware store has a decidedly different feel than the drive there.

"What's on your mind Kyle?" You question as you crane your neck to ensure you were safe to pull out of the parking lot.

"I'm upset with you."

Always pragmatic your lover is. Your face screws up as you think over the past few days of his leave. No fights, good intimate times, and a general lull into happiness give you no clues as to why he is angry now.

"Care to share with the class?" You glance at him as you drive catching nothing more than his broody nose scrunch.

"Why did you let the employee help you but not me?"

That would never have crossed your mind as to a reason to be upset.

"Why did I let the person being paid to haul heavy things move the stones for me instead of my boyfriend who can't hurt himself while on leave?"

"Dammit that is not what I am saying and you know it," Kyle snaps at you.

Focused on driving as you are the only response you can give is the tightneing of your fingers on the steering wheel.

"Kyle I am going to ask you to stop yelling at me. I don't understand why you are upset and I don't like the volume you are choosing. We can discuss this or you can let it go." The calm tone you chose carries an undercurrent of your stress.

He takes three deep breaths as you merge onto the freeway. You wouldn't have a chance to look at him now. Good. Maybe this dicussion could end before you got home and everything would settle back into the normal joy of having him home.

"You fight me on who gets to pay for dinner," he lifts a finger in your peripherals.

Cutting in before he can continue you defend yourself, "I work hard and like splitting the bill or taking turns."

The flat stare of his eyes has you curling your shoulder into your neck to hide from his gaze.

"You don't like gifts except on your birthday and Christmas," he rushes ahead before you can interject again. "You never let me help around the house when I am home. Yes, except for the garbage because you hate the garbage. If I were to pay for a spa day for you I bet I would get yelled at for wasting my money."

"I wouldn't yell at you until after..." you mutter to yourself.

"The point is that you refuse to let me be apart of this relationship and I'm hurt by it. Why won't you let me love you? It makes me think you don't want me."

That statement shook you. It rattled out a deep thought from your brain, one that you and your therapist had been digging to find.

Tears sprang to your eyes as the realization rocked through you. If you let him in you worried that Kyle would leave. If you let him start to take care of you he would abandon you like everyone did. The instant you learned to lean he would disappear as if he had never been.

Blinking to stay focused on the road you took the next closest exit.

"I'm having a revelation, I can talk about this once I can pull over."

Kyle slides a hand onto your thigh, squeezing lightly as you tense your muscles under his touch. The first parking lot you found is where you parked and the sobbing overtook you. It took a long time for you to breathe past the tumult of emotions you had uncovered. He holds you as well as the car allows until you can sit up, back muscles pulling sharply. Damn getting old was hard on a body.

"I...uh...I realized my brain says I can't lean on you, or let you do anything for me because if you do then you will disappear like everyone else has on me."

Kyle looks shattered.

"Baby..."

You rush to reassure him.

"It's not you, and I know," you point to your forehead, "You wouldn't... that if you didn't come home it has nothing to do with me. But me, little me," you point to the lowest point on the back of your head "they don't know that yet. I will email my therapist when I get home and we will start working on it."

Gripping his hand in one of yours you pepper it with kisses.

"I'm so sorry I made you feel so bad. I want you. I want you so badly it aches to breathe sometimes. I need a bit of time to work on this, can you do me a favor?"

Kyle looks at you, tears rimming his eyes.

"Anything."

"Can you tell me when letting you do something for me would help you feel loved?" The sentence sounded weird but you needed to know he would tell you when you were getting to far into your own head about things.

Kissing the tip of your nose Kyle rested his forehead against yours.

"I would do everything for you if you would let me. But can we start here? Will you let me drive us home?" He whispers the words to you.

Your mind violently rejects the idea, some deep piece of you rebelling at the thought.

"Yeah. I think that can be a place we start."

A/N: Oooh I liked these ones! LMK if you would like to see any more of these.

HC Masterlist | Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz x reader #call of duty nikto #cod nikto #nikto x reader #lostintransit #lostintransit writing #gender neutral reader

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mawlbone · 1 month ago

Text

LUCKY RABBIT’S FOOT - KÖNIG

SNIPPET: Preparing for the winter means a lot of preserving and curing food for the long nights ahead. So when a giant rabbit falls into your traps, you can only sigh as you release it once more… And again, again, and again.

[CW: gender neutral reader, socially awkward reader, giant flemish rabbit hybrid König, hunting, mention of dead wild animals, childhood neglect, bullying, bad memory, and loneliness.]

[COMMENT: So many bunny König posts going around… Makes me very happy! Apologies for being very late to the party, but I brought this, have a fluffy little guy to hold. Also I should probably make a hybrid au post like my pet au one, but I will think myself into exhaustion assigning everyone a creature. But in short, like pet au, hybrids are kept as an open secret, kind of, but mostly reserved for military work.]

You realized from an early age that you were a surprise as many of your relatives liked to call you, which in adult-speak is a socially acceptable way to say you were unwanted. For as much as adults likes to underestimate what a child know and doesn’t know, it’s not hard to tell when everyone immediately goes silent when you enter the room.

It’s not like you asked to be born, neither did you asked for much. So why? Why cannot you even get a morsel of the attention that your peers can get. It doesn’t matter, children are adaptable therefore children too get used to feeling disappointed.

Crying gets you nowhere there’s no one willing to find you.

It’s not like they were abusive, there’s enough food on the table and a bed for you to sleep in, but nights at the dinner table while everyone else was out and about without you still inevitably stings. You rarely hear your family anymore, signing off your own paperwork for your own education and attending your own graduation by yourself. No effort in remembering anything about you at all, even at times forgetting your age.

So you don’t know how to act whenever you’re around people. It’s hard to gauge what you’re doing correctly or not when you have no practice whatsoever in knowing how to act. So parties at family friends’ house usually consist of you standing in the background and watching instead of participating in the play that everyone seemed to be part of, except you. Usually you find yourself just fiddling with your clothes or touching any textures your brain found enough fascination in.

Despite everything, if there’s one good grace you get from your family was your grandfather’s house, which you get to visit every summer. He was your stereotypical man: grumpy and grey from a bad leg injury during his service and not much of a talker. You’re sure he puffs more than he breaths in the many times you came to see him, but he made it a point to never do it in the same room as you. You never met your grandmother, she died before you can be born but from the giant portrait of him and her on the wall, you can guess he deeply cherishes her.

When you were old enough, you can remember taking you out for hunting trips with him. Long drives in the car with nothing more than lunch and his old rifles as he lectures you about gun safety time and time again.

During these moments, he’s the most talkative to you. Gently guiding you to the handle and teaching you how to be careful around animals and use every part of them.

Leave nothing behind, it’s the least you can do for taking a life even if it’s for your benefit.

Perhaps such an act would had raise eyebrows from anywhere else but humans are the scariest thing to you, so you ignore them for the most part as you gradually increase from small rabbits to the deers that overpopulate the area.

You’re not sure if you’re his favorite grandchild, but the effort he had done into at least spending time with you made him your favorite family member, you would had invited him to your graduation if it wasn’t for his worsening health.

An inheritance, a little cabin in the woods was what you had received in your grandfather’s will with a considerable sum of money to get you started, no word left behind as usual. Typical grumpy old man he was, you left behind his favorite cigars and flowers at his bed. Though you had to say, you had gotten a bit of a kick in getting the appliances while everyone else was arguing over family heirlooms. Hey, products are not meant to last nowadays, might as well get the oldies.

So here you are, living alone with your company only being the occasional visiting deer outside your window. And your visit into town only consist getting your medicine and last minute groceries nowadays.

It’s nice… The escape from everyone.

No longer did you had to deal with snippy comments for every little action you do in the endless bullying from your household. Still, it doesn’t satisfy that emptiness in your stomach.

You’re not sure what you hunger. It’s hard to tell with the limited amount of energy you have nowadays.

Scattered scribbled notes litter your bedroom and trash reminding you to maintain your schedule: brushing your teeth, taking a shower, making phone calls with your client to pick up their orders… All of it so you can feel some sort of maintenance in your life, at least normal enough to pass for your own self-satisfaction.

You’re too nervous to go to a therapist anyways.

But taking over your grandfather’s hunting business wasn’t what you expected in your career plans, not that you are complaining, it keeps the bills paid: selling the meat, bones, and using what couldn’t be sold to feed yourself from your trips to the woods.

However, the last thing you could had expected while checking on the last of your traps was the fattest rabbit you ever seen stuck in one of your footholds trap with a broken front paw laid in front of you.

All black with the slightest white stripe down its face, you can only stare as it huffs and thumps its foot down at you. Almost daring at you to pick it up and find out. Hard to look intimidating with giant floppy ears though, as you laugh at the trapped animal.

It’s awfully cute. A flemish rabbit, you learned later after tucking the animal underneath your arm to take back to your truck. Too weak and exhausted to fight back with its injury.

You didn’t kill it.

After all it may had been someone’s pet if anything with how well-maintained its fur is. Though you were met with the fluffiest kick in your life when you had to check its sex wondering about whether it needed to get fixed or not.

You didn’t dare to give it a name, attachments is scary enough as is. But taking care of him was probably the most interesting aspect of your year.

His fur was unbelievable soft, better than any fox or deerskin you had touched before when you brought him home. It’s embarrassing how you got yourself in a bit of a giddy after you removed the trap and wrapped the poor thing’s leg after contacting your closest veterinarian for help. Pressing your face into his dense coat while he laid on your lap and eating your greens all while huffy didn’t bother you, it’s probably the closest physical touch you had in years.

Animals were a lot easier to handle than people, you think as you settle him inside a large box of yours laid between thick old blankets you no longer use before in your living room. Just feed and love them enough and they’ll stay with you.

How nice…

You’ll call later to see if anyone lost their pet rabbit, but for now, you get to enjoy laying beside the rabbit and watch as he hides his squishy face from you. You had to hold yourself from squealing at the adorableness of his actions. Even if you panic whenever he gets too close to any one of your notes, fearing he’ll eat them and make him sick.

In weeks time, he’ll make a full recovery and be out of your life. So you’ll enjoy what comfort you can get from this new little creature in your life before he’s inevitably gone.

—

When König escaped into the woods after unexpectedly being ambushed from wrong intel, the last thing he could had expected was for himself to be trapped within a hunter’s trap for hours on end with a broken leg if anything.

A human’s trap to make it worse, as his ears perked up, hearing the crunching of leaves and branches being brushed aside before beady eyes meets you, a painfully ordinary person, he thinks as he watch in dismay as their eyes gaze over his shifted form stuck in their machinery.

Should he be mortified? Yes, yes he should at the threat of a towering human nearby making him feel ever so small again.

All weak and pathetic.

He’s old, experienced, and definitely killed enough men to fill an ocean, so why? Why is he feeling like he’s back in the halls again dealing with spitballs being flung on the back of his head, older children slamming him against the walls for fun, and dealing with daily beating at the back of the school and for the first time in decades…

He feels scared.

For all his muscles and size, he couldn’t save himself for what you plan to do with him.

Maybe it’s the grace of humans to be given enough intelligence to feel merciful towards the small. He doesn’t know. He’s too tired to fight back anymore as you settle him inside the truck after weak attempts to escape. Might as well die without pain, he so thinks.

But nothing could had prepared him for the absolute babying he received once he arrived inside your home. Honestly, it’s almost sickening if he’s wasn’t enjoying it so much as you cooed and pamper him, wiping his paws and checking his bandages regularly with a giant bowl of fresh veggies for him to eat. Hell, even massaging his fur! Never in his life had he been treated as a pet as he cries at the loss of his dignity. But fuck, if he’s not enjoying the sensation of your nails pressing against his skin and soothing him to sleep regularly.

Sure, you may be giggling like some freaks he know every time you press your face into his back but at the end of the day, he’s breathing, alive and even thriving at this unexpected vacation he found himself in. But you have duties to do, your hunting. So often times, he will find brief moments where he’s alone while you’re out hunting to shift and stretch his muscles and do some snooping around your cabin.

He never got the chance to properly take in all the notes taped to the walls of your bedroom as he was placed in another spare room but the sheer amount of paper covering everything was truly a sight. It was nothing important per se, if anything they were just mere instructions on the wall and dates of various kinds of all sort all litter around like a brain and its thoughts. Yellows mixed with blues and pinks and all sort of post its on your mirror and bathroom had him loss in all its vividness. Perhaps the strangest wallpaper he had ever seen if anything.

What a lost human.

He doesn’t know what to feel, perhaps a sense of pity at you or gratitude, which one first would be acceptable? He truly doesn’t know. Emotions are hard and it’s easier to numb everything out.

He’ll have to check in on you often if anything, he concludes once he shifts back after hearing your keys jangle into the front door and the familiar noises of you gently scolding him for getting his bandages all unwrapped again.

When the time comes for him to leave after his leg is all healed up, hopefully he doesn’t get grilled out by his superiors. For now, his mission is to accompany your time as he settles beside you on the couch to rest near the fireplace for warmth this chilly winter.

Goodbyes will be hard, but you won’t be alone anymore.

—

The next spring when you released your rabbit into the bushes, you had to stop yourself from shedding some tears when he refused to leave your lap and letting you have some last minute cuddles. His fur coat is shinier now, all soft and sleek from your endless pampering of the creature and truly did the black fur sparkle in the sunlight as you held him tight before he ran off to the depths of the woods with nothing more than the platters of his feet against the dirt road.

Truly, you thought that will be the last you seen of him. He didn’t appear the following summer or fall much to your disappointment with every pitter patter of your heart, which you desperately tried to ignore. Life still continued, and you’re alone once more with nothing more than your notes and mind to accompany you. But when a peek of black fur comes across your view in the middle of your checkup, there he was, standing right next to your trap with a familiar thump.

Your heart had quicken as you crashed through the brambly bushes to see your dear bunny looking all grumpy and white from the snow falling down onto his black coat. You were met with 20 pounds of softness as he jumped onto you, giving you enough time to brace yourself as you carried the loaf around and cheering, swinging your rabbit around and around in an excited rampage before settling down once more to inspect him.

His leg is all fine, but there’s a glaring red collar wrapped around his neck with a tag on it.

So he is someone’s pet, you muttered quietly to yourself as you flipped over the sliver tag and brush your glove over the cold metal to find a name embedded onto its surface.

Perhaps it shouldn’t be a surprise once you read it. How fitting for such a large creature…

König, a king, hm?

How perfect, you think to yourself with a nothing more than a smile before your rabbit nudges you to focus back on him with a firm thump against your lap to cuddle him some more, even nudging its head against your check to redirect your focus on him, which you can only laugh at as your hands immediately scrunch his warm sleek fur.

It’s always lonely during this time of the year for you in the silence of nature, but for the first time in years, you get to enjoy it with a floppy eared friend for many more winters to come.

#💀…cod #🪤…hybridau #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mawlbone’s empty pen

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beckyninja · 4 months ago

Text

Trust

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: some suggestive content; implied torture

Description: This is a direct sequel to At First Sight. Guilliman and his intended break the news to their entourages and face the first test of their relationship.

His calloused hands move over your body, mapping each curve and divot. You feel the heat of them, the strength of them. They could hurt you, you know. They could tear you apart with so little effort. But they won’t. You know they won’t.

He whispers your name. You’ve never heard it spoken that way before. Like he’s drinking in each syllable and is awed by the taste. You whisper his in return.

“Roboute…”

He takes your mouth again and you melt further into his arms. He encompasses you. Overwhelms you. Drowns you in his presence.

By the Light and the Void, you sink willingly.

But then he pulls back.

You feel his massive chest heaving against you, hear his breath coming in great gasps. When he speaks, it sounds as if he is trying to hold back an avalanche with will alone.

“I… I must stop.”

***

“My Lady?”

The voice ripped you from your reverie. You jerked upright, blinking. Before you, the great view port stretched to the ceiling, what was usually a view of endless starfield now taken up by the bulk of The Macragge’s Honor. The Ultramarine flagship, at least the size of your homeworld’s capital city, flew alongside and dwarfed your own ship.

It should have been an intimidating sight. Instead, you found the brutal and beautiful lines of the behemoth comforting. Your betrothed was there.

Betrothed.

You bit your lip and tried to hold back a delighted laugh.

Are you thinking of me right now, Roboute?

An impatient sigh reminded you of your company. You composed your face into a pleasant mask and turned to face the frowning attendant. She bobbed a half-hearted curtsy.

“Captain Takahashi, her officers, and Her Grace’s diplomats are assembled, my Lady. As you requested.”

You took a deep breath and rose from the cushioned window seat. “Thank you, Nita. I will be along shortly.”

The woman barely tried to hide her scoff, bobbed another perfunctory curtsy, and scurried off without waiting to be dismissed. You sighed. You’d done all you could to endear yourself to the attendants Grandmother provided. And still they treated you like some provincial hick fresh from the high country.

Which I suppose I was not too long ago.

Oh well. You’d grown used to their slights. They didn’t sting as much as they used to.

Holding your head high, you left the Observation Deck and headed toward the Bridge. Time to deliver the news.

Void only knows how it will be received.

***

“I… I must stop.”

He forces the words through gritted teeth. Every primal instinct he thought himself above roars in protest. They rage against his better judgment, urging him to dominate, to ravish. You’re warm and willing. Your very scent cries out to him. You want this as much as he does.

When he pulls away and you whine in confused protest, his will nearly crumbles.

“Oh My Hearts,” he groans, “do not tempt me.”

“Roboute?” Your soft hand slides along his jaw. “Why…?”

He closes his eyes and fights to master these foreign desires. “I will not dishonor you like this. You deserve better.” When he finally feels he has mastery again, he looks at you. “You will be Lady of Ultramar, my wife. I will not treat you like a mere mistress.”

You are silent for a moment, then, “I understand.”

Taking your hand in his, he presses another kiss to your palm. “Forgive me my rashness.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Roboute.” Your smile lights the dim room. “You’re a good man.”

If you had reached into his chest and plucked out both his hearts, Guilliman assumes he would feel much the same as he does now. Throne! His adoration is painful in its intensity.

“Sleep well, my Love. Fear nothing, and know that I am near.”

***

Roboute Guilliman was never more grateful for his skill at multitasking. His stylus flew over the parchments and data-slates before him with unerring focus, part of his mind steadily solving the unending problems of Imperial government one by one. As usual.

He trusted his face remained set in its usual mask. No one near could possibly guess at the turmoil beneath.

You. You. Youyouyouyou….

Your scent. The floral, herbal fragrance you favored, mixed with something he could only describe as fresh. Like the mountain air of Macragge.

Your touch. Cool in comparison to his and impossibly soft.

Your taste… the sounds you made….

Throne damn it all!

The stylus in his hand snapped in two. He growled and leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand across his face. For the thousandth time that day, his eyes went to the view port, and the sleek ship that floated beyond.

He understood your need to address your crew and fellow diplomats. His rational mind did, anyway. Every other part of him chafed at the thought that you were no longer in reach. You were so fragile, and this universe so capricious.

Whatever chance granted him this bit of solace could snatch it away just as easily. His chest constricted at the thought. He needed you close. On his ship. In his arms. In his bed.

No, damn it!

There were rules, in both your culture and his. Rules that needed to be followed. He would not permit you to begin your life at his side under a cloud of scandal. Throne knew acclimating would be hard enough without that. Besides, he wanted to court you, like the lady you were.

His impromptu proposal would already raise eyebrows. He frowned. You needed a proper ring. He’d have to see to that-

“My Lord.”

Sicarius marched into his office, sabatons striking the floor with slightly more force than usual. Guilliman could read the displeasure on the Commander’s face as he stiffly saluted.

“Are they all assembled?”

“Yes, my Lord. The Victrix Guard, the Ultramarine Captains in attendance, all the most senior baseline officers and officials, and the Mechanicus ArchMagi. As you ordered.”

“The Astropaths are prepared to transmit?”

“They are, my Lord.” Sicarius hesitated a moment. “Forgive me, Lord Guilliman, but, may I speak freely?”

Here it comes. Guilliman sighed.

“Speak.”

“I do not understand your reasoning behind this decision, my Lord.”

Not for the first time, Guilliman regretted the Commander’s presence that fateful night. Hiding anything from Astartes’ ears was nigh impossible, and he remembered well the look of utter horror on the Commander’s face when he’d exited your quarters.

Guilliman stood and made his way toward the door. “I shall make my reasoning clear during the official announcement, Sicarius.”

I doubt you would understand even if I explained it to you. I doubt any of your brothers will either.

Somehow, that saddened him.

***

“In conclusion, Lord Guilliman has made me an offer of marriage, and I have accepted.”

As you expected, your announcement is met by stunned silence, followed by a flurry of hysteria from the other diplomats.

“What?!”

“This is not what was planned!”

“What would Her Grace, your grandmother, say?”

“Have you lost what little mind you ever possessed?!”

You winced at the last outburst, coming from Lord O’Rourke. The stout career politician was the senior diplomat in this delegation, though your superior rank placed you in the position of Ambassador.

A fact he’d never forgiven you for.

You watched his face turn from its usual red to a truly alarming shade of purple. He lurched toward you and you had to fight the urge to shy away.

He can’t hurt me here. Not in front of everyone.

O’Rourke halted just a few feet in front of you. You could see, and smell, the sweat dripping from his face. He jabbed a finger at you.

“Foolish, brainless, naive little girl!” Spittle flew from his lips. “Get back over there and tell that barbarian warlord you’ve come to your senses and refuse his disgusting impertinence!”

Your eyes narrowed at the insult. He’d been singing a different tune when he’d actually met the Primarch, cringing and quivering on his knees.

“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that, O’Rourke. As we speak, Lord Guilliman is delivering the message to his staff, and then on to the wider Imperium. What’s done is done.” Indignation emboldened you. “And I, for one, am glad of it.”

The stinging slap caught you by surprise. A few of those present gasped, more smirked, as you stumbled back.

“Selfish bastard bitch!” O’Rourke snarled. “Have you any idea what you’ve done? You’ve sold your people into slavery because you couldn’t keep your legs close-”

“That will be quite enough, my Lord.” Captain Takahashi’s quiet command cut through the politician’s rant.

He whirled on her. “This is my delegation! You cannot tell me-”

“This is the Lady Heir’s delegation.” The Captain approached from her position by the helm. “But you stand on the Bridge of my ship.” She stood a good two feet shorter than the politician, but commanded far greater respect. “And I will not tolerate such undisciplined behavior. Will you, my Lady?”

The Captain sent you a meaningful glance. You swallowed tears of pain and shame.

“I-I will not. L-Lord O’Rourke, please remove yourself from my presence until you have r-regained your composure.”

Void! Why can’t I stop my voice from shaking?

O’Rourke looked as if he was about to argue, when a motion from the Captain brought two men-at-arms to your side, hands on their weapons. The politician seethed and stormed off the bridge, followed by the rest of the diplomats. They did not bother waiting for your dismissal.

You let loose a long, unsteady breath. “Thank you, Captain.”

She nodded. “I know my duty, Lady Heir. Even if some have forgotten theirs.” A brief pause. “Would you do me the honor of joining me in my stateroom?”

You managed a smile and followed her off the bridge. Once inside the rather spartan stateroom, the Captain pulled a chair and motioned for you to sit. She then called a steward, who vanished into a sideroom before re-emerging with an ice pack and a flask.

“For your face.” The Captain handed you the icepack. “And for your spirit.” She handed you the flask.

“Thank you.”

You pressed the pack to your aching cheek, but did not drink from the flask.

“You’ve always been kind to me, Captain.” The stoic woman bowed her head in acknowledgement. “I would know your thoughts on this matter, if I may.”

A long silence. The Captain seemed to stare off into the distance before speaking.

“In my time in your presence, I have come to know you as a conscientious young woman. You care for our people, and would never take a course of action that would harm them.”

You warmed under the rare praise.

“In fact, I believe you would sacrifice both your dignity and your honor if you believed it necessary. You have been taught to do so.”

Your eyes widened. “This isn’t like that, Captain!”

“Is it not?”

You set the ice pack on the table. Your mind spun with a thousand different arguments and rationalizations. Finally, you settled on the simplest.

“I love him.”

Her expression didn’t change. “But do you trust him, Lady Heir?”

A bucket of ice water dashed over your head would have felt much the same. “I….”

By the Light and the Void, do I? Or am I being played for a fool yet again?

You finally chose to take a swig from the silver flask. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but failed to supply the courage you sought.

“Captain, I…I don’t-”

“Captain!”

A naval officer burst into the stateroom, eyes wild. “Someone has armed the nuclear arsenal!”

Captain Takahashi was on her feet in the blink of an eye. “Shut down the firing systems, immediately!”

“We’ve tried, Ma’am. We’ve been locked out of the computer!” He swallowed. “They’re aiming at the Imperial flagship.”

Roboute.

You felt your heart still. “Light help us.”

***

Guilliman stood in his massive audience chamber. The vaulted ceilings, great pillars, and vast murals of Ultramarine triumphs never failed to awaken mixed feelings of pride and melancholy in him. But today, today he allowed himself to feel just a sliver of joy as well.

He knew few enough in the multitude shared the sentiment.

Shock seemed to be the prevailing emotion, followed closely by confusion, especially among his sons. At least they didn’t all express the same blatant disdain as Sicarius. He hoped some of them would eventually come to appreciate your presence. Part of him wished Calgar were aboard, just to see his reaction.

The baseline officials traded glances and whispers amongst themselves. They all knew of your existence, of course. But relatively few had ever come into contact with you. This news must seem to come out of nowhere to them.

Only the Mechanicum Magi had no response at all. Guilliman could imagine them wondering why he’d interrupted their work for such a trivial announcement.

He found himself oddly disappointed.

Then he noticed the serfs.

They moved among and on the edges of the crowd, unnoticed by nearly all. But his Primarch’s eyes caught the smiles beneath their hooded robes.

It seems some did share his joy after all. The thought lifted his hearts.

He turned to Sicarius. “See that the Astropaths transmit this message not only to Holy Terra, but to the Captains of the Companies as well.”

Sicarius nodded, but did not leave immediately. “My Lord, what if this is all some sort of trap?”

A few eyes glanced their way and Guilliman growled. “Lower your voice, Commander.”

He did, but did not stop speaking. “I do not know how this… female has ensnared you, my Lord. But have you considered that she could be some sort of psyker? How do we even know her people possess any useful technology? Perhaps this is all an elaborate ploy to get you to lower your-”

“Enough!” Guilliman winced as his retort echoed throughout the chamber.

He retreated to his office. Sicarius followed, silent but obviously displeased. Once inside, Guilliman whirled on him.

“Commander, I understand your concerns, but if you ever, ever question my judgment in front of such a multitude again, I will see you demoted and dishonored. Do you understand?”

Sicarius went rigid. “Yes, my Lord.”

Guilliman closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Do you think I have not considered each and every one of the things you named? I have. And I have discarded them all.”

The Commander’s facial muscles twitched in such a way that Guilliman knew he was struggling to remain silent.

Guilliman turned away.

How can I explain this in a way you could understand, Cato? How can I say that I truly do not care if her world is of value to the Imperium or not? As long as I have her.

He remembered the look in your eyes when you accepted his proposal. The love he saw there. He knew what betrayal looked like. Few knew it better.

You would never do that to me.

Alarms blared. A mechanical voice screeched through both his and Sicarius’s personal vox-casters: “FOREIGN WEAPONS SYSTEMS’ ACTIVATION DETECTED. ALL HANDS TO STARBOARD BATTLE STATIONS.”

Sicarius leapt into action. “My Lord! We must get you to the armoring room!”

But Guilliman broke away and strode to his view port. Your ship slid into view, small and silvery and somehow more aggressive than it had been just hours before. He saw portals, like mocking mouths, opening all along the side facing The Macragge’s Honor. Missile ports.

“My Lord!” Sicarius bellowed.

The mechanical voice screeched again. “COUNTERMEASURES READY. AWAITING ORDER TO FIRE.”

Behind him, he heard Sicarius activate his vox. “This is Cato Sicarius, Commander of the Victrix Guard, I hereby give the order to-”

“Wait.”

Sicarius’s voice rose into octaves not usually attained by an Astartes. “My Lord?!”

Guilliman ignored him, eyes fixed on your ship. In a mere millisecond to the average human, his mind raced through every possible option. His flagship could atomize your’s without even putting a dent in its munitions stock. Your crew knew they had no chance. That left malfunction as a possibility.

Or suicide. Your ship had been allowed closer to The Macragge’s Honor than any non-Imperial ship in millenia. This could be some desperate, sacrificial attempt at assassination. Sicarius’ words, dismissed moments before, now gnawed at him.

Had that been your plan all along?

“Lord Guilliman!” Sicarius all but screamed.

He did not speak, eyes still fixed on the open missile ports. He should give the order. But something… something held him back.

“INCOMING MESSAGE FROM FOREIGN VESSEL.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Patch it through to my personal vox.”

Behind him, he sensed Sicarius was nearing an apoplectic fit.

“Roboute?”

Your voice, thin and staticky from a barely compatible communications system. But still your voice.

He activated his vox and spoke your name.

***

You gasped in relief at the sound of your name over the transmitter. “Roboute! Don’t fire. There was a mutiny among several of my delegation. They hijacked one of the firing systems.” You knew you were babbling, but couldn’t stop yourself. “We managed to stop them just in time and things are back under control. Don’t fire!”

Tears filled your eyes. You couldn’t decide if they came from the stress of the last few minutes, or the idea that your love might think you’d betrayed him.

“Please don’t fire. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I-I would never….” Your throat nearly closed.

Beside you, one of the naval officers reported. “Their weapons’ systems are still active, Captain.”

Captain Takahashi’s face, blackened from weapons’ fire, was grim. She motioned to another officer.

“How quickly can we cloak?”

The officer just shook his head.

You swallowed. It was all up to you.

Do I trust him? Does he trust me?

“Roboute, please.”

You felt a strange sense of calm as the realization you’d done all you could came over you. Now it was up to him.

The officer next to you suddenly laughed. “They’re powering down!”

The transmitter cracked to life. “Are you well?”

Tears fell. You replayed the last few minutes over in your mind. Chasing after the Captain and her men-at-arms as they rushed to the Fire Control Center. You hadn’t known what else to do, and waiting seemed unbearable.

There you’d found the door held by Lord O’Rourke’s personal guard. Shouts. Screams. Smoke in the air. Someone had shoved you to the floor. You remember wishing you had a rifle.

In seconds that seemed like hours, your group had forced their way past the door, and found O’Rourke poised to fire the missiles.

He’d looked so proud. “I do this for our people, and by the command of the rightful heir-”

Light and Void, had you really thrown yourself at him? At that moment, you hadn’t thought of the alliance, shattered before it had a chance to begin. You hadn’t thought of the hundreds of innocents who would die. You hadn’t even thought of your own life.

You’d thought of impossibly blue eyes, looking at you like no one had ever looked at you before.

When you awoke moments later, ribs aching from where you’d been thrown against the computer bank, all you could think about was getting to the nearest transmitter.

“Yes, Roboute, I am well.”

The next hours passed in a blur. Roboute insisted you return to his flagship, and Captain Takahashi had agreed. She couldn’t know who else among her crew might be plotting mutiny. But she did have one thing to say when she met the Primarch in the docking bay.

“Nothing will stop me from launching every bit of ordinance I have at your ship, if the Lady Heir comes to harm under your care.”

The Ultramarines had stiffened, but Roboute only nodded. “If I allow harm to befall her, I will lower our shields myself.”

Then he’d swept you into his arms. You snuggled against him as he carried you through the halls of his ship, ignoring the glances from those you passed.

“Where are you taking me?

“I have had new quarters prepared for you, adjacent to my own.” He smiled wryly down at you. “I am not letting you out of my sight again. Not, at least, until we reach your homeworld.”

You stiffened. “You’re taking me home?”

“Of course. How else will I officially ask for your hand?”

You pressed your face into his chest, not wanting him to see the dismay that flitted across it. Home held fewer happy memories than he thought. Still….

You trusted Roboute Guilliman to keep you safe.

***

Guilliman made sure you were tucked safely in bed, a medica on hand and one of his Victrix Guard stationed by the door, before he made his way back to the docking bay. Commander Sicarius and a rather plain-looking baseline man fell into step behind him.

The warmth and comfort of your presence faded with each thunderous step, changing into cold rage.

A tiny woman met him outside of a shuttle similar to the one in which you’d first arrived. He nodded to her.

“Captain Takahashi.”

He saw her shiver slightly at the expression on his face, though she quickly regained her composure. “Lord Guilliman.”

He glanced toward the shuttle. “My thanks for bringing me what I asked for. I sincerely hope you will not be reprimanded by your superiors.”

“I would endure any level of reprimand necessary for this. Besides,” her dark eyes glittered coldly, “prisoners are often ‘shot while trying to escape’.”

She snapped an order into her comm-link and the ramp of the shuttle opened. There was a muffled shriek as a bound and gagged figure tumbled down and into the docking bay. He’d been stripped to his underclothes, and his skin already bore numerous mottled bruises.

The Captain eyed him. “The Lady Heir managed to land a few good hits before he threw her off.”

Guilliman felt a surge of pride. “She is stronger than she looks.”

“In more ways than one.” The Captain saluted. “My Lord, I leave you with your baggage. I trust you’ll share whatever information he divulges. I am most interested in whoever gave him his orders.”

“As am I.”

The Captain strode up the ramp without a second glance at the bound man, even when he whimpered something that sounded like her name. A second later the ramp closed, and the shuttle departed.

Guilliman walked slowly toward the man, stretching to his full, armored height and never breaking eye contact. The pathetic figure immediately soiled himself.

“Interrogator,” Guilliman motioned to the unassuming baseline, “how long before you extract every secret this insect has to give?”

The man cocked his head, the implants where his eyes used to be whirring, “Oh, an hour at most, my Lord. Faster, if you don’t mind more… extensive damage.”

“Proceed.”

“And when I am finished, my Lord? What shall I do with what remains?”

Guilliman stared down, unblinking, at the screaming form of Lord O’Rourke, the man who’d come so close to extinguishing one of the only lights in his life.

“The lower decks are always in need of more servitors.”

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@bispecsual @kit-williams @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus @lemon-russ

@justeverythingnothingelse @scriberye @bleedingichorhearts @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @mooniequeen

@passionofthesith @noncon-photobomb @sinistermojo @b-rabbitboss

#warhammer 40k #primarch x reader #roboute gulliman #roboute gulliman x reader #the first hiccup in the relationship #trust issues #shadowy forces at play?#but these two come out strong

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beholdthebangs · 2 months ago

Text

Perseverance

Sebastian x F!Reader

~ 18+ ~

Synopsis: Smut - You spend far too much time thinking about Sebastian only for him to keep you at arms length for months. Conversations always turn to arguments but one night, arguments turn into something entirely new.

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-rough sex, praise, lowkey brat!reader, jealousy, arguing, smoking, drinking

A/n: I don’t have a good summary for this, I just wanted to write about Sebastian so I did ☺️

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Waking up with the rise of the sun every day is certainly not a lifestyle everyone can get behind, but it’s the one you chose the day you left your corporate work life behind to take over your late grandfather’s farm. The days are often long, but you love the occasional short ones where your list of tasks is short enough to crawl into bed by sunset, body aching nonetheless, hoping that maybe the extra time spent resting will heal you this time. Because of your somewhat unique schedule, you frequently run into the same residents of Pelican Town. Alex often crosses paths with you on his morning run. Sometimes his grandmother, Evelyn, is in the town’s centre watering the flowerbeds as you hurry to Pierre’s to pick up seeds. Shane is often on his way to work and you greet him cheerfully in exchange for a tired grunt.

In turn, there are many people you hardly get the chance to see. You can never seem to track down Marnie for one reason or another. Sam is often so wrapped up in practicing his skateboarding tricks or rehearsals for his band that it’s difficult to get a sentence out of him. Gus is a rare sight, almost always locked away in his saloon which you sometimes pass longingly on busy days, wishing you could afford to slow things down for a moment but never having the luxury.

There’s also the night owl of the town: Sebastian. Tucked away in the mountains, typing away at the computer in the basement room he so frequently occupies, and you’d wondered if he ever left the confines of it. A short while into your time in Pelican Town, you finally get your answer.

The night had slipped away from you as you descended into the mines. You eventually throw in the towel and hurry out into the cool summer night breeze as the clock hits midnight, hoping to get just enough sleep to regain your energy tomorrow. As you hustle across the wooden bridge near the mine entrance, you notice a small glow from across the lake. Curiosity getting the better of you, you approach it slowly. Only a few feet away now, a shuffle is heard and a figure moves out from behind the thick trunk of a pine tree, a small yelp pulling from your throat. It twitches, moving quickly to look at you.

“Y/n?” it says. You recognize the raspy voice as Sebastian’s, the moon’s light finally helping you fill in the dark image before you.

“Sebastian, what are you doing out here?”

He holds up his cigarette between his two fingers before bringing it back to his lips, the cherry at the end lighting up orange and red, resembling that subtle glow that had pulled you in.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“Yep,” he replies, taking his eyes off you and looking back out over the lake that sits before him.

“Do you get lectured a lot?” you wonder. He looks back, tilting his head in confusion. “You seem a little defensive.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. My mom isn’t particularly happy about it but she’s always telling me to get out of my room.” He gestures vaguely to the nature surrounding him. You let out a small laugh.

“I’ll let you get back to it.” He doesn’t answer, just nodding as he turns himself back to the lake, leaning against the trunk of the tree behind him. With that, you head back home, barely making it into bed before 2 am and getting your bare-minimum 4 hours of sleep for the night.

Since then, you’ve felt an urge to go back to the mines in the afternoons. While you’re nearing the bottom levels, you know that your motivation doesn’t lie with the desire of reaching whatever awaits you underground. Once the time passes 7 pm, you want to quit and head back home. You want to leave the mines and look across the lake for that glowing cherry of Sebastian’s cigarette. To have a conversation so barebones that it’s a stretch to consider it a conversation. For some reason, you spend far too much time going over all the things you could say to him only to have a surface-level chat each time you manage to catch him before scurrying off as soon as the silence is too thick to break through.

This goes on for months, until the end of winter. It’s the last time you’ll be able to go to the mines for a while as you anticipate a busy spring. Your finances are in a good position with the gems you’d found in the mines over the cold season, and you have the gold to invest in a few hundred seeds this time around. The time and energy it’ll take to tend to your crops means you’ll likely only be able to go to the mines on rainy days, in which you’d noticed Sebastian wouldn’t be hanging around at night like he usually was.

When you call it quits in the mines tonight, it’s just past 11 pm. You can’t help but smile seeing the smoke blowing over the lake as you leave the cave, restraining yourself just enough to not skip over. “Hey,” you say, drawing his attention and he glances over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he replies quickly.

You stand to his side, just out of sight as he’s turned away from you. With a hesitant look over his shoulder once again, you make eye contact. He shuffles awkwardly, turning his body toward you as if confused to why you’re still standing there, staring at him.

“Do you mind if I have some of that?” you ask, gesturing toward his cigarette when he doesn’t move.

“You want to slut off it?” he asks. Your eyes widen, lips pursed at his words. He rushes out, “It’s a saying—“ and clears his throat as if to cut himself off. “Sorry. Here.”

Sebastian holds out his hand, cigarette between his index and middle finger for you to grab. You take it carefully, praying to Yoba that you don’t look as dumb as you feel fumbling with it. You grip it between your thumb and index finger, holding it up to your mouth and taking a quick puff, eyes flickering from the tip up to his eyes. He stares at you instead of breaking any eye contact like he usually does, studying you. While the taste of overwhelmingly bitter smoke is obvious, the paper of the cigarette holds the slightest bit of mint and you wonder if this is what Sebastian’s mouth would taste like. You hold the smoke in for a moment then breathe it out, his face fuzzy for a moment as the smoke spreads between you before being carried away with the wind. It takes everything in you not to choke with the feeling in your lungs, but you manage. Sebastian’s eyes still on you, you hand the stick back.

“How was your Feast of the Winter Star?” you ask as he brings it back to his mouth. You can’t help but wonder, watching him, if he’s thinking about your lips lingering there just moments ago just as you had.

“Good.” He hesitates. “How was yours?”

“Good! Who was your secret gift giver?”

“Clint. He gave me obsidian. You?”

“Cool,” you nod, making a mental note at the lack of disdain in his voice and jumping to the conclusion that it was a good gift for him. “Alex was mine. He got me a gold bar.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, looking back over at the lake and shutting a part of himself off from you once again. “You don’t have enough of those yet? You’re in the mines every day.”

“Every bit helps,” you shrug.

“Where’d he get the money for that?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You must be close if he’s shelling out that much money on a gift for you.”

“Close is an overstatement.” He doesn’t seem to believe you, only taking a long drag in response. “You seem to really care about this,” you comment.

He scoffs. “Yep, it’s all I care about.”

“It’s just strange how you can hardly keep a conversation going, and now you’re asking me all these questions about Alex.”

“Maybe I don’t have an interest in holding up conversations,” he retorts. The way he says it cuts you deeper than you’d like to admit. You had subconsciously changed your routine to run into him, mind constantly running over your previous chats and future ones. To hear that he can’t relate to that at all, and in fact may even dread seeing you stroll over in the dark of the night, hurts.

“I thought you may take some enjoyment from it,” you mutter, looking to your shoes.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. He takes one last hit from his cigarette, then throws it in the patch of dirt at his feet, smothering it with his foot. “I’ll stop with the mixed signals, then. Goodnight, Y/n.” With that, he retreats back to his house, the remnants of smoke drifting off behind him as he exhales, leaving you with the smell of it as you watch him walk away in your peripheral.

Three weeks have gone by since that last conversation. If you’d thought Sebastian occupied too many of your thoughts before, it had gotten increasingly bad since. While you hadn’t seen him after that night, you would think of him when you saw Alex, Clint, or even gold. In fact, there wasn’t much that didn’t draw your attention to the darkened demeanor of the mysterious boy in the mountains. The switch in him hadn’t left you, and it continued to confuse and wound you no matter how long you thought about it.

The day of the flower dance finally arrives and as you shower, you think about what you might say to Sebastian. While it’s not his scene, you can be almost sure that he’ll be present regardless—if Abigail is forced to go, she’ll force Sebastian along with her. Part of you wonders if he would accept a request to dance with you, and you can’t help but laugh as you picture it. A man who couldn’t care less about talking to you certainly wouldn’t want to stare at you in a frilly dress and claim you as his partner, even if only for a minute.

After drying your hair and pulling on the formal dress all the girls wear for the occasion, you head south of your farm, through the shortcut into the woods. As you approach, classical music grows louder and you finally cross the bridge over to Pierre’s stand.

You begin greeting your neighbors, making rounds. You head the opposite direction of Sebastian, making eye contact over the back of Sam’s shoulder who seems to be going on about something that Sebastian is uninterested in. You take your time chatting with the others until, inevitably, you complete the loop with Sam, Abigail, and Sebastian.

“Hey guys!” you muster up your most energetic voice, waving as you approach their circle.

“Y/n! You look so good!” Abigail exclaims.

“You do too!”

Sam clears his throat obnoxiously, the others’ eyes drawn to him. “You look great too, Sam,” you add, throwing an over-exaggerated wink his way.

“At least someone noticed,” he grins.

You finally turn your attention to Sebastian. “How are you?” you offer, in large part because you miss the frivolous pleasantries you used to exchange, but also because Sam and Abigail would be rather suspicious if you said nothing in his direction.

“Good,” he responds rather roughly.

You look at him for a few seconds as he refuses to meet your gaze. You take full opportunity to scan over him in his blue suit. Though he wears an outfit identical to Sam’s, his tall stature and dark tattoos peaking from his neckline and sleeves give it a much different vibe. You force yourself away, taking a quick breath in and turning to the other two. “Well, I should get going. Enjoy the dance!” Abigail and Sam mutter their goodbyes as they glance between you and their friend, and you don’t bother looking back at Sebastian as you walk away.

You’d originally planned to sit this dance out like you had last year, but the way Sebastian refused to acknowledge you has caused something within you to break. You had toiled over your last conversation for cumulative hours each day and for him to not even bother asking you how you are? Even just for appearances’ sake?

Your gaze is set on Alex and your feet are carrying you toward him before you can register the decision. He smiles at you as you get closer, pulling his attention from Haley who circles the field as if stretching her body for the dance. “Hey Y/n, looking good.”

“Hey Alex,” you sigh as you stop a foot in front of him. “Will you dance with me?”

His eyes widen, flickering between you and Haley. She doesn’t seem to notice what’s going on, and Alex chews on his bottom lip as he debates his options. After a few seconds, he gives in. “Yeah, sure. That would be fun, thanks Y/n.”

You smile, nodding as if to confirm to yourself his answer before leaving to give Lewis the go-ahead.

The young men line up in the middle of the field, their counterparts facing them a few feet apart as music begins to play. It’s your second flower dance, but your first time participating. Being so new to the valley last year made it difficult to find a partner and you’d decided to sit it out and watch in hopes you could participate in the future. Now, you’re racking your brain to recall the steps.

Though you fall slightly out of sync with the girls who have done this dance for years, you manage to keep up, letting out quiet giggles with Alex whose expression is filled with amusement as he watches you. Sam stands next to him, Sebastian at the end, and you can’t help but steal a couple glances during the course of the song. He looks substantially less happy than the two boys closer to you, and you can’t help but wonder if the reason is more complex than his distaste for the festival.

As the music ends, Alex closes the gap and holds your arm for a moment. “You did great!”

“Thanks for being my partner,” you respond, smiling graciously.

“Any time.” He lowers his voice, leaning closer to your ear. “Haley’s great, but she takes this stuff really seriously. It was nice to just have some fun with it.”

The crowd disperses shortly after with the main event concluding. Sebastian, with Abigail and Sam on his heels, leads the charge as he practically storms away from the open field and back toward the town. You spend a few minutes mingling before heading back to your farm for the night.

Two days later, you find yourself nearing the end of a long week and in desperate need of food and alcohol. You sit at the bartop of the saloon, having finished a plate of crab cakes and your second beer of the night when Sam enters. He greets you as he passes, heading toward the pool table in the other room.

Your eyes are trained on his back, weighing your options for the rest of the night. You could either head back home and toss and turn in bed, or you could take this opportunity to bond and have some fun. You pause for just a moment before rising to your feet, hurrying after Sam. He’s already setting up a game when you enter. “When does your partner arrive?” you ask.

“Seb?” Sam checks his watch. “Hopefully within the next half hour. He’s not the most punctual.”

“Want to play a round?” you ask, gesturing to the table.

He seems taken aback, but quickly agrees. “That sounds fun. You want to break?” Sam offers up a cue and you take it, crossing the distance to the other side of the table. It had been a while since you’d played, so you had no strategy, but having seen Sam play against Sebastian for the past year, it seemed like it could be a fair fight.

You lean over, positioning the pool cue over your fingers and hit the cue ball hard. As it strikes the others, they fly across the table. You pocket a couple solids in the motion and you grin as you watch them roll in, happy to have had some luck. Sam groans as he leans against the wall behind him, cue vertical in his hands, resting on the floor between his feet.

You manage to sink another ball before missing the pocket, and Sam takes over. He pockets one as you’d accidentally left the perfect setup, but he fails to get anything more. As you work to line up your next shot, you hear him yell out a greeting. Glancing up, Sebastian has just entered. He quirks his head up curtly at Sam in response but his movements stutter as his eyes scan over to you. Before you can muster up any words, he looks away and takes a spot on the couch, eyes trained on his phone screen.

“Y/n and I are just playing a quick round,” Sam explains. “You don’t mind, right?” Sebastian grunts in response as if to dismiss him. Sam chuckles to himself.

You attempt to focus back on your shot, feeling an extra pressure with Sebastian here. Not only is he good at pool, but you have a desire to impress him. You take a deep breath while leaned over the table before pulling back and sinking your fourth solid.

“Killing me,” Sam mutters and you laugh. Sneaking a peak to the couch on your right, Sebastian has his gaze trained on the table. You locate your next shot on the left side and lean down facing the moody man, biting your lip as you try to position the pool cue perfectly. The shot is good, but your next one isn’t hard enough to sink the ball, though it’s in the perfect position only a few inches from the corner pocket.

Sam manages to hit a couple, celebrating loudly after each. When your turn comes back around, you have to circle the table to face the corner, your back to Sebastian. It gives you some comfort to know his view is blocked and if you miss the softball of a shot you’re about to take, he won’t be able to see it as clearly. You lean over, trying to ignore the weird expressions shooting across Sam’s face directed behind you, and pocket it.

One more lucky hit later, you call your shot for the 8-ball and, likely much to Sebastian’s relief as he’s stuck spectating, win the game. You cheer, waving the pool cue in the air as you jump excitedly. Sam congratulates you begrudgingly, crossing his arms.

“All yours, Seb,” you announce, laying the stick down on the table with a look of pride still clear on your face. You turn to look at the man on the couch as he fidgets.

Rising to his feet, he stuffs his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I’m going to have a smoke, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll go with,” you say. Unsurprisingly, your self invite doesn’t excite him l but you don’t let it stop you.

You follow his lead through the crowded saloon and out the door. The sun has set and you realize just how warm it was inside, feeling your skin tighten in response to the chill in the air despite being just around the corner from summer.

Sebastian pulls a cigarette out, putting one end in his mouth and flicking the lighter, holding it to the other end. He shields the flame from the wind, the motion reflecting the light of the flame to his face moreso than before. Once it ignites, he stuffs the lighter back in his jeans pocket and buries his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, seemingly feeling the effects of the cold air as well.

You pull the thin fabric of your long sleeve shirt further over your hands, crossing your arms around the bottom of your ribcage in an attempt to combat the cold. Sebastian blows out a puff of smoke, finally looking over at you. His eyes flicker down, almost as if to look at your chest, but they meet your eye before the motion can register. “You seem cold.” You realize the indents of your now-hardened nipples are prevalent in your top and you move your arms further up, trying to brush it off as a natural response.

“I’m fine,” you reply. “We don’t need to talk, since you hate it so much.”

“Then why follow me out here?” he interrogates.

“Crowded in there,” you answer with a shrug. He clearly doesn’t believe you, but you add nothing else in your defense. Silence stretches on, and you fight back all the things you’d been dying to say to him since the end of winter. To your surprise, his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Looked good with Alex the other day.” You don’t reply. “Make it official yet?”

“Make what official?”

“You two,” he says, pointing between you and the Mullner household just around the corner from the saloon.

“There’s nothing to make official.”

“Got rejected?”

“No,” you snap. “Nothing to reject, either.” He says nothing. “What is it with him?”

“You tell me.”

“Really, Sebastian. You get so weird about Alex. Are you jealous of him or something?” He scoffs, taking another deep drag from his cigarette.

You study him from the corner of your eye. He’s shutting down, not about to give you any real answer and there’s nothing you can do about it but go about the next few days or weeks until your paths cross and you corner him into a conversation. Before you can think too much about it, you reach over and grab the cigarette from his mouth, putting it between your own lips and sucking in dark smoke.

After exhaling, you hold it between you to offer it back. When Sebastian doesn’t take it, you finally look over and his mouth is hanging open slightly, eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn’t necessarily look pissed. A moment of silence passes and you groan, taking the initiative to place the cig back between his lips. He closes around it, taking a small puff before pulling it back out and holding it between his index and middle finger, still waiting for some sort of explanation.

“I don’t know what your deal is with Alex.”

“You want to know what my deal is?” he challenges.

“Yes! Dear Yoba, yes!” you exclaim.

He turns to look at you, his torso still pressed against the exterior wall. “I hate the things Alex has. I hate that he has them, and that I don’t.”

“What does he have? Muscles?”

“I have muscles,” Sebastian retorts. You raise an eyebrow skeptically, lips twisted in a half-smile. “But no. He has money to buy you fancy gifts and people that really care about him. He has the boldness to talk to you whenever he wants, however he wants, and he has the charisma to make you like it.”

“I’d argue that you do that, too.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You give me the silent treatment for days at a time. I have to grovel with you to have a conversation, and I have to adjust my schedule to catch you outside your room, away from your work. You bitch at me for whatever’s got you in a mood that day and I take it and I sit with it until the next time I get to talk to you. You tell me you have no interest in talking to me and I spend so much time wondering how to change that. So yeah, I think you get away with a lot more than he does.”

“That’s because you’re annoyingly outgoing, not because you care any more about me than you do anyone else.”

“That’s not true,” you snap. “You’d know that if you’d bother to ask, or even just think critically for a few seconds.”

“You’d know that I don’t hate talking to you most of the time if you did the same.”

“You told me you don’t care to talk to me. You want me to ask clarifying questions after that?”

“What more do you need from me? I’m not going to get on my knees and beg you for your time,” Sebastian sneers.

“Do you think that’s what I’m asking for?”

He shrugs. “I let you hit my cigarettes, I don’t actively avoid you… what more is there?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you fein confusion. “Telling me how you feel instead of —apparently— lying to me? Even just talking to me like a normal person once in a while? ‘Hey Y/n.’ ‘How are you, Y/n?’ ‘You look good today, Y/n.’”

“You do look good today,” Sebastian mumbles begrudgingly, taking another puff of his cigarette.

“And you look good every fucking day! But I never get the chance to tell you because you ignore me or you bring up Alex and talk about how annoyed you are that he pays me even a shred of attention.”

“Because it’s annoying that he does that.”

“So you want me to do what exactly? Rely on you to give me any and all conversation? I’ll go stir crazy if I only speak to someone twice a month while twisting their arm to do so.”

“I’d be happy to talk to you more if you stop bringing him up,” Sebastian snips at you. “Until you get over him, I don’t see that happening.”

You glare at the tall, brooding man. “I’m not under him.”

“As much as you wish you were,” he says under his breath. It’s not quiet enough, the valley’s silence after sunset too encapsulating for him to get away with his dig.

“If I wanted to be, I would.”

Sebastian hums around his cigarette. “So what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t think about Alex the same way I think about you. Alex is a friend and that’s all I want him to be.”

His fidgeting come to a halt for a moment, turning to face you. “Then how do you think about me?” His voice is low, speaking barely above a whisper.

You match him, your body pointed in his direction. “I think about you all the time. When I wake up, when I’m in the mines, when I go home. When I get into bed…”

Sebastian steps closer, only a few inches from you now. “Mhmm… and what do you do when you think about me?”

You look up at him through your eyelashes. The way he phrases his words implores you to open up to him and bare it all. Maybe it’s liquid courage or the adrenaline of raising your voice or finally speaking your mind. “It depends.”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes I scream into a pillow at how frustrating you are.” Sebastian cracks a smile. “Sometimes I scream into a pillow at the thought of how good you could make me feel.”

“You think about it too, hmm?” he says, free hand moving up to place his fingers under your chin, keeping your gaze locked on him. Despite the cool spring breeze, your cheeks are red with heat.

“Yeah,” you breathe. Your fingers grab at the front of his hoodie, lacing with the fabric to bring him closer to you. The scent of cigarette smoke grows stronger, but so does the remnants of his spearmint gum. The two work together to create something that feels intoxicating to you, and all you want is to finally taste it.

Sebastian must notice how your eyes are trained on his soft lips. He puts his hands on either side of your face, cigarette still barely tucked between his left fingers, and pulls you to him, ducking down to close the gap your heights leave. Your lips touch, and you let out a small breath of relief, of desire. It spurs him on, right hand moving to the small of your back and pressing you to him as if no space between your bodies is still too much space. Your arms wrap around his neck, keeping him at your level. When his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you don’t hesitate to allow him entrance, basking in his taste as your tongues meet.

“Think we should leave,” he mumbles between kisses, not making any move to let you go.

You nod against him.

“Gotta tell Sam.”

“Tell him what?” you whine, breathless.

“So much,” Sebastian groans. “But,” he finally pulls away, keeping you in his arms but standing straight so he falls just out of reach, your arms shifting down around his waist. “I gotta tell him I’m leaving.”

Before you can object, he slips out of your grasp, stomping on his cigarette butt and heading inside, leaving you to catch your breath as you lean against the brick siding of the saloon. Maybe thirty seconds later, he’s back out with Sam at his heels who watches you two in disbelief.

“Have fun, you crazy kids!” the blonde calls out as Sebastian wraps his arm around your waist and steers you toward your farm.

You walk in silence, the side of your body pressed to his. You can’t think of anything to interrupt the noise of chirping crickets around you, and certainly nothing to build the tension between you that doesn’t feel embarrassing to say out loud even in the darkness of the dirt walk home. “Second thoughts?” you finally ask as minutes elapse with nothing exchanged between the two of you.

“Fuck no,” Sebastian snarls. “Trying not to look at you or think about you… I want to last long enough to at least make it inside.”

You giggle, pulling him closer and slipping your fingers under his hoodie, nails pressed into his side.

After unlocking your farmhouse, he steps in and immediately spins you against the barely-closed front door. His lips are on yours for a moment before moving down your jaw to your neck, nimble fingers scrambling to tug your shirt past your stomach. He takes a moment to feel your delicate skin, running along your ribcage and the bottoms of your breasts before parting to pull your shirt over your head. “Bold move skipping a bra in this weather.” He stands back, admiring your exposed chest, nipples still hard from the cool air and the arousal he’s provided you in the last few minutes.

“Your turn,” you prompt, moving closer to tug at his hoodie. He pulls it off in one swift motion, and you help take off his t-shirt. He hadn’t lied when he said he had muscles—Robin must put him to work once in a while. His torso is lean, stomach harder to the touch than you’d imagined. The black-inked tattoos that lie hidden on his chest accentuate the divots formed by labor. His arms are understated, but as he reaches forward to grab you, the motion brings out a defined strain below his skin. Sebastian pulls you to him with ease, connecting your lips as your warmed skin meets. The way he writhes against you, uses his whole torso to break your kisses, creates friction that electrifies you, stemming from your sensitive nipples. You moan against his mouth, and his hands quickly wander to your ass, feeling it while he pulls you closer, finally achieving the perfect angle to thrust his clothed length against your core.

“Seb,” you cry, fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his head.

“C’mere, princess,” he mumbles, hands fastening tightly under your ass as he pushes you up against the door, pulling your thighs around his waist and settling you around him. Once he secures you, he moves you to your bed, setting you on your back with his thighs holding your legs up around him. He grinds into you as his tongue slips back between your lips, meeting your own.

Your hands feel down his chest, down his stomach, using the dark hair forming a line from his belly button down to his jeans to find the button before fumbling with it. “So greedy,” Sebastian comments, slowing his movements to allow you easier work.

“I want you so bad,” you groan. Even if he was inside of you in the next second, it would still be far too long of a wait.

Seb steps onto the cold wooden floor of your bedroom to finish pulling off his black skinny jeans, kicking them away as they pool around his ankles. He uses the opportunity to tug off your own jeans, smiling as he eyes your black panties with a tiny bow placed in the middle of the waistband just below your belly button. “Were you expecting me, baby?”

“Just hoping,” you admit, happy to find him content with your underwear choice.

He pats your hip. “Turn around, let me see the back.”

You follow his instructions, flipping over with your elbows rested on your pillows, arching your back as you allow him to see your ass in your black panties, pulled tight to the curves of it. Seb groans, placing a hand tightly on the flesh before slapping it harshly, making you jump. “So cute,” he purrs.

His hand slides down, thumb pressing against your core to feel the dampness gathering between your legs through the thin fabric. “Do you get this wet every time you think about me at night?”

You shake your head. “Reality is much better than my imagination.”

“I’m glad, princess, but I haven’t even gotten started with you.” Pulling his hand back, he prompts you to sit up, legs on either side of him as he stands next to your bed. He carefully slides his fingers under your panties, pulling them off as you hold your hips up to help him, arms stretched out behind you. “So beautiful,” he sighs to himself as he takes in your naked body stretched out before him, legs still parted and allowing him full view of your pussy.

“I wanna see you too,” you tell him, reaching forward to his black boxers. The bulge in the fabric of them is apparent, stretching down a decent portion of his thigh.

“Take ‘em off then,” Seb grins, giving you permission to strip him of the last of his clothing. You take your time, slowly revealing his length until all that’s left is the tip. With one final pull, his cock springs out, hot pink tip extended toward you. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth as you take it all in, the knot in your stomach tightening. The lack of friction between your legs is growing increasingly irritating, and your thighs close together in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the ache. “What do you think?” If you hadn’t been looking at one of the most appealing dicks you’d ever seen before, you might think he sounded nervous.

“So fucking hot.”

Sebastian smirks. “All big for you.”

He sits at the head of the bed, propped up by pillows. Patting his chest, he motions for you to lay between his legs. You do so slowly, feeling him press into the small of your back and a groan escapes his throat, bucking his hips involuntarily as you settle against him. Seb pulls your hair behind your back, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck and soothing it over with his tongue. His left hand sneaks around to play with your nipple while his right slowly travels down your stomach, stroking your inner thighs as he sucks bruises into your delicate skin. You arch your back against him, reaching a hand into his hair and tugging at it as he toys with your breasts.

“Sebbb,” you cry, pressing your thighs together as if trying to slide his hand up to your heat.

He lets out a guttural chuckle, loud against your ear. The sound shoots directly down to your core. “Use your words, baby.”

“Touch me, please.”

“Where?”

“Here!” you whimper, removing your hand from his hair and reaching to your dripping cunt.

“Mm-mmm,” he scolds, shaking his head. “Words, princess.” His hand releases your nipple, gripping your wrist tightly to stop you from touching yourself.

“You’re just as exasperating in bed as you are outside of it.”

“I know. You’re surprised?” he asks, feigning shock.

You wiggle, trying to get your hand free from his tight grasp. Giving up, you reach down with your other hand, but he uses the one on your thigh to block you. “Words,” he barks, low in your ear, nipping at the tender spot he just sucked into your neck and refraining from taking away the sting with his mouth. “Do you think I’m joking? Do you think I won’t leave right now to get rope to tie you up with?” You lean into him, giving up the fight. “All you have to do is tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Not that hard, princess.”

“Touch my pussy,” you finally plead. And Sebastian is true to his word; he releases your wrists and snakes his fingers down, dipping his middle finger into your cunt knuckle-deep, collecting your wetness and spreading it up to your clit. Even that motion after all the teasing is enough to elicit a moan, and this spurs on the man to slide his finger easily inside you, thumb rubbing tight circles on your sensitive bud as he thrusts.

“Ready for another?” he asks, to which you squeak out a confirmation. He tucks his ring finger inside, joining his middle, fucking in and out of you as you clench around him. “So wet,” Seb mumbles, leaning to latch onto the other side of your neck with his lips. His other hand returns to your breasts, pinching at your nipples as you lean into him. “Can you take one more?”

“Yes,” you answer, moving your hips in time with his fingers. He adds his index into you, stretching out your hole in preparation for his thick cock. The tips tilt upward, rubbing against the spongy spot inside you. You buck your hips involuntarily, feeling him so deep inside you. While Sebastian’s fingers are long, his cock is nearly twice the length and you quiver at the thought of it inside you. His length twitches, poking against your back as if to remind you of what’s to come.

“Think you’re ready, baby?” he asks. “Wanna be inside you so bad. You feel so tight on my fingers.”

“I’m ready, Seb.”

He pulls out, leaving your cunt feeling incredibly empty. “On your knees, sweetheart. Wanna watch you fuck yourself on my cock right now.”

You bring your legs into your body, tucking your knees below you and spreading them to stabilize yourself on either side of Sebastian. You watch him stroke himself beneath your pussy, hovering over and waiting for him to position his length. He drags his tip from your clit to your hole, spreading his precum mixed with your slick along his length. Once his strokes sound wet and dirty below you, he pokes his tip at your entrance and you tighten at the anticipation. Sebastian reaches around your hip with his other hand to rub your clit as you begin to sit, taking him in slowly.

While he’s making you feel so good, you can tell that he’s distracted now, eyes trained at his groin as he watches himself disappear inside you. When his tip is fully tucked inside, he groans, letting go of his cock and squeezing the fat of your ass, spreading it aside to better see his cock entering you. “So fucking sexy,” he praises. “Such a good girl.”

With his thick tip inside, the rest of his cock is easier to manage though the length building inside you is intense as the backs of your thighs finally meet his hips. You let out the breath you’d been holding, finally feeling his entirety buried inside your cunt. Seb grabs at your hips, holding you down on him as he grinds into you, his tip poking your insides in such a way that you have to grip onto the sheets in front of you for dear life.

He breaks the silence, finally letting out his own deep breath. “Y/n, holy fucking shit.”

“Mm-hmm,” you agree, unable to manage any real words yet.

“Dear Yoba, please,” he whines, “please.”

“Please what?” you inquire, smirking to yourself.

His palm meets your ass with a swift smack. “Don’t be a brat.”

“Use your words,” you tease mockingly.

Sebastian easily lifts your hips, nearly pulling you all the way off his cock before pulling them back down abruptly and you fight off a yelp, coming out instead as a pornographic moan. “Don’t be a brat,” he repeats, emphasizing each word with quick shallow thrusts. You take over, moving yourself up and down his length as he watches, clingy fingers digging into your ass and prodding at your hole sliding along his cock, wetness dripping out as he fills up all the space in your cunt with each thrust.

You roll your hips as you bounce on top of Sebastian, positioning him to hit your g-spot each time you sink down. You squeeze your breasts and rub at your clit as you fuck yourself, head rolling back. Seb reaches up, gripping onto your hair cascading down your body to keep you in place, back arched as his hips meet yours. They roam you with abandon, taking the opportunity to grope you in all the ways the man can think of. As your moans get louder, he attempts to take more control until he finally pulls you off him.

He presses a firm hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to your elbows. As he kneels behind you, his cock begs entrance to your soaked pussy and he pushes in with ease. Though you’d gotten used to his girth, even a few seconds of emptiness had nearly reset you and you have to readjust to him. He barely gives you enough time before picking up the pace and burying your face into the blankets below you. You tilt your head to the side, cheek pressed harshly onto the bed as you admire Seb fucking you from behind.

His dark hair is pushed back, revealing most of his face for a change. The studs in his ears reflect the moonlight filtering in through the window near the bed, muscles glistening similarly in sweat. His face is twisted in concentration and pleasure, focused on keeping up the rapid thrusting of his hips and pleasuring you while holding back his own orgasm. You suck in a breath, biting on your lip as you take in the beautiful man bringing you closer and closer to the edge, his fingers leaving bruises on your hips.

Seb notices you staring and he can’t fight back the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. “Hi baby,” he purrs, giving your lower back a soft stroke. “Feel good?”

“Yeah-h,” you manage.

“Me too, so fucking good. Fucking tight and wet, all for me, yeah?”

You nod fervently. “All for you. Y’r cock s’fucking big.”

“Taking it so good.” Sebastian’s thrusts have slowed into harsh, deep ones that fill you entirely. You grip the blankets in your fists, knuckles turning white. “Getting close?” You nod again, pathetically, starting to melt into him. All you can think of is the pleasure he’s giving you and you’ll do anything to feel it and ride out your orgasm with it.

“G’nna cum f’r me?” he asks again, leaning down to rub harshly at your clit. “Cum all over mm’ cock?”

“Yes, Seb!” you cry.

“Wanna feel you soak me, princess,” he commands, lips sprinkling wet kisses along your spine. “Pussy g’nna be so filled with our cum soon, yeah? ‘M gonna watch it drip out, kay?”

The knot growing in your stomach since the moment he kissed you reaches its height and you feel it snap all at once, a moment of serenity before your orgasm floods over you. You arch your back and let out strangled cries, letting all the words in your brain come tumbling out from your lips in a slurred mess. “Sebbyyy!” you groan as his fingers press into your hips tighter. “Y’make me feel s’fucking good, fuck! Please fill me Sebby.”

He groans, leaning further down against your back as he releases, whimpering mixes of your name and sweet pet names as he unloads into your cunt. His grunts turn to moans and whimpers in your ear as he finishes, hips gradually coming to a stop as you both come down from your highs. “Holy fuck,” he finally sighs, his body weight fully on you now.

“Fuck,” you sniffle, breathing labored.

You two lie on the bed for a minute, only focused on catching your breath as your sweaty bodies stick to one another. You can feel Sebastian’s dick slowly shrink inside you, blood flow directing back to his brain. Finally, he carefully peels himself away, pulling himself out of you. Seb ushers you back up on your knees, earning a groan but reluctant compliance. He sits back and admires the mess left on his cock, admires it dripping out of your used pussy. He uses two fingers to swipe the wet, then reaches around and rests it against your bottom lip. “Have a taste, hmm?”

You open your mouth and he wastes no time resting his fingers against your tongue. Your lips close around him, sucking the mix of your cum from him and humming at the sweet and saltiness. It tastes like pure desire and dirtiness, a final reminder of your time together as his half-hard length rests against your ass before he pulls away.

Your legs shaky, you finally roll over and collapse on your back, Seb following your lead and lying next to you. “Second thoughts?” he asks, looking over at you.

“Fuck no,” you grin. “You?”

“Fuck no.” He wraps a lazy arm around you. “If I could, I’d do it again right now.”

You nod, turning to nuzzle your face against the side of his neck as your eyelids flutter closed. “Staying?” you mumble.

“Have to go home,” Seb groans. “You need your sleep and I don’t think I can accommodate that for very long.” You wrap your arms around him in protest, but he easily breaks through as he sits up, looking down at your spent, naked body. “I think I’ll see you tomorrow though, yeah?”

You smile, gathering the willpower to gaze up at him. One side of his face is covered in the shadows, but the other is illuminated by the moonlight sneaking through the window and you wish you could stay in this moment a little longer and just look at him. The sharp bones over his eyes and along his jaw, toned arms holding himself up, scattered hairs along his torso pointing to the object of your desire as it drapes over his inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you belatedly agree.

“Call me in the morning. Let me know if you need any help covering this up.” Seb reaches down and gently strokes a tender spot on your neck, realizing it must be bruising from the force of his teeth and lips earlier. “I can probably ask Abi for some advice.”

Sebastian begins picking up piles of clothing from the floor, pulling on his boxers, jeans, and hoodie before sliding his sneakers back on. Holding a dark black t-shirt in his hand, he offers it to you. “Put this on so you don’t freeze tonight.” You take it gingerly. Leaning down to pepper your lips with soft kisses, Seb finally makes his exit with a quiet goodbye and you drift to sleep, surrounded by his scent.

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