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januaryembrs · 6 months ago

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JUST A THEORY | Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: congratulations on 2k!!! you deserve that and so much more your writing is incredible! 🥳🥳🥳 if I could jump in with a request could I ask for a Spencer x reader fic where the reader is a journalist/reporter looking into a case as well and they cross paths? I think the tension and bickering would be so fun

Description: There's something about that agent Jennifer brought along with her that pushes every single one of your buttons

Length: 1.6k

warnings: general cm violence, probably not em's best work

“You know this could be considered obstructing a federal investigation,” Spencer huffed, trying to look over your shoulder where you skimmed the book in your hands with meticulous eyes. You ignored him, continuing to read the information despite feeling his burning glare in the back of your head, his breath on your neck as he shadowed your figure around the building.

“You know the best part about a public library, Doctor Reid? It’s public,” You drawled back, your eyes never ripping from the page except to make a few notes of some key information for your article, “Which means I have every right to be in here just as much as you do,”

You heard him run a hand over his face and tried not to smirk at how easy he was to agitate. You’d heard a lot about the BAU, almost every criminology based paper in Virginia had, and so it wasn’t too surprising to meet the brains behind the reputation when three women had been murdered in the FBI’s home town. Every press association that was worth their money was all over the story, ‘How could this have happened so close to the capital in a city crawling with agents?’, which made your job just that bit more competitive and taxing.

Yet luckily for you, you knew exactly where to go snooping for answers. It just so happened, the BAU’s resident genius did too.

“I guarantee it would be easier for both of us if you just give me the book first. I can read ten times faster than you,” He snipped, still a pup at your heels where you wandered through the aisles of non-fiction, the white lettering hanging above the shelves spelling PSYCHOLOGY. You rolled your eyes at his persistence, ignoring his attitude as you rounded the corner at the end of the row and looped back to where you’d picked up the book, the man still over your shoulder.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you you’re not supposed to talk in libraries?” You hissed back, flicking the page over and hearing his footsteps move in tandem with your own, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait and let the professionals work,”

You hid a grin, hearing him pause at that, remembering the first day you’d been assigned the story.

It started only a week ago. The newest victim had been found in the woods, stabbed seven times the same as the other two, her entire body washed in strong bleach, her hair and nails trimmed and ears even swabbed clean. You’d managed to get five minutes to sit with her parents, your pen and trusted notebook at the ready.

“Why don’t you tell me about what Clara was like as a kid?” You said softly, eyes comforting and calm as you spoke over coffee that was quickly going cold. But you didn’t care.

You didn’t do this part for ‘the story’. At least not the end of the story, the gory bits and pieces that the other news anchors focused on, how the women were brutalised and beaten, changed by a murderer until they looked unrecognisable. You didn’t like to focus on that, because that wasn’t who the victims were.

You wanted to tell their story. Who they were before something awful happened to them.

“She loved to dance,” Clara’s mother, Gwen, sniffled, her cheeks sodden with salted tears. Her voice quivered, croaked like it begged not to be used, but the saddest smile spread on her face when she said it, her husband’s hands clasped tightly in her own, “She used to ask to wear her leotard to bed; we couldn't get that thing off her,”

You smiled, eyes falling to the pictures the parents had spread across the table in their haste to find the best one for the missing posters. Gwen seemed to follow your eyeline and grabbed one in particular, handing it over to you, gently thumbing the edges like that too might disappear. A little girl, black hair as silken as fresh ink stared back at you, her hands poised delicately above her head like the professional ballerina’s you'd seen on TV, her feet laced into pink pumps. The way she should be remembered, not the images you’d seen of her at the crime scene.

You opened your mouth to speak again when two agents entered the room. Jennifer Jareau, who you’d worked with on multiple stories like this one to give the families the empathy they deserved, smiled at you civilly, somewhat guilty knowing she was stepping on your toes. Beside her stood a taller man in a matching FBI jacket, his hazelnut curls falling over his frown.

“Mr and Mrs Townsen,” He addressed the couple solemnly, who looked up at him through red rimmed eyes, their sockets sallow and empty, “We need to ask you a few questions about the last few days you saw Clara before she went missing,”

He flashed his credentials in his right hand, long enough for them to see it was real, and looked to you with a stern stare.

The couple glanced back to you, the picture still grasped tightly in your fingers, as you flicked a tight look between Jennifer and the new agent carefully.

“Just one moment,” You told the grieving parents softly, handing the picture back to Gwen, standing to move to one side with the analysts, immediately turning towards Jennifer with confusion, “I thought you said I had until twelve?”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important,” The liaison said cordially, the two of you somewhat acquaintances after emailing back and forth for so long. She liked that you didn’t see the bodies as dollar signs, and you liked that she wanted the same as you; to tell the victims stories the way they should be told.

Sighing, you wrapped up your notepad, delicately pushing the pen through the wire spine. “Can I get an interview with the second family at least? Daily Press was all over that story, and they made an absolute joke of it,”

“That’s a little hypocritical of you,” The other agent piped up, and your head snapped to him. Eyes roving over his figure, brows furrowing when you realised what he’d said. You looked back to his face in annoyance.

“Excuse me?” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest, your notepad brushing against your ribs.

“I’m just saying, you all get paid for what you write, so it's just as exploitive to write about the victims than it is to write about the crimes,” He shrugged, eyes narrowing when you shifted your weight onto your other foot and raised a brow at him.

“Unlike you,” Your gaze fell to his badge he still had to hand, “Doctor Reid, I see those women as real people, not just little pictures on a white board. They’re not just dead girls to me, and they’re certainly not just money grabs,”

Spencer went to retaliate again before JJ put a hand on both your elbows, drawing the attention away from your little spat.

“We can talk about this later, right now we have an UnSub on the loose that is quickly devolving,” She chided the two of you like you were school children, and you sighed, biting your cheek to stop yourself from snapping back at the man.

“What does that mean?” You asked quietly, well aware of the grieving parents sitting little more than a few yards from where you stood bickering.

“It means you’re going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” Spencer cleared, pushing past your shoulder as he went to sit with the Townsens, his eyes swirling into something new and kind and reassuring as he looked at them, a Jekyll and Hyde to the hostility he had towards you.

You could only suck your teeth in annoyance, before Jennifer pulled you further into the dining room to discuss rearrangements.

Spencer blanked as he watched you skim reading the textbook, his own words thrown back in his face in an infuriatingly clever move on your part. With little more to say, knowing wit and barking orders would get him nowhere because he couldn’t exactly arrest you for not giving him public property, he resorted to begging.

“Please, give me the book,” He said, the desperation buried in his sigh, and you swivelled on your heels, a devilish grin on your face that had him fighting back an eye roll.

“Oh, would you look at that? I’m finished,” You said, handing him the files you were reading, passing them over to him with a smirk and he found himself almost smiling at your sarcasm.

Taking the book out of your hand, he debated saying thank you, but instead bit his lip because he'd found you were somewhat incorrigible when you were getting deeper in a story.

Turning on his heels to check out the book so he could take it back to headquarters, he stopped when you spoke, just a few decibels louder than the ‘Talk Quietly’ sign demanded.

“Agalmatophilia,” You murmured, and he whipped a look over his shoulders where you were skimming the shelves for a second textbook, seeing as your first one had been commandeered, “The sexual attraction to dolls and mannequins. I know you guys speculated he has some form of OCD but I think it's Agalmatophilia,” You said, drawing a book off the shelf without really looking up to where his brow furrowed in familiarity with the word. He glanced at you then, and you flicked open the page of contents, feeling his eyes boring into the side of your head, muttering under your breath absent-mindedly, “Just a theory,”

You’d shut him up the entire way back to headquarters.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #matthew grey gubler x reader

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hayatoseyepatch · 14 days ago

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𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: You swore grief followed you like a cloud. Losing those who you loved at every turn, but there was one positive at least you had Bachira to turn to for comfort. But you were soon to find out the mysterious deaths surrounding you werent such a mystery afterall. 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Meguru Bachira (Blue Lock) 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.9k 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Fem!Reader x Yandere!Bachira. ⚠️NSFW Dark Content⚠️. 𝕮𝖔𝖓��𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Knife play, stalking, NONCON, mentions of voyeurism, gas lighting, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, blood, oral (fem!receiving), pussy slapping, degrading, mind break.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: WE DID IT YALL! We have officially made it to the end of Kinktober!! This was my first time taking a stab (hehe) at this challenge and we may have had a few hiccups along the way, but we got here! I really wanted to end this month with a bang! So this is probably the most intense of the ones on this list. For this one more than all of the others, please be mindful of the tags. This is the most intense and dark fic I’ve done this month. You are responsible for the content you consume, if this is not for you please have a look at my complete masterlist for Kinktober here. This is also my second submission for the "No, You Hang Up" Ghostface server collab that I'm hosting with our other server owner @rindous-starlight I really hope you enjoy and thank you for sticking with me through it! Merry Samhein/Happy Halloween my loves!

Bachira’s eyes were locked on you, unblinking. His gaze was so intense he was surprised that you didn’t feel it through the glass of your window. You were so trusting, but oh so naïve. Not thinking for a moment that your sweet, ditzy, neighbor had such a deep-seated obsession with you. Couldn’t imagine that nearly nightly he sat by his window, the same one that was directly across from yours, eyes locked on your frame. As you changed, danced around, scrolled through your phone, and especially late at night when you let your hands roam your body. To Bachira, in his twisted mind, this was all intentional. Because for what other reason would you, in clear view with your blinds open, let your fingers sink into your delicious cunt? To Bachira he took it as you simply teasing him. Aching for him to make the first move.

You had moved to this neighborhood nearly a year ago. And you would be lying if you said it had been an easy year. The past year had tested you to the extreme. Within only a month your long-term boyfriend went missing. You and Reo had been together for almost ten years, high school sweethearts. You didn’t know what you would do, he had been all you’ve ever known. After spending weeks worried sick, never stopping looking for him, his body had turned up in the middle of the woods. Murdered. You couldn’t imagine who could do such a thing. Bachira had happened to return to his home when you were just wrapping up talking to the police, offering you a kind smile and a warm hug.

Bachira.

You don’t know what you would have done without him this past year. He had been there for you all through your grief, comforting you every step along the way. Despite what anyone said, you were eternally grateful for the sweet man. You best friend, Karasu, hadn’t liked him. Claiming something about “the guy’s vibe being off” and that he “seemed happy with your boyfriend out of the picture”. You two had gotten into an argument that night, after telling Bachira about your squabble the next day you were certain he was right.

Karasu had never liked Reo, claiming you could do so much better. That he and his best friend Nagi’s relationship was weird. But, no, Bachira was right he was projecting. Projecting that Bachira was the one happy Re was out of the picture when it was really him. That didn’t mean that he deserved what happened to him, however. You spent too many nights lying awake relaying the last conversation you both had on repeat. Screaming back and forth before he stormed out. Sure he had been so nasty to Bachira, who all he wanted was to be there for you, but he didn’t deserve…

He didn’t deserve to die.

Enough time had passed since Reo’s passing that you had begun to consider moving on. After Reo, and now Karasu, your late boyfriend’s best friend had begun checking on you more frequently. You weren't sure how it happened, maybe because you were missing Reo and being with Nagi felt like there was still a piece of him left behind. The both of you seek comfort in each other, eventually escalating, blossoming into a bit of an arrangement. The both of you weren't dating by any means, more seeking a body to keep the bed (and your cunt) warm. And it was working, going so well. It was nice having Nagi around, a familiar face you had known for so many years. Not having to rely on Bachira so much.

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the sweet man’s presence, but you were starting to feel guilt for leaning on him so heavily. Bachira had been there for you through both tragedies this past year, now being your only friend in the world with the recent developments in you and Nagi’s relationship. When you had moved here, it was a distance away from your family. Having moved here to be closer to Reo’s work. Karasu was a good enough friend that he had found an apartment nearby, not wanting you to be so far away with no one. But, with him gone now too, it seemed like all you had was Bachira and Nagi. You were so grateful for Bachira’s presence, so lucky to have him in your life.

But oh how wrong had you been.

You wished you had listened to Karasu, that you had never moved here in the first place. Not as your feet slammed against the hardwood of the spacious home left to you in Reo’s absence. Not as you had come home that day to see your couch stained in his blood, his lifeless body being hovered over by the mysterious masked killer. And certainly not as the same man chased you throughout your home, his manic laughter seeming all too familiar. Once you were sure you had put enough distance between you both you ran toward your bedroom, slipping inside your closet.

That had been your first mistake.

The hand you had clamped over your mouth must have not been doing its job well enough

“Come on out, honeybee. I just wanna talk. I promise I wont hurt you, I’d never hurt you. I love you.”

You froze in place where you were hidden, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You knew that voice. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening …Bachira?

You let out an audible gasp, in hindsight that was most likely what had led him to your hiding spot. You let out a scream as the closet door is thrown open, mask discarded from his face now, allowing you to take him in. Crazed look in those honey-colored eyes you had grown to feel so safe when looking into, now causing bile to rise in your throat. Blood staining his hands and smeared on his cheek. Knife tossed aside somewhere on the bed as he collects you into his arms. An embrace where you once felt safe, now making you feel trapped, fear creeping up your spine. You let out a full body shudder as his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck.

“There you are my honey bee. Are you done hiding from me now?” His words come out muffled against your skin, tears pricking the back of your eyes.

“Bachira…why?”

His grip tightens on your figure, surely displeased with your words. His hand coming to your face in a harsh grip, eyes narrowed when looking into yours.

“Meguru.” He nearly growls. “You call me Meguru. People who are in love call each other by their first names. Now say it.”

You let out a hush whimper of his name and that seems to snap him back into his bubbly personality. Before you could comprehend what was happening his lips collided with yours, his tongue invading your mouth. Walking you backward until your knees hit the back of the mattress, causing you to fall back your body hitting the plush mattress with hm still on top of you You whimper, low and in the back of your throat, weakly trying to push him off of you.

“Please… Meguru, stop.”

This seems to upset him one again, his fingers curling around the bladed weapon that lay discarded on your mattress. You felt the cold blade caress the side of your face, cold metal, sliding down the column of your throat. His lips pressed to your ear as he speaks.

“It’s a shame what happened to your boyfriend.” Bachira purred, hand still coated in Nagi’s blood, caressing the side of your face. “All those muscles didn’t help much.”

You feel sick to your stomach, the knife against your throat a reminder of what could happen if you continue to disobey him. You shudder as his hand moves swiftly, cutting through the fabric of your dress and bra, eyes locked on your now-exposed chest. Hearing is mumbled ‘so beautiful. Before he ducked down, capturing one of your nipples between his soft lips. The hand not still holding the knife thumbs your neglected bud to a peak before pinching it between blood-stained digits. With every touch to your skin, more of the evidence of what he had down stains your body. He pays attention to your sensitive buds, grinding his hips into your own. You know you should feel appalled, feel disgusted that the very man who had caused you so much grief was on top of you. Touching you.

So why did it feel so good?

Why did you crave more of his touch?

Why were your hips meeting his own?

Perhaps it had been because it had been a while since you had been touched like this. Nagi found most things to be a hassle, often falling asleep almost immediately after he came. Whatever the reason you were mortified to find yourself craving more. Allowing him to slip your clothes properly off of your body. Not fighting when his lips traveled down your frame. And certainly not when he used his index and middle fingers parted your folds so he cold duck his head down and lick a fat stripe up your soaked cunt. Bachira’s body had a visceral reaction to your taste, burying his face in your cunt, his tongue alternating between licking fat stripes against your clit to pointed circles tracing shapes against the bundle of nerves. His hips grind desperately against the mattress in search of friction to his achingly hard cock. But his head was too pussy drunk already, your taste having his eyes rolling back in his head, eating you like a man starved. Like his life depended on the sustenance of your juices.

He leans back after a moment, admiring you being so exposed for him, hand rearing back to slap your exposed cunt. You cry out, pain immediately being replaced with pleasure as he dives back down, burying this face into your folds once more. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit. You whine, the warmth contrasting to the cold of the room. You’re shaking, trying to hold the position he’s placed you in.

Hands gripping your waist tighter than before, which you were sure would leave imprints, if not bruises on your skin in the morning. Lips attach to your clit, tongue flicking rapidly, only pausing to occasionally bite or suck on the sensitive flesh. Your hips pick up speed, practically riding his tongue as your hips buck against his face. The familiar feeling of warmth spreads throughout your stomach, your body hurtling toward your orgasm at an alarming rate. Bachira feels your thighs spasm, both hands now gripping your ass, to pull your cunt down further onto his face, head bobbing to coax you into cumming for him. You release with a scream, thighs trapping his head between your legs, only releasing once you’ve come done from your high. Your chest rising and falling with heavy pats, not noticing Bachira throwing the cloak off of his body, freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. Only snapping back into reality as you feel the drag of his cock between your folds, the tip of him nudging your entrance, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Now, be a good girl and scream for me, yeah?”

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @umemiaa @stunies @eevees-hobbies @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

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slutfactory · 1 year ago

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‘MILKING’ COW. ★ w. ushijima x m!reader. [requested!]

request by anon. “Ayo, idk if ur reqs are open, but can i request a cow Ushijima fic? Kinda down bad for him. Nothing specific so do whatever! Ty!

warnings. cow!ushi + m!farmer!reader, animal features (cow ears n horns), light overstimulation. nothin much tbh, just soft(?) sex w ushi. <3

author's note. same, anon. same. we love ushi gushi on this blog. also, soft boi hours + horny hours actually go pretty well together?? who would've thunk it?

<500 words yeh kinda short

you couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something about this felt oddly.. backwards..??

ushijima, as he had been doing for the past fifteen minutes, whorishly bounced up and down on your cock. even after both of you having orgasmed not too long ago, he didn't stop—

—oh. right. he was milking you. that's what it was.

wet plap noises, along with wakatoshi's mewls of pleasure filled the room, echoing against the walls. feeling a bit too sensitive, you stopped him, holding his hips in place when he lowered himself. the sight of your beloved, prized cow breeding himself on your cock and moaning like a slut was almost enough to make you cum again. right then and there.

the olive haired man looked at you, eyes filled with pure lust and desire. “i wan’ more.. please-.. ” he whined, squirming on your lap—you stifled a groan at this. “milking master feels so good.. ”

your dick twitched, hearing ushijima's pleas. he was so cute, and that made you want to ruin him. but, he wanted to be the one to do the milking this time—and after hearing him beg, you just couldn't say no. honestly, how could you? why would you?

releasing ushi's hips, you gave him an approving nod. he let out a few whines, quiet at first, but slowly increasing in volume, as he began to move again; at the same speed he did before you stopped him. you in turn, let out your own share of grunts and moans, much to his pleasure.

apparently, ushijima was also sensitive after orgasming earlier– or at least you assumed that from how his inner walls twitched and tightened around your shaft much more than before. adorable. “gonna cum already, baby?” he nodded, holding onto your shoulders a little tighter. “me too. let's cum together, 'kay?” you purred.

about thirty seconds of sloppy riding passed before ushijima came, spilling his load on his and your stomachs. this did not stop him, though—he was overstimulating himself now, but he wanted you to cum inside of him.

you of course granted his wish, as his cunt tightened around you as he continued riding you; which almost immediately brought you to orgasm. a strained groan left your lips as you did so. wakatoshi let out a broken whine as he felt your hot seed filling him up inside. “'s so hot.. ngh.. ” he muttered while trying to catch his breath. “master felt good too, right?”

also breathless, you chuckled softly and kissed his forehead. “of course, honey.” again, you chuckled, seeing his ears twitch slightly as his face lit up—seemingly with happiness and a bit of embarrassment. ushi buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you tried to ignore one of his horns lightly stabbing at your skin.

“c'mon. we have to clean up. i'll make your favorite food for dinner, alright?” you pat him on the head. a content 'mm.' was all you got in response.

#🎬 slutfactory productions #top male reader #seme male reader #x male reader #top reader #dom reader #dom male reader #sub haikyuu #haikyuu smut #ushijima x male reader #ushijima thirsts #ushijima smut #male reader smut #male reader insert #male reader #haikyuu x male reader

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waltat04-kevinknight · 6 months ago

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Just a sneak peek at a Jaune x Kali fic I'm working on

It was a somber day in Menagerie, as the previous white fang leader and loving husband was found dead with two sword stabs through his head. The entire nation was saddened and mourning the death of Ghira Belladonna. His now Widowed wife had locked herself away in her now empty estate and spent her days crying, that was until she heard a knock at the door. Getting up and walking to the door, she opened it and saw her daughter, and what she would assume was her friend.

“Oh hello Blake sweetheart and this is?” Kali asked as Blake looked at Jaune.

“Mom, this is Jaune, my friend from Beacon.” Blake replied.

“Hello Ms.Belladonna it's nice to meet you” Jaune says with a soft smile.

“Greetings Jaune, Blake I'm assuming you're here for your father's death..?” Kali asked, causing Blake to nod.

“I'm truly sorry to both of you for your loss” Jaune said, placing his hand on his chest.

“Thank you Jaune, I appreciate you coming along with me” Blake says walking inside her house leading Jaune in as well.

Kali led the two into the living room and sat down on the couch, while Blake and Jaune sat on the other couch.

“They still haven't found the murderer of Ghira all they know is that he was stabbed twice by a thin blade.” Kali says with a heavy sigh.

“What about Adam?” Blake asked.

“No he himself came forth and admitted that while he didn't agree with how Ghira ran things when he was in charge, he would never take Ghira's life.” Kali explains causing Blake to sigh and nod.

“Jaune, can you stay with my mom while I track down my father's killer?” Blake asked.

“Yeah of course, you focus on finding who took your dad's life” Jaune says as Blake hugs him.

The hug was short as Blake walked out of the estate and closed the door, leaving Jaune and Kali by themselves.

“I appreciate you staying with me Jaune.” Kali says, wiping a tear away.

“It's no problem Mrs.Belladonna, it's the least I could do” Jaune says, picking up a box of tissues and handing it to Kali, who would take a tissue and wipe her tears.

She smiles and throws the tissue in the trash can and looks back at Jaune, it takes a few seconds before she speaks again.

“Blake told me about how you lost someone during the Fall, are you doing alright?” Kali asked Jaune who was surprised by the question.

“I'm doing my best, it's all we can do. I'm not gonna say I'm over it but I have to move on someday.” Jaune says smiling.

Kali smiles back at him as she stands up and walks over to Jaune.

“I'll show you to the guest room.” Kali says walking to the hall, which Jaune follows her.

Once at the door Kali opens the door and Jaune walks in, setting his bag on the table. He looked around the room smiling and then turned to Kali. “Thank you Ms. Belladonna” Jaune says to her with a smile.

“Of course but please call me Kali” She says leaving the room and going to hers and once he was alone he laid down on the bed and fell asleep.

_________

A few days have passed Jaune helped comfort Kali with the passing of her husband and the two grew a small friendly bond, with Jaune cleaning up the estate and even cooking for Kali and himself. Jaune hummed as he walked past Kali's room and noticed the door was open and knocked on the door, which after a few seconds he was met by Kali. Wearing a nightgown.

“Oh hello Jaune what can I do for you?” Kali asked him with a soft smile.

“Sorry I saw your door open so I wanted to make sure everything was alright” Jaune says with a smile on his face.

“You're sweet” Kali says leaning against her door while staring into his eyes.

“By the way, Blake called saying she's made some headway into finding your husband's killer” Jaune says resulting in a soft smile from Kali.

“That's good” She says looking up at Jaune before looking away.

“No matter what I do Jaune, I can't stop thinking about Ghira…I miss him, I know I need to move on but-” Kali says before she stops feeling Jaune put a hand on her shoulder.

“No no I get it, it's going to be hard but I'll be here no matter what” Jaune says as Kali hugs Jaune tightly.

Jaune wrapped his arms around Kali as the two shared a tender deep hug for a few moments before they broke the hug off looking at each other.

“Jaune, would you mind staying in my room tonight? I could use the company” Kali asked him knowing he probably would say no and she wouldn't blame him if he did.

“Sure I-I don't mind” He said, which took Kali by surprise before she took hold of his hand and led him inside and closed the room door behind him.

Once inside the room he noticed how massive the bed was, then again Jaune remembered Blake told him how big and bulky her father was so his surprise quickly went away. Kali let go of his hand and sat on the bed and untied her robe letting Jaune see her lingerie nightgown making him blush and look away out of respect.

“Jaune, you don't have to look away” She said softly, “Please come and help me..~” She begged him.

“But you're Blake's mom I can't do that with you” Jaune says as Kali grabs his hand and pulls him on top of her.

“You promised you'd help me and what does your family never do?” Kali says, causing Jaune's eyes to widen.

“Never go back on a promise” He says making Kali smile.

“Besides, Jaune you've been nothing but help this past week…and I've couldn't take my eyes off you. I don't know why but you remind me of my husband in so many ways…” Kali says, placing her hands on his cheeks before pulling him in for a deep tender kiss.

Jaune didn't know how to respond until he found himself lost in the kiss as he moves his hands onto Kali's hips and turns causing Kali to down be on top of him as the two continue the tender kiss, while Jaune swirls his tongue around Kali's tongue starting to French kiss her. Kali was enjoying this, she didn't feel lonely anymore, she had someone here with her now and knew how to kiss so well. Kali would break the kiss and get off of Jaune still blushing as she bends over and takes off her lace lingerie panties revealing her slightly wet pussy to Jaune.

“C-Could you eat me out p-please” Kali asked shyly as Jaune stood up and walked over to Kali and put his hand on her kisses her neck while fondling her massive ass.

“Of course Kali” Jaune says guiding Kali back to the bed, laying her down and getting between her legs as he started to lick her milf pussy.

Once she felt his tongue lick her entrance she let out a breath while Jaune gripped her thighs and began to kiss, lick, and suck on Kali's pussy while Kali moaned loudly. He then mainly stuck to sucking on her clit as he shoved his tongue into her pussy making her squirm as she felt Jaune eat her pussy.

“F-Fuck I'm gonnn-!” She started moaning before she squirted over Jaune's mouth.

Jaune moves his lips away from her pussy and stands back up, a hard on in his pants in full view as he wipes his lips.

“T-Thank you for that J-Jaune” She says looking at him before her eyes notice his bulge in his pants.

She sat up and unzipped his pants and pulled down along with his boxers allowing his dick to fling out.

‘Oh God's his dick… it rivals the size and girth of Ghira's… and its scent’ she thought, smelling it as she could get enough.

She didn't wait as she shoved his dick into her mouth and began sucking like a rabbit in heat while she used one hand to jerk Jaune off while she gave him one wild blowjob. Jaune on the other hand bit his lip while watching Kali suck him off, the view of her big milkers bouncing only made him more horny for the Widowed milf. With her other hand she grabbed Jaune's hand and put it on her head, implying he wanted him to guide her, own her.

He put his other hand on her head and began thrusting, causing Kali to gag for a second before she adjusted to the speed Jaune was going at.

‘God's he's even rougher than Ghira was, he is perfect~!’ She thought to herself as she put her hands behind her head as Jaune kept thrusting using her mouth.

Jaune kept thrusting before he held her head against his lower area and cums in her throat and pulls his cock out of her mouth. Kali closes her mouth and swallows his cum and opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out seductively before closing her mouth again.

“Kali I want you to ride my cock and slam that fat ass on it until you can't no more” Jaune says sitting next to her well laying down next to her.

Kali felt herself get hotter from how he ordered her as she got on him immediately and lined his cock with her pussy and slid down on her as she shook her head while moaning loudly before slamming already down on his cock. She felt Jaune grab her head and pull her down into a deep French kiss as she started bouncing her massive ass on his dick just like he asked. She breaks the kiss as their tongues were inches apart as she stared into his eyes with a mix of lust and love while still slamming her pussy down on his dick, she could feel his dick stretching her more just making her bounce faster.

“F-Fuck fuck fuck fuck~!” Kali moaned as she kept riding Jaune's dick while Jaune moved his hands onto her hips making her bounce even more.

“Such an eager woman you are Kali” Jaune says as Kali had imaginary hearts in her eyes as she bounced even harder.

“Y-Yes I am~! Please fill. Me. up~!” She moans as she slammed down once more as Jaune moved his hands from her hips and back to her head and pulled her in for a kiss as he cums in her pussy, filling her womb up.

She slowly slides off his dick and gets off the bed and looks at Jaune's cum covered cock and bites her lip as she watches Jaune stand up and put his hands on her hips and kisses her, making him melt in his touch. She turns around and bends over placing her hands on the wall as she shakes her ass.

“Show me more fun… Daddy~” She said seductively as within a few seconds Jaune was behind her and shoved his dick back into her pussy, gripped her hips and began thrusting quickly and roughly.

Kali couldn't help but moan as Jaune used her pussy, and did she enjoy how rough he was being with her. She didn't care for soft sex she wanted it hard and rough, all boxes Jaune were checking.

“You're so wet, it makes it easier for me to rail this pussy made by the gods!” He moaned as he delivered a harsh smack to one of Kali's ass cheeks making it jiggle and Kali moan louder.

“Yes Oh God's fuck keep going~!” Kali moaned and Jaune did just that and kept thrusting like there was no tomorrow.

Jaune smacked her juicy ass once more, making her moan even louder as she looked back at him with a lustful seductive stare in his eyes. He kept thrusting and her stare only made him go rougher with her and after a few more moments he slammed against her cervix and cummed, filling her womb once again. He pulled out and back up falling onto the bed as Kali walked over to him and laid beside him and pecked his cheek and cuddled up next to him.

#jaune arc #kali belladonna #jaune x kali #rwby lemon #rwby smut #blake belladonna

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costelloschoice · 9 months ago

Note

I absolutely adore your fics and was thinking about a Yandere Mizu fanfic idea (if you like the idea as well of course) Keep up the good work you're amazing 🥰💜

-Thank you for the request, i made a little something short yet sweet <3 -sorry it took so long, I managed to fuck up my legs by falling from ice (don't ask) so i've been focusing on feeling better :}

Red Means I Love You Yandere!Mizu x fem!reader -warnings: toxic behavior, possessive over reader -hope you enjoy :]

She never felt this way about anyone else. It was scary.

Mizu believed that love wasn't for her. Love was harsh to her, least till you came along. You were such a breath of fresh air, a beautiful rose in a garden of weeds. And she wanted your sweetness all to herself.

You were like a small deer. A fragile and gentle being. Something so pure and sweet, weak and defenseless. So pretty up close but easily scared…Yet she managed to get close to this deer. And you didn’t run away…In fact you decided to come closer to her. She was a hunter, killing many, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate your beauty.

She thought she had a little crush on you. I mean, you were so nice to her and showed her kindness that she always dreamed of. But seeing how Taigen would try to flirt with you, made her feel an unbridled rage. How the hell does this man think he is? First, he has Akemi and now you? No. He doesn’t get to have who ever he wants. Maybe because of Mizu’s childhood he tortured her, but he doesn’t deserve a girl like you.

Mizu would Taigen away, threating him to stay away from you. That Mizu knows men like him will use someone as beautiful as you. Everything about you was perfect, Mizu couldn't find a flaw if she tried. It seems like you've stolen her heart from her. Taigen would get offended and walk away. Like a buck trying to win over a doe deer but failing due to the human the deer was so close to.

In her eyes, no one could be around you or talk to you for too long. She would barely let Taigen speak to you and Ringo was allowed to talk to you and only to help you with an injuries.

When Boss Hamata sent his men to attack Mizu and the women at the tea house, she tried to protect you the best she could. You refused to stay in the basement and help Mizu fight against the corrupted boss and his men. She told you to stay back and hide with the rest...but of course you didn't listen.

You were a foolish girl, but like all humans, we make mistakes.

You were on the ground, bloodied and you tried to stop the man’s katana from going into you. From the blood spots, it looks like you were getting weaker and weaker by the second and wouldn’t be able to last any longer. You were a poor, helpless baby dear against the big bad wolf…You couldn’t find this man off alone. It was pathetic, but in a cute way.

Mizu, trying to have a grip on the situation, immediately went after the man. Ripping the man off of you before stabbing him repeatedly. She was the hunter who took the wolf down to protect her doe deer. She didn’t care if he was dead, she just kept stabbing till her anger subsided.

Now covered in this man’s blood, she turns to see you. You looked petrified. She thought it was because of the man but really it was because of her. She was used to everyone looking at her that way…but your gaze hurt the most. Her deer was surely to run off in the woods and never been seen again from her.

“Oh my dove..” Mizu spoke, moving to you. Her bloody hand caressed your cheek. The smell of iron was thick and heavy, making you flinch and gag internally. You were disgusted by these actions, her violent and ruthless killing. Yes he hurt you but at some point it’s uncalled for….but bigger shouldn’t be choicers.

“You’re safe..” she whispered, placing a kissing to your forehead. A red lip print on your forehead. It felt so wrong but nice after your near death experience.

“My small doe…You’re mine to protect..” she whispered into your skin, continuing to place kisses on your forehead.

“You’re mine.”

She said with aggression present in her tone. You just nodded, what else could you do? She could easily hurt you is you protested. You didn’t wish to die at the hands of your protector.

“I’m yours…”

“All mine..” she mumbled. Mizu caressed the soft hair of her doe deer, calming down the easily frightened creature. She perfect, sweet, weak and fragile deer now safe in her arms again, where she belongs.

#bes mizu #mizu x reader #bes #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu x you #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai x you #wlw

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crystalrabbit246912 · 3 months ago

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Bookbinder Yuu

So I should probably be focusing on my thank you fic for 1000 likes and 25 reblogs (there's probably more than that, but Tumblr only tells me about milestones, so thank you all so much for all of the likes, reblogs, and comments), but I had a thought and it's not leaving my mind, so I figured I might as well make this.

I've been getting into bookbinding lately (the process of making books) and I started imagining if Yuu was a bookbinder and their bookbinding tools got transported Twisted Wonderland along with them.

Imagine Yuu threatening people with an awl when they get upset, which happens a lot. (If you don't know what an awl is, either look it up or just know that it's a sharp tool) Ace, Grim, and Deuce to a lesser extent get threatened a lot, and Ace and Grim get stabbed a little so they know it's not an empty threat.

The carbonara guys in the cafeteria and Cater after he tricks them into painting the roses also get stabbed in Book 1, as well a lot of Savanaclaw guys in Books 2 and 3.

Basically all of the Overblot guys get stabbed at some point during their Overblot, and the few people that haven't been stabbed are Trey (although he got threatened in the library), Kalim (he's the only guy that's never been threatened), Epel (I don't know when, but he got threatened at some point), Lilia (though Yuu's definitely tried), and Silver (Yuu's considered pricking him to wake him up, but he's too nice for them to do that).

Moving onto something more wholesome, Yuu makes books as gifts for the squad. They made the Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle guys fun, personalized books for Christmas, and some for Scarabia over break, and they always have a project going.

The first-years in particular are the ones that have gotten stabbed the least (minus Ace and Grim), so they get a bunch of random, really beautiful notebooks (mainly Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek, since they'd actually use them), sketchbooks, and photo albums for Ortho, since he can actually use them.

The upperclassmen get less, but Yuu gives all of them at least two books at random points throughout the school year. Trey gets blank cookbook style books that he can write his recipes down in, Cater gets photo albums with covers that he can photograph for Magicam, Riddle gets actual notebooks, just with fun designs on the covers, because that's what he'd actually use.

Yuu tends to write down puzzles from their world in books for Leona, because that's something that he'd actually use, while I'm blanking on ideas for Ruggie.

Azul, Jade, and Floyd tend to get books at the same time, because Yuu doesn't want to risk upsetting one of them. The covers usually match for the Tweels and correlate with Azul's, or the Tweels get inverted designs while Azul's is similar. Inside, Azul and Jade get notebooks since they go to class and pay attention, though there's compliments and small mushroom doodles on the margins. Floyd would get sketchbooks, since he does have drawing moods occasionally.

Kalim and Jamil would usually get books at the same time as well because Yuu doesn't want Jamil to feel inferior to Kalim or something like that. Kalim usually gets sketchbooks because drawing is something fun for Kalim to do and Jamil gets either notebooks or empty cookbooks for him to fill.

Vil gets notebooks because Yuu doesn't know what else to give him, considering he's a celebrity, he can practically buy whatever he wants, so they don't expect him to really use them. (At the next joint class, they're really surprised to see him using a notebook they gave him.) Rook gets scrapbooks that he can fill with his Vil and Neige photos that he gets... somehow. Because he's Rook.

Idia either gets manga-style books that he can draw his own manga in or notebooks in which he can lore-dump for games, anime, or manga, or make theories about what happens next.

Malleus gets notebooks and he's really happy about them because they're gifts from his first friend, so he cherishes them. I have no ideas for either Lilia or Silver.

Crowley would ask Yuu why he never gets books despite the fact that he's so 'kind' to them, and they smack him in the face with a book to shut him up.

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minniethemoocherda · 4 months ago

Text

Just A Friend To You

A/N: Thank you so much to @pkmndaisuki for agreeing to be my beta reader for this fic! I never would have spotted any of my spelling mistakes otherwise lol! Please go check out their amazing X-men art! I hope you guys enjoy the fic! I know I don't post that frequently but I am trying my best to help keep this ship afloat! Xxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

From across the diner, Morph watched as Jubilee and Roberto inched ever closer to one another, neither of them quite yet taking to leap to touch.

Ah, the perils of young love, Morph thought. Although it wasn't as if the perils of love stopped once you became an adult. Something that they knew all too well as they turned their attention to the man sitting opposite them.

When Logan had learnt that the two teens were going on a date, he had demanded that he chaperone them. After many protests, Jubilee had agreed, on the condition that Morph also came along to make sure Logan didn't stab anyone, namely Roberto.

Which was how Morph came to find themselves that Saturday afternoon, watching a date, whilst on a not-date with the man they were in love with.

Most times when they and Logan were hanging out they would be roughhousing, or watching TV, or playing basketball. But here there was nothing to do but just enjoy each other's company. It was nice.

Morph wore their usual human form but with dark jeans and a pink crop top that they may or may not have borrowed from Gambit's wardrobe.

Wolverine was reluctantly wearing a buttoned shirt, because Jubilee had demanded that if he insisted on stalking them then he should at least look presentable. Morph was pretty sure that Logan had stolen his shirt too, probably from Scott, especially given that it was at least three sizes too small for him. He'd had to roll up the sleeves to hide how short they were and left the two buttons undone as it wasn't wide enough to fit across the expanse of his chest. Not that Morph was complaining about the view.

Nor were they complaining about the sweet potato fries that came with their burger.

"You should try one of these," Morph told him as they dipped one of those said sweet potato fries in ketchup.

The next second, Logan leant over the table and bit the one that Morph had been holding between their fingers. Which under different circumstances could have been romantic, but instead reminded Morph of when their old family dog would steal scraps of food from the table.

"I didn't mean that one you animal!" Morph cried, throwing a fry at his face.

But Logan bit that one too, catching it in his mouth, which then spread into a wide grin. With the ketchup dripping from his teeth onto his white shirt, he really did look like an animal.

In retaliation, Morph stole one of his onion rings which Logan protested with a "Hey!" But didn't otherwise complain.

Of course, that was when Roberto finally got the courage to make a move and draped his arm over Jubilee's shoulder.

Morph heard the familiar snikt of Logan drawing his claws from under the table.

"Calm down Wolvie." Morph said, reaching under the table to wrap their hand around his wrist. "I doubt he's gonna try to jump her in the middle of a diner. And even if he did, Jubilee can handle herself."

"She sure can." Logan said, his snarl turning into a proud smirk as he put his claws away.

Now, Logan might say that he didn't like kids, but Morph had seen how he interacted with them.

He always gave into Jubilee's demands to go shopping, or play video games with her, no matter how much he said he wouldn't. And when the teenager needed a non-judgmental shoulder to cry on, he was always there.

Morph knew Logan didn't want kids of his own, and in their line of work they couldn't really blame him. But still, they couldn't help but think it was a shame. He really would make a good father.

It was just one of the many reasons why they loved him.

Suddenly the waitress appeared next to their table and Morph realised that they were still holding Logan's wrist. They quickly retreated it back.

Thankfully, the waitress appeared not to notice, too busy trying to balance an overstuffed bowl of ice cream, sauce and sprinkles in her hand that she placed on their table.

"We didn't order that, lady," Logan told her.

"I know. The girl over there did," the waitress replied, pointing over to Jubilee where a similar looking desert was placed upon her table. When Jubilee caught them looking her way, she waved a cheeky grin and Robert just looked confused.

By the time Morph looked back, the waitress was gone and Logan was digging a scoop out of the ice cream.

"What?" Logan shrugged, shoving the spoonful into his mouth. "I ain't gonna waste free food."

Melted ice cream dripped down Wolverine's chin adding to the collection of stains on that poor shirt, and Morph took a scoop themselves to try to distract themselves from that train of thought.

They had to admit that the dessert was pretty good, not too creamy yet not too solid with a perfect balance of ice cream and toppings.

Logan must have thought so too because as he licked his spoon he let out a low rumbling moan. Morph knew that in this form, they had to have been blushing at pink as their t-shirt. Not even Logan dipping one of the left over fries in to it could lessen their blush, so they did their best to hide it by ducking behind the large bowl as they ate the remainder of the monster of a dessert.

But try as they might, Morph couldn't distract themselves from the thoughts in their head. Logan had to know how this looked right? The pair of them, sharing a dessert. Morph swore they had already seen some of the other diner patrons giving them funny looks. Maybe Logan didn't care? Or maybe he wasn't as hyper-aware about appearances as Morph was?

At least their internal breakdown didn't last for too long, thanks to Logan's never ending appetite.

Morph glanced over at Jubilee's table to see that they had finished too.

Now all that was left was to pay the bill.

"I'll get it." Logan said, grabbing some bills from his trouser pockets. "I'm the one who dragged you into comin' with me."

"Wow, a burger, some frees and a free dessert. You really know how to treat a girl." Morph teased, as if the idea of Logan ever treating them to a real date would be a complete joke.

"Fine." Logan snorted, handing the money over to the waitress. "Next time I'll persuade that Roberto kid to take Jubilee some place fancier."

Next time? Morph felt their stomach somersault.

"Well, if you insist on taking me somewhere fancier then we will have to get you a new shirt," they said, pointing to where a third button had now snapped free. They tried to hide the fact that they felt left like they were about to puke up their own gloop.

"Why? You not likin' the view?" Logan said through a smug smirk.

"I like not getting kicked of restaurants more."

"So you do like it," Logan stated, that smirk turning predatory.

Wait, was Logan actually flirting with them? No, of course not. That could not be happening. This was just their usual banter. Right? Morph must have gotten so caught up in how the pair looked that their brain must have tricked itself into believing that Logan was flirting with them. Yes, that's what must have happened.

Of course that was when Jubilee decided to interrupt.

"I thought I told you to wear something decent!" She cried, grabbing Logan's leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of his chair and throwing it over the exposed expanse of his chest.

"I wore a shirt didn't I?" Logan protested, shrugging the jacket on properly. "Besides, Morph said they liked it."

Jubilee turned her accusatory glare towards them.

"Okay first of all, I never said that. Also I was the one who told Logan that shredding his only shirt wouldn't get him out if wearing one in the future so this-" Morph waved their hands in Logan's general direction. "Is not my fault."

Jubilee stared up at the ceiling but she was unable to stay annoyed for too long as Roberto placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and when her gaze once again found his and a smile once again graced her face.

"Whatever. Me and Roberto were going to go to arcade if you two insist on stalking us."

Morph glanced towards Logan and was surprised too see him shaking his head.

"Nah, you kids go ahead. We got our own plans."

Jubilee looked between them, a suspicious smile on her face that had Morph's stomach churning. But for once she chose to keep her mouth shut simply waving them both goodbye.

"You kids have fun!" Morph called after them.

"But not too much fun." Logan grinned making Roberto's brown skin pale as the teens headed for the door.

Despite their teasing, Morph truly was happy for Jubilee. Robert was a good kid. They were good for each other. Roberto helped to keep her grounded whilst she showed him the light around them.

Morph watched as Roberto reached out his hand and Jubilee didn't hesitate to take it in her own. Morph knew that it wasn't easy for the pair of them easier. As an Afro-Brazilian and Asian-American couple, they too drew their own fair share of less than happy looks. But the two teens ignored the stares, only having eyes for each other.

"Not that I'm complaining about getting out of babysitting duty," Morph said getting up from the table. "But I wasn't aware that we had any plans."

"We're going bowlin'." Logan stated, getting up himself, when he suddenly refused to meet their eyes. "If you want. 'Cus we still haven't been since- I mean we ain't been in a while."

Morph chose to believe that Logan's uncharacteristic fluster was because he had reminded them of how they still hadn't gotten the chance to go bowling together since they'd been freed of Sinister's control, and not the fact that he'd accidently made it sound like he was asking them out on a date.

"I'd love too." Morph quickly covered up the sincerity with a joke. "As long as you promise not to act all stabby when I beat you."

Logan snorted.

"As long as you promise not to act all bratty when I win."

"No promises."

As the two of them left, Morph couldn't help but glance down at Logan's hand as it swayed between them. They hoped that one day, they would have the courage to take his hand too.

#morpherine #x men 97 #wolverine #logan #x men #morph #morph x men #morph xmen #kevin sydney #jubilee #jubilation lee #roberto de costa #sunspot #james logan howlett #logan howlett #logan x morph #morph x wolverine #juberto #marvel

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rubra-wav · 9 months ago

Note

Omgg, I need a Rosie x fem!Reader fic, where she introduces you to Alastor like her partner 😭💕

Rosie x introducing reader to Alastor

A/N: Today is Rosie day apparently bc I got 2 reqs I'm gonna be (hopefully at least) getting written abt her today.

I'm really sorry I just realised you said fic on this one, lmk if you'd like me to write it as a proper fic 💀

Cw: Sfw, Fem reader, slightly twisted fluff, cannibalism, kinda messed up relationship origin story haha

- When Rosie had brought out the tea set with a mixture of treats for Alastor and herself, and different sweets for you, you could feel yourself getting anxious about the meeting to come.

- You'd been dating the overlord for a little while now. With the 7th month approaching, Rosie wanted you to meet one of her longest friends.

- Wanted to solidify that you were her girlfriend more permanently.

- The public eye wasn't on you at all luckily due to you living in a town surrounded by ravenous cannibals who would protect you with tooth and nail due to dating their leader.

- However, during the time you'd been together, Rosie continued to receive suitors, which was uncomfortable for both of you.

- So she figured that she would start trying to make an effort to tell people she was in a completely monogamous relationship, one person at a time. Starting with her good friend Al, naturally.

- You truly didn't mind, but it was a little bit nerve-wracking meeting another overlord. Especially one who was long time friends with your lover.

- Rosie noticed you fidgeting nervously with your hands, looking down at the table set out before you.

- She let out a soft sigh and put down the box of tea bags she had been fussing with the choices of, walking to stand behind you and place her hands on your shoulders.

- "You'll be fine, heart! He's gonna love you. Maybe even half as much as I do!" She chuckled as your slightly unsure face peered backwards up at her.

- She leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, prompting you to relax and smile softly.

- As she did so, there was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind the two of you.

- You two turned to see the very recognisable Radio Demon standing there looking somewhat uncomfortable at the display of affection. You didn't even hear him approach the outdoor sitting area.

- "Good afternoon, ladies." Alastor recovered quickly as Rosie moved to properly greet him with a big hug, and you rose from your seat with a somewhat strained smile.

- As the two cannibal overlords embraced, you got a stab of being out of place... inadequate in comparison. I mean, you were just some nobody dating the (essentially) mayor of cannibal town, you were surely out of place in such company.

- You were knocked from your thoughts as you felt your hand taken and shaken, Alastor leaning down to get a closer look at you with an elated grin.

- "And you must be (name)! Brilliant to meet you darling, Rose has told me so much about you, it really is a pleasure!" He exclaimed, shaking your hand so enthusiastically you thought you might fall over if he kept it up.

- "Y-yes! It's very nice to meet you Al-" you startled, before correcting yourself. "Alastor! I mean. Sorry!" You apologised profusely for addressing him so informally.

- The man shook his head with a staticky bark of laughter. "Nonsense! Anyone who's this close to Rosie I see as a friend! Do feel free to call me Al, darling." He let go of your hand, finally ceasing the relentless handshake to go and take a seat at the table, musing to himself the whole way about how fun this was going to be.

- Rosie laughed softly at the surprise on your face, wrapping an arm around your lower back and guiding you toward the loveseat across from your grinning guest.

- Afternoon tea with Alastor went along swimmingly despite your prior stress about it.

- The whole time, your fingers were laced together with Rosie's as the three of you laughed and conversed cordially.

- "So, do tell me, how did you ladies meet one another?" Alastor asked, taking a sip of his tea with his red eyes flicking between the two of you.

- You laughed awkwardly, looking to Rosie with a slightly hesitant expression as to whether you should tell the truth exactly or not.

- Rosie shrugged, somewhat hesitant about it as well.

- You gulped, recollecting it all. "Well, my Rose and I met under.. inopportune circumstances." You said slowly, voice raising an octave at the end.

- Alastor put down his cup of tea with his eyebrows raised expectantly. "Oh~?" He looked all the more curious now.

- You took a deep breath, and Rosie chuckled next to you. "Well," Rosie picked up where you left off. "It's kind of funny now, but wasn't at the time that's for sure. She stumbled into the town's walls with a bleeding knee and the cannibals converged on her, trying to take her as a gift for me. It was my birthday the day afterwards, you see." The cannibal explained, talking with her hands as she told the story.

- Alastor looked at you in surprise. "My, that would have been quite a strange situation for you (name)."

- "it... sure was, yes. They brought me to her gagged and wrapped up in a big pink ribbon." You thought back in some unsureness. "They wanted to cook my heart particularly for her birthday meal, but wanted her to actually approve of me before serving me."

- Alastor laughed loudly at your words, shaking his head as he fought to compose yourself. "And what, she decided you looked like you tasted bad?" He looked at Rosie for more context, to find her shaking her head with a somewhat irritated look on her face.

- "Not at all, she looked far too good to eat. People like my husband belong on a platter, not those like my heart," Rosie looked to the side down at you with a fond smile. "I knew that even before we spoke."

- You blushed and smiled warmly at her, squeezing her hand as you looked lovingly up at her.

- "The second I looked into those big beautiful black eyes of her's, I knew I wanted to be with her. Weird I know to be on someone's literal chopping block and thinking that way." You chuckled, looking back at Alastor with a grin.

- Alastor grinned right back at you, expression softening slightly as he leaned his cheek on his palm. "Yes, however I'm glad to see that Rosie seems to be so happy with you. You two make an excellent pair from what I've seen."

- You and Rosie chuckled, agreeing with him. Definitely.

Helpppp now I kinda wanna write a prequel part 2 for their meeting aaa. I could call it 'Eat Your Heart Out or Give You Mine.'✨️😭

Or sumn like that.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie headcanons #hazbin hotel rosie x reader

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writingkeepsmewhole · 11 months ago

Text

Shadows

This is part 7 of Snow In The Dark. I hope you like it :)

Fic Summary: Snow has never known who she was. Being raised in the streets made her strong but lonely. That changed when she met Jack them becoming as close as sisters. She thought she found her family. That all changes when she crashes on a planet with only one rule. Stay in the light.

Part Summary: Snow hides in the crashed ship with the rest of the others, only to learn that its not as safe as it seems.

Riddick x OC Snow

Warnings: Language. Mentions of death.

Part 1 Part 6

Let me know if you want to be tagged :P : @here4thespice @amarokofficial @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @pinkcrystal44

The inside of the crashed ship was pitch black. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Hearing a few clanks, a light floods the small space as they turn on a torch.

“She should have stayed down.” Jack says looking up at me is sad from seeing Sharon die.

“If she only would have stayed down she would be okay. Like you.” She says, wrapping her arms around me in the middle burying her head in my chest.

“Shh, I know. I’m so sorry.” I say rubbing her back. Thinking of Riddick knowing if it wasn’t for him I would be dead. Very dead.

I don’t know what made him save me but I wasn’t going to question it. In fact I was wishing I knew a way to repay him.

“You remember the boneyard?” Johns asks, making me look at the man I was just thinking about.

I swore I could see a smirk settle on his face. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking the same thing as me.

“This just might be the thing that killed everything else on this planet.”

“What are we gonna do now?” Jack asks, looking up at me.

“We are gonna stick together like we always do.” I say smiling at her.

“Is this the only light we have? Is this everything?” Paris asks.

“There's a cutting torch on the floor here somewhere.”

“Quite, please, everyone.” Iman says, him placing his ear on the door.

Jack moved away from me to do the same.

The wailing of the creatures outside being heard in the distance. I take a breath, feeling my heart drop knowing we are slowly getting surrounded.

“Why do they do that? Make that sound?” Jack asks.

“It’s how they see. With sound reflecting back. Letting them know where we are.” I answer everyone turning to me.

I jump along with everyone else when rattling sounds from behind me make me spin around to face the noise. Everyone is shining their lights trying to see what is going on.

“Could be a breach in the hull. I don’t know.” Carylon says softly.

“Oh great.” I mutter not wanting to think about how many of those things are in here with us.

“Come on, Johns. You got the big gauge.”

“I’d rather piss glass.” Johns says, making me snort.

“Of course you would.” I say, earning a glare from him.

“Why don’t you go fucking check?” He says, challenging me.

“I’m not staying here anymore.” Paris says before I can answer.

“Where are you going?” Johns asks spinning around to go after him.

“Hey! Hey!.” Johns says, the others stopping him from opening the door.

I ignore them easing closer to Riddick, him looking down at me, his eyes shining. He didn’t have to say anything. It was clear he didn’t want me to check out if there were any monsters in here with us.

I step closer to him, my stomach flipping as I do. Like standing on a tall ledge getting ready to jump. Pure adrenaline was pumping through me when I stood next to him.

He jerks his head for me to follow him, us getting closer to the group.

“Hurry!” Iman yells, him opening up a small closet for us to get into.

Riddick, herding me into it before slipping into it himself, the others rushing in as well.

“Now we are trapped in a much smaller space. I hate this” Paris says, making me roll my eyes.

‘At least we are not out there with it.’ I wonder how these people were going to survive.

My head snaps to Iman yelling at the creature outside stabbing through the door with its claw. Almost hitting his head.

‘Oh great it’s smart.’ I think, as Riddick leans down, lighting the cutting torch off Paris lighter makes him jump and look up at him.

I move closer to Riddick as he starts cutting a hole through the wall. Johns firing shots off at the door we just came through.

“Does it not realize these things like noise?” I ask, Riddick lifting his mouth in a smirk.

I smile glad he got my joke.

He passes the torch to me as he kicks the newly made door open. A circle hole letting us out of the room and into a bigger part of the ship.

I crawl through it following him, Carylon and the others behind us. I pass her the torch, to help the others get through.

Jack latching onto me once more. I smile at her wrapping my arms around her to hold her close. Her eyes bounce around the room as the others start barricading the hole.

“Where is Riddick?” Johns asks, looking around.

Letting go of Jack I turn around to see Riddick has disappeared.

“I said," Where is Riddick?” Johns says again, making me realize he was talking to me.

“I don’t know. I don’t have a tracker on him.”

“Go find him.” He says, gesturing towards the dark ship.

I roll my eyes not wanting to cause an argument with Johns. It would be quieter if I just did as he asked. I didn’t want the creatures to find us again.

“Stay with the group. I’ll be right back.” I say to Jack.

I move to start easing into the darkness. Taking slow cautious steps. Feeling like we were in the cargo bay of the ship I moved past boxes and nets.

The more I walked the darker it got since I was getting away from the group's light source. Moving farther and farther away until I couldn’t hear or see them anymore.

I was submerged in complete darkness when I felt the feeling of being watched. Swallowing, I slow down, trying to listen harder. To see if I could hear anything around me.

I take a deep breath, when I feel arms wrap around me. A large hand covering my lips as I was pulled into a firm chest.

The growing familiar smell of Riddick invading my senses. I don’t know how I could relax and have my body heat up at the same time.

He doesn't say anything. Only uses his hand on my mouth to make me look up.

Looking up to see the movement of something. I blink a few times shocked when my vision clears enough to see the silhouette of a creature eating something.

I let him pull me back into the shadows. Into an even darker space if that was possible. Hidden for the beast. Or at least hidden enough that it cared about its meal more than us.

His hand falls from my face to my waist as he eases around me. Moving to stand in front of me. His large frame blocked me from view.

If I didn’t know any better I would say he was protecting me. But he wouldn’t do that? Would he?

Despite the question in my mind I reach up and grab the back of his tank top. Telling myself it was in case he took off I would know to follow. To run to safety but I would be lying if I didn’t find something comforting about touching him in some way.

I’ve definitely lost my mind it seems.

We stay like that for a moment or two waiting for an opening to slip away I’m guessing until one of Imen’s boys comes around the corner.

I feel my stomach drop knowing this is only going to end badly.

He lets out a gasp when the flesh of whatever the monster was eating falls in front of him. The creature makes a sound, turning to face us, clearly earring the boy.

“Extremely..bad..timing.” Riddick says slowly, easing out just enough for the boy to see him.

I knew I was blanked in darkness and Riddick’s body but It didn’t stop my heart from picking up. My gut telling me this was about to go south.

“Just don’t run.” Riddick says, sounding like he was barely moving his mouth.

“Riddick?” Carylon says, hearing his voice.

“Don’t. Stop. Burning.” He answers her, him standing perfectly still.

I matched him, realizing he figured out something about these things. They could only see you when you moved.

Hearing the crate behind us move and creak as a creature climbs onto it I ease closer to Riddick. Pressing myself into him, not wanting to be close enough for that thing to sneak up and grab me.

Both of us look up watching the creature's claws grow. Riddick’s large hand reaches back finding my hip, him easing us sideways into the shadows once more. His hand doesn't leave my body once we are locked in place again.

I watch the claw snap out at the boy making him jump and take off running. The creature flying after him. Another creature killed him, and the two began to fight.

I gasp when Riddick grabs my shirt pulling me after him as he starts to run, letting go as soon as he knows I'm right on his heels.

We book it towards the group, the light in the distance. Hearing us coming the group turns, shining their lights at us, at Riddick. I hear him yell and watch as he falls over holding his face, but it’s not in time enough for me to trip and fall on him. Making him grunt. The creature flying over us right towards the others.

It screeches flying off as Johns starts shooting at it.

“I’m sorry.” I say, moving to get off him. Riddick pushes himself up standing next to me.

Everyone screams as the monster falls from the ceiling, all of them huddling around it. I stay back not wanting to be anywhere near the thing.

“Is it alive?” Carylon whispers.

“I hope so.” I answered her, the sound of sizzling filling the air.

“It’s like the light is scalding it.” Paris says as the flashlight moves over its dead body.

“It hurts them. The light hurts them.” She says.

Hearing more noises Iman calls for his child.

I looked at the floor knowing the kid was not going to answer.

“We’ll burn a candle for him later.” Johns says, making me want to throw something at him.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” He says turning to head back to kick open the next door way.

#chronicles of riddick #richard b riddick #riddick fanfiction #pitch black riddick #pitch black fanfic #pitch black fic #pitch black #riddick imagine #riddick x reader #riddick fanfic #riddick fic #riddick x you #riddick x oc #shadows #snow in the dark

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ten-shi-fandoms · 2 years ago

Note

Hey neighbour! I don't know if ur still taking request,,

Can I ask for a howdy x human! reader but the reader is seriously injured and they're from our world!

Maybe like, when the reader gets transported into Welcome home they get injured on the way?

Sure! This was actually pretty fun to do! I love this kind of trope! I didn't know if you wanted it platonic or romantic so I only made it platonic, I can always make it a romantic fic for Howdy later for you! I hope you enjoy!

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Treated Injuries

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Cw: Howdy Pillar x Injured Human!Reader, gender neutral reader, reader is from our world, getting transported, reader is seriously injured, mentions of blood, serious wounds, mentions of being attacked, reader gets stabbed, angst to fluff, platonic

___________________________________

You don't remember much about what happened or what was even going on, all you remember was someone blindfolding you from behind before getting attacked on your way home. Your were stomped on, kicked, punched, you even felt a knife dig itself into your skin forcing crimson red liquid to pour from your body.

By the end of the assault you were covered in wounds, blood and dirt. Dirt clung to your now messy (h/c) hair, and (s/c) skin. Blood stained your clothes, mixing with the dirt that laid on your skin and smudged across wounds. You could barely move. You felt like your dominant wrist was damaged, your leg was definitely broken from the odd bent it had, there was a large stab wound along your side, you could even feel bruising forming on your ribs. Blisters and bruises laced your lip as the blood ran down it dripping onto your clothes. You were in no position to get up. You couldn't even talk, most likely having messed up your vocal chords from how much you screamed. It felt like everything was out to get you.

Why did this have to happen to you of all people?

Why were you always the one in some form of pain?

As the questions of why this happened to you, you begun thinking back to your childhood when your life was at least a bit peaceful. You use to run around with friends, dance around to the music playing in the streets, eat junk and laugh, but there was one memory that you favored over the rest. It was the memory of you watching a show called "Welcome Home" the first time you met your favorite character, Howdy Pillar.

In the episode you vividly remembered Howdy refusing to let Wally inside due to the smaller male taking his apples the day before. The moment you laid eyes on him you knew he was going to be your favorite. Howdy was quick witted, charismatic and overall a joy to watch. It was always the light of your day watching Howdy scold Wally for knocking over his apples, handing out glitter glue to Sally for her plays, helping Julie pick out hair accessories, joking around with Barnaby and so much more. Tears welled in your (e/c) eyes slowly pouring down leaving wet streaks against your dirtied cheeks. What you would give to watch Howdy on your tv again. To watch him smile so kindly when helping his fellow residence. To be a kid again without a care in the world. As the thoughts of your mind began to grow your eyesight begun to blur, then your vision went black and no more thoughts plagued your mind.

Slowly you were awaken, hearing the sounds of muffled speech and soft mumbles. Bright light forced your eyes to stay mostly shut as you were faced with a red hot pain throughout your limbs. What was going on? Due to the light you couldn't open your eyes fully, but you could tell you were no longer on the street near your house. What even happened? You remembered getting attacked then things turning black, but you didn't remember getting moved or hearing sirens at all. So where were you?

Before you could think more, you heard a door open and soft footsteps coming near you. You braced yourself for the worst but you heard something click and through your most shut eyes you could see the lights had been dimmed. "I'm sorry about that, when Julie heard I brought someone back she immediately cut on the lights. I hope you aren't too upset about it." a gentle voice called out to you. Wait, did you know that voice? It sounded familiar but it was unclear why. Turning your head towards the voice, your eyes slowly opening trying to adjust to your environment.

When you opened your eyes you were met with a familiar face. Oh, so thats why the voice sounded so familiar. The green fleece skin, the blue pompadour, the four arms and legs. It was Howdy, Howdy Pillar from Welcome Home. But how? Where you dreaming? You went to speak, wanting to know what was going on only to feel a sharp pain go through your throat causing you to wince. Howdy's eyebrows furrowed a bit, one of his hands grabbing a glass of water from a table while another one held you up gently in a sitting position. The hand helped you drink the water, a few soft coughs escaped your lips after a few sips before Howdy sat the glass back down still holding you up.

"Your vocal chords are damaged, so I would hold off on talking for a bit." he started, his voiced laced with worry as he begun telling you about your body's current situation. "When I found you behind my shop you were badly hurt. You were covered in blood and unconscious so I brought you inside to get you fixed up. Your leg is broken, your wrist fracture, you have a large gash along your side and your ribs seem to be bruised." Howdy paused, his expression one full of concern. "I was worried, you seemed to have lost a lot of blood so I'm glad your awake. Do you feel any better?" he asked. The question making you nod your head a bit, the action made Howdy smile a bit, one that seemed to be out of relief.

"That's good." Howdy went to say something else before the look of concern quickly returned to his features. "Are you sure? Your crying." his voice was soft as he used one of his free hands to gently wipe your tears. You hadn't even realized you were crying, let alone shaking. Everything that had happened came at you like a brick and your body could make you do nothing but cry. Large globs of tears fell from your eyes at a fast pace as your body shook forcing broken sobs from your lips. Howdy said nothing instead opting to gently wrap his arms around you, holding you in a warm embrace. Your cheek laid against his chest, warm tears staining his apron. Your body hurt, hurt more than it ever had but you really couldn't think of that. Howdy's gentle embrace, soft patting of your head and kind praises filled your mind helping you find peace in such a dangerous and confusing situation.

Even if you couldn't see it, you could bet Howdy was worried that worry most likely showing on his face. Slowly lifting your head up, tears blurring your vision you expected a look of worry but instead you saw a small smile. A smile that held calmness even if you tell by his eyes he was concerned. He was smiling for you. He was trying to make you feel better by smiling. Something about his smile made you break out a wobbly smile of your own. Tears stained your face and from what you could see your bandages. Your nose was running, and you felt awful but Howdy didn't seem to care about your appearance. He only cared that you were safe and that was more than enough for you to feel some sort of relief from the horrid situation. You were attacked cut and dry. You were injured beyond belief but you were able to get something good out of it. You got to see Howdy. Even if it felt like a dream, you got to see the one thing you had always loved.

A gentle hand ran across your hair, pushig messy strands from your face while another one cleaned your tears with a sleeve. You felt a tissue press against your nose as you stared at Howdy. "Blow" he said softly, signalling for you to blow into the tissue which you did reluctantly. He asked this of you a few more times before you shook your head showing him you were fine. You were placed back on what you now knew was a bed, propping your body up with pillows for extra comfort. "I'm Howdy, Howdy Pillar it's nice to meet you (Y/n)." he said softly. Huh? How did he know your name. You must've had a look of confusion because Howdy chuckled pulling out your wallet showing your ID, drivers license and other identification. "I found out because of this." if you could sigh you would've but instead you nodded. Howdy smiled gently at you placing your wallet next to the glass of water on the table. He went to speak only to be cut off by the sound of knocking. Before Howdy could ask who it was, the door opened revealing two others you recognized as Wally Darling and Julie Joyful.

Julie must've opened the door while Wally stood beside her holding a basket. The smell of baked goods filled the room as Julie and Wally walked inside. "Hey Howdy! We brought some snacks Poppy made for our new neighbor!" Julie exclaimed, Wally held up the basket when the energetic girl spoke of snacks. "She wanted to make sure we got to them here before they got too cold!" Howdy nodded one of his hands reaching out for the basket which Wally handed over without much of a fuss. "I will set these with their other things, thanks you two." Howdy spoke kindly to the two individuals who now stood in the room. Julie smiled proudly while Wally turned his attention to you.

Quietly the small male padded his way over, placing a small box of flashcards on your lap. "Howdy told us you can't speak right now so Sally made flashcards for you so you could speak." Wally's soft voice told you about the kind bundle of sunshine; literally, who was nice enough to give you a way to communicate due to not being able to use your dominant hand from it's fracture. You smiled at the small male nodding your head showing your understanding. "That's enough now." Howdy spoke his hands pushing Wally and Julie out the door. "We should leave (Y/N) alone, they need rest." Wally nodded in agreement as Julie waved goodbye to you happily. "Bye bye (Y/N)! We'll come vist you later!" Julie's sweet voice called out from outside the room. "Get some rest." Wally stated, before walking out the room completely. Howdy sighed gently turning back to you. "I'll be back to check on you after I close up shop okay?" you nodded, smiling at Howdy who in turn smiled back once more. "Alright then, get some rest." and with that you were all alone. Even though you were alone you didn't feel lonely. Maybe it was the shock of what happened. Or maybe even the confusion but you felt more loved than you had in a while. If this was a dream you wanted it to last forever. Your eyes slowly closed, black clouding your vision as you rethought of Howdy's soft words from when you were crying.

"Don't cry, your safe now."

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ticklishraspberries · 6 months ago

Text

Twenty Questions (Catherine/Peter)

Summary: Catherine finds her husband boring, so he tries to prove her wrong. (This was originally supposed to be a drabble for @tickle-bugs using the sentences “Now, that was interesting" and "That's just a roundabout way of saying 'I like it'" and yet, it's turned into a 1.8k words-length fic. This one is weirdly canon-divergent, because I didn't want it to be too spoiler-y for Bug who had just started the show when they sent the prompt eons ago, so just...I don't know, roll with it? Hope you enjoy!!)

"He's boring," Catherine tells Marial as she dresses in her bedclothes. "We have absolutely nothing in common. I am a woman of science, art, and philosophy. And he, well..."

"Is a man of food, fights, and fucking?" Marial replies.

"Exactly! He does not interest me. He is rather handsome, but he seems as though there's nothing beneath the surface." Catherine sighs, flopping back against her mattress. Her marriage to Peter has gotten off to a rather rocky start, and that's putting it lightly. They've come to a sort of standstill, now, tolerating one another, but not quite getting along.

"Men rarely have much lingering beneath the surface," Marial says. "I know you wished for a great love when you came here, but clearly Peter is...not that person. He could be a great person to kill, but not love."

A month ago, Catherine would have jumped for the chance to slit her husband's throat, but now, after seeing him almost die from that poisoning attempt...She isn't sure killing him is the right thing to do. Maybe growing closer to him is better. If she were to kill him, Orlo says that her whole scheme would blow up in her face. Abdication is the goal, and for him to abdicate...He should at the very least be susceptible to her charms, should he not?

She frowns, staring at the canopy of her bed. "Goodnight, Marial."

"Goodnight, Empress," Marial says, giving a sarcastic little curtsey that does manage to make Catherine's frown falter into a smile.

The next morning at breakfast, she voices her concerns to her husband. "I do not find you interesting," she says, rather bluntly. "Nor do we have anything in common. How is a marriage supposed to flourish if we have nothing to speak of?"

Peter stops stabbing at his food and looks up at her, confused. "What do you mean? I am a very interesting person.. I have many hobbies, some incredible stories to share.”

"And yet, I do not wish to hear about hunting or your sex with Georgina," she replies, tone laced with snark.

Peter chuckles. "Then what would you like to discuss? The importance of women's education? The work of some European philosopher I don't care to read?"

"And that's exactly it! You don't care to read, nor learn, nor get to know me and the things that I care about," she says. She stands, moving from her end of the table to sit directly beside him. "If I am to be your wife, to bear your children, do I not deserve the common decency of you giving a single shit about me?"

Peter seems surprised by her outburst. He clears his throat, then asks, "What's your favorite color?"

She blinks at him in surprise. "Blue. Any shade, really. My mother says it brings out my eyes when I wear it. Yours?"

"I've always been partial to green. Perhaps because it reminds me of the forest, hunting with my father in the early autumn, just before the leaves have started to change," he replies. "There. We've learned something about each other. Now, you ask me something."

"What is your favorite book?"

"I don't know that I have one," he says. "I have admittedly never read much for pleasure. I did my studies as instructed, but never went out of my way to read something I was not required to. Not the answer you were hoping for, but the truth. And yours?"

"Diderot's Philosophical Thoughts," Catherine responds without a second thought. "I've read it nearly fifteen times."

"I knew it would be something of the sort," he says, his smile almost fond.

They spend the next half hour going back and forth, asking one another questions: Their favorite foods, stories about their childhoods. Catherine tells him of her sisters, her love for strawberries, and her childhood fear of large dogs. He tells her of his friendship with Grigor, his first broken bone, and his love of truffles.

When it’s Peter’s turn to ask a question again, he ponders for a bit before saying, “Are you ticklish?”

Vodka almost comes out of Catherine’s nose, and she cringes at the sting, coughing. “What? That’s…A childish question,” she replies, feeling her cheeks go pink.

“And yet, you seem to think me childish anyway, so why not ask?” he challenges. There’s a mischievous glint in his eye that makes her heart skip a beat.

“Most people are,” Catherine says, choosing her words carefully. “At least, in my experience. There isn’t much science on the subject, but even Shakespeare speaks of it.”

“So, you are.”

“I didn’t say that, I just said…”

Peter’s hand reaches towards her, and she tries to bat it away with quite a bit of force, but he easily avoids her dainty hands and catches her side, squeezing it once before she jolts away with a muffled sound in her throat, something like a laugh.

“Now, that was interesting,” he says, grinning.

Catherine’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you have duties to attend to, dear husband?”

“Oh, but this matter seems much more pressing…”

Catherine is about to stand and run from the room when Elizabeth enters, saving her with her demand that Peter go attend to those aforementioned duties.

“This isn’t over,” he tells her, shooting her a wink before departing from the room.

Catherine sits at the table for another moment, stunned, cheeks flushed and something fluttering in her belly. Normally, being with Peter fills her with disdain, disgust. Now, she just feels…Flustered. And yet, somehow lighter than she had felt last night, wallowing in self-pity about her ass of a husband. Yes, he is still an ass, but…They’ve just genuinely bonded for what feels like the first time, and the realization that Peter is not all awful has struck her like a brick to the face.

Later, she tells Marial of their talk.

“Just because he can recall warm, fuzzy memories of his childhood doesn’t mean he isn’t awful,” Marial scoffs.

“I know that, but…It was different. We were almost getting along. Until he tried to tickle me, which I found rather unpleasant,” Catherine says, face scrunched in thought.

Marial snorts. “Is that the method I’ll have to use when you won’t listen to my incredibly intelligent advice?”

Catherine gives her arm a playful swat. “Not if you want to stay on my good side.”

After Marial leaves, again, she finds herself staring at the ceiling, hands crossed over her belly as she ponders her future. Could she love Peter? It could be possible, she supposes that many things are possible.

The next morning, she sits at his breakfast table alone. She assumes he is hungover, or still drunk, or busy sleeping with someone else when he is not punctual, as food is the only thing he’s ever on time for. She huffs, choosing to thumb through a book while she waits for him.

She isn’t waiting long though, because after a moment, she feels a presence behind her, and before she can turn to see who it is, two hands have grabbed her sides and danced their fingers upward, making a quite undignified squeak burst from her lips.

Her book flops shut on the table as she whips around to see her husband, chuckling at his own jape.

“What was that for?” she asks, feeling the strong desire to hit him. Or kiss him. She isn’t quite sure which, but she hopes it's the former.

“To prove the answer to the question you were so determined to avoid yesterday,” he replies, waltzing over to his seat.

Catherine feels her cheeks redden again and rolls her eyes. “You are insufferable. And what about you, hm?”

Peter smirks. “Most people are,” he echoes her words from yesterday.

He’s about to call for food to be brought in when Catherine jumps from her chair and moves towards him, hands flying as she pokes and prods at every bit of him.

“What are you doing?” he asks, and he’s sort of laughing, but she suspects it’s more at her than anything else.

“Trying to tickle you,” she replies.

“Oh, come on, you can do better than that,” he says. “You’re just jabbing me in the chest, that’s not exactly effective—ah!”

Catherine grins triumphantly as she finds a spot on his ribs that makes him react. He had sort of scribbled his fingers on her, so she mimics the same thing on his ribs, and suddenly, her husband, the Emperor, is giggling like a child and nearly sliding out of his chair to avoid her.

She hasn’t tickled anyone since she was young, probably rough-housing with her sisters, only to be quickly reprimanded. She forgot how powerful it feels, how ridiculously silly and yet oddly invigorating.

Peter’s laugh is softer, higher in pitch that she’d imagined it could be. She’s heard him laugh many times before, but never quite so…freely. She’s so lost in the sound that she’s startled when he grabs ahold of her wrists and shoves them away.

At first, she thinks he’s angry, but he’s all red-faced and smiling and he looks…sort of adorable?

“You are a cruel woman, tormenting a man before he’s had his breakfast,” he says, breathless.

“As I recall, it’s your fault we haven’t eaten yet,” she replies, taking a seat beside him.

And so, the food comes, and they eat, mostly in silence, until Catherine speaks up again.

“You could have pushed me away much sooner. Why didn’t you?” she asks.

Peter doesn’t look up from his plate. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says, but it’s not very convincing.

“Oh, because you’ve been so gentle with me in the past,” she says. It’s a low blow, and she knows it, because it makes him look up. Instead of looking pissed, he looks almost sad, embarrassed even.

“Well, when we spoke of our childhoods the other day, yours didn’t seem…very fun,” he replies. “I never realized how differently women are raised. Even with all those sisters, you didn’t speak of any wrestling or playfulness. I thought I’d give you a bit more experience.”

Catherine is torn between offense at his implication that her childhood wasn’t fun, and touched at the sentiment. “I suppose that’s sweet.”

“And, I mean, I don’t exactly mind having your hands on me, in any capacity,” he adds. “Even if it’s in a non-sexual, sort of torturous way.”

"That's just a roundabout way of saying 'I like it'," Catherine replies, smirking.

Peter doesn’t argue, he just smiles and shoves an entire sausage into his mouth, which makes her avert her eyes in disgust, but she’s smiling, too.

When she returns to her apartments with a spring in her step, Marial is already concerned.

Catherine is too busy pondering more things she’d like to learn about her husband than to listen to her friend’s ramblings. While Russia is her great love, she’s beginning to wonder if Peter still has a place in that future. She hopes there is.

#catherine x peter #peter x catherine #catherinepeter #petercatherine #the great #the great 2020 #the great hulu #the great huzzah #tickle fic #ticklefic #raspberry writes #tickle-bugs

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bucknastysbabe · 2 years ago

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your pegging fic with bucky was SO FUCKING GOOD. can you please do another one?? like im literally so into it i was drooling the whole time

as for plot, just making him cry again LOL and overall just having him be a mess because

we love that for him.

thank you thank you thank you!

Bro I am so sorry I have no clue how this escalated. You have another free Bucky railing fic that doesn’t include my brain going wild. But he do be crying and a complete mess. Thanks for asking and I hope you are at the LEAST entertained!

Goes along with Praise Kink

Shadowplay - Joy Division

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3,882

Tags: TW‼️WHUMP, DEAD DOVE, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS, OFF SCREEN SUI‼️, Everyone is crazy, the reader is having a Hydra Life Crisis, Lots of ass play, pegging(m!receiving), fem dom, reader is ace spectrum, Bucky is a crybaby overstimulated touchstarved Angel, praise kink, slight dacry, angst ANGST ANGSTTTTT, switching pov’s like me in bed, they do a little Russian it’s called they do a little Russian, Hydra!Reader

A/N: idk man I’m just a vessel, also just liked the idea of there being a lead up to Buckbuck being like I Cannot Compute Anymore You Assholes then his boyfriend Steve saves the day💞 HC: Pierce likes Bucky be in emotional pain so sends him to her thinking he’ll kill the reader. Translations under cut

Russian translations: Милый (dear), блять (bitch/whore), глупая девчонка (foolish girl), Малыш (baby/bb boy), Умница (good boy), да (yes), хуй (cock), Трахни меня (fuck me), командир (commander), Спасибо (thanks/ty), зимний солдат (winter soldier)

To the center of the city where all roads meet, waiting for you.

To the depths of the ocean where all hopes sank, searching for you

The asset knew he had to report to his Komandir. That’s what happened every mission. They tried to tell the asset that Rumlow was his handler now. Rumlow was not his handler. Komandir was. But she had been gone for some time and he needed her back. The strike team leader was reckless and too bloodthirsty, not calculating enough. The asset could not say that out loud.

He trudged through dark alleys and poorly lit streets, rain pelting down on his leather tactical gear.

Nice Komandir. She was nice. The asset had unregulated emotions for her. He needed maintenance badly. First, the asset must give the mission report to her. The fake handler would be monitoring for the asset now, with their dogs and strike team.

Strike team would not find the asset. He will return himself after reporting to Komandir. The asset got intel on her whereabouts. She was relocated in New York under a new alias. The asset could almost smell her, see her, if he focused enough.

His boots slapped through a puddle before launching up a fire escape. The rain poured down harder— threatening to fill up the alley like an ocean. The asset would swim until his lungs gave out. The Director couldn’t take her away, putting her in an swarm of people or in the deepest cave. Because the asset would find her. She had to be locked up. She would never leave the asset.

They took her— he’d decided earlier after reporting to the pretender. The asset’s morale was sinking fast under Rumlow. That’s when the Director informed the asset on his Komandir. The Director had waved a hand dismissively, “Go find her then, do what you must and come back.” He didn’t understand but went out anyways.

I was moving through the silence without motion, waiting for you.

In a room with a window in the corner, I found truth.

Soldat climbed higher and higher until he was outside her window. He’d memorized it over and over and over and over. The asset grappled onto the thin balcony with a jump, using the moment to swing himself onto the platform. His covered eyes gathered the limited surroundings. A couple of flowerpots, an ashtray on the windowsill, and her familiar face gaping in the window.

The asset wanted to weep, kneel, receive her perfect touch. The asset only got stabs, bloody thrusts, and punches between his bloodshot eyes. Then wiped and put on ice. Although he hadn’t been put on ice much since transitioning to the United States. They had lots of people to get rid of before that. So the Director wiped him more often.

The window opened and her familiar rasp rang out in the rainy night, “Sweet soldier. You must be cold. Come in.” The asset nodded dumbly, shoving himself precariously through the window, contorting his broad shoulders and thighs to get through. Inside was a silent, thinly furnished room.

Cigarette stubbed beside the couch, the television playing something. His blues caught on a blanket and book, her handgun laid on top. Air blew the curtains softly from the window in the corner. The asset whimpered, “Where did you go Komandir?,” he fell to padded knees, “I cannot comply when Rumlow doesn’t have clearance for mission report.”

She cooed and stood tall as always, only clad in a thin gown. Komandir’s lips turned down at the mention of Rumlow. Her hands brushed his cheeks. Off came the goggles, then the mask. The asset’s wide blue eyes followed her obediently. One of her calloused thumbs strummed against his stubbled jaw. She said, “Sweetheart, I’m not officially your handler, not your Komandir anymore.”

He nuzzled into her hand, lips already wobbling. Why would they replace the best Komandir? She learned from Vasily Karpov, Vasily from…from. He couldn’t remember— there had been so many. One that smelled of aftershave and two older men with glasses that made him feel very cold.

She sighed, “They said I wasn’t worth their time sweet boy. I had to go.” The asset believed her, Komandir always told the truth. She knelt down and smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “You’re a star, precious, you shine so bright that not everyone can keep up with it.”

He replied, a ghostly whisper if anything, “The left me to Agent Rumlow. You couldn’t stay under him?”

Fear laced her stern features for the first time. The asset grew uneasy. His programming was screaming, “Maintenance! MAINTENANCE!” Her heart rate spiked rapidly while the agent fumbled for words. He gripped her wrist to bark, “You defected then! You defected like a coward and left me,” a sob tore his throat, “with them!”

His silver hand wrenched Komandir‘s other wrist towards him, her grunting in pain. Her breasts heaved as she panted. The asset glared her down, so many emotions swirling he felt he may explode. She lied to him. Why would she lie to him? Her star.

“Soldat. Status Report please,” she quavered.

Soldat’s tight shoulders relaxed minutely as he listed off, “Physical functions one-hundred percent. Maintenance required as soon as possible. Confusion, dangerously elevated norepinephrine, panic, traumatic response, and- and-,” he bit his tongue to stare. Komandir’s face was wrought with grief.

She murmured, climbing into the asset’s lap, “I need you to slow down comrade. It’s just you and me right now,” she pet his long locks to elicit that chest deep purr, “Can I tell you what happened while I get you clean sweet boy?”

The asset’s lids dropped at her soft body, familiar scent, and wise words. His plump lips trembled while whining, “P-please. I-I’m becoming…defective.”

“I know,” she soothed, “I know.”

In the shadowplay, acting out your own death, knowing no more.

As the assassins all grouped in four lines, dancing on the floor.

As the former agent pet her broken star her chest constricted with emotions. Pierce knew. The bond between asset and handler had grown entirely too close. He’d spat at her, “That thing is a weapon, not a puppy for you to coddle.” She wanted to tell the Director that a person could only go so long under this treatment before snapping completely. Render them useless to the plan. Whatever that may be.

Surprisingly Pierce had demoted her down to the lowest strike team squadron and elevated the prick Rumlow to be the next handler. The Director’s shiny teeth looked like fangs as he spoke, “I’ll keep you around because of your…skills. Any infractions you’re dead.”

So the former Komandir was a grunt again, under Strike Team Omega. They mainly went around sabotaging small terrorist cells. Soldat whined under her hand again, the woman tilting his wide eyes up. She frowned. Poor baby looked so broken, so lost. He had no clue he was going to leave here without his Komandir.

“Take off your gear, precious,” she ordered.

The Russian divested soldat of his guns and knives, laying them out on a neat line. She asked, “How much are they putting you on ice sweet boy?” His blues grew disoriented as he thought. Mechanical as ever, Soldat’s hands divested his leather top.

“Not much. More wipes. Something is coming.”

Something was coming. Maybe not now but in a couple of years. Pierce had something big. There was a reason scientists were holed up in one the hangars, crews building day and night. So they were over-using the soldier to make sure nothing crept out.

She thumbed the seam of scars along the asset’s prosthetic, the other’s hands jolting at the sensation. His pretty lips opened to whimper. Komandir unbuckled his belt and hummed, “They demoted me. I was with a lower strike team. I couldn’t take it anymore. W-without you I cannot provide anything useful for the greater cause.”

The woman remembered her last point. They were in Zagreb celebrating after a arms dealing commune was torn to shreds. Instead of going home, the team helped themselves to the women in trafficking. Assassins, warriors— dancing fools with these broken women. The former handler left and didn’t look back. She knew nothing. Hydra had a purpose once. It grew rancid just like everything else.

And with cold steel, odor on their bodies made a move to connect.

But I could only stare in disbelief as the crowds all left.

Alone in the world again. The Komandir wandered and wandered. Somehow always getting roped back into the underbelly of civilization. She told the silent asset about it. He seemed just as lost contemplating free will.

“I joined a couple of syndicates, former KGB, some widows. I moved around the states and just found no one had a goal. I just try to get by now, my sweet. It’s not pretty out there.”

She wiped her nose, “And to think I’d always dreamed of having you to myself forever. Sick. Selfish.”

I did everything, everything I wanted to.

I let them use you for their own ends.

Tears welled in Komandir’s eyes. She pulled his huge frame close and cried into greasy hair. “I should have got you back, kept you safe, get Hydra back to stage one,” her voice cracked, “I don’t know. I just ran and left them to break you down even more. I-I-I-I’m so sorry Милый, I’m so sorry.”

The Russian knew how this would end. She would die and be a remnant of something unattainable. Perfect was unattainable. Soldat was the closest she would witness and that’s enough. She stroked his wide back with gentle circles, sobs dying.

Soldat’s voice was a dull rasp in the pitch room.

“What would you have me do, Komandir?”

He looked so hopeful. Rage filled her heart, cracking and blistering from exposure. Run with me, start anew, kill that блять Pierce. The woman sat back and put on a smile. She purred, “I would have you relax and let me take care of you, sweetness.”

The asset nodded, unlacing his boots, plates in his arm clacking and humming. The woman thumbed his delicate nose, the thin skin under a once bright blue eye. She whispered, “Such a pretty soldat, perfect soldat.” Silent tears slid down her face. Vasily was probably in a hideout shaking his head. глупая девчонка.

She said, “I’m going to get the bath running, just lay your clothes out and join me,” she shushed his panicked noise, “Just around the corner Малыш.” She padded through the small apartment, ignoring the state of it. Soldat likely cared.

The former agent ran it scalding hot, throwing some lavender in there. She readied a towel and fluffed it. The bath tub was small, but she wanted to pamper her perfect star anyways. She worried her lip, he seemed to be cracking, bad. Too much time off ice and repeated wipes have not been studied. Komandir had never heard him speak so much, all that raw emotion.

Soldat’s hulking frame shadowed the doorway. Knelt down the Komandir beckoned him over. He gracefully clambered into the tub, sitting down with a grimace.

“Too hot?”

“No. I like it hot,” he murmured.

Her eyes roved the beauty of his body, stopping on heated cheeks, full lips, bulky chest, and that beautiful cock. It laid on his belly, a deep red and leaking. His balls were tight but she could see the stress, the heaviness of it. Supersoldiers needed to cum much more than the average man.

The woman grabbed a cup and dunked it to fill it up. Her other hand cupped his knee, thumbing the soft inside. Soldat whimpered again, dark lashes fluttering. She poured the water over his oily dark hair, doing it again until it was soaked.

“Lean up baby.”

She poured some cheap shampoo into her palm, lathering it up. The asset groaned deep in his chest at the contact— nails scritch-scratching away the oils and dirt. He stated, “I’m not supposed to remember you.” His watchful orbs looked up.

“You’re not supposed to remember that you’re not supposed to remember, Умница.”

He bit down on his lip and warbled, “I’m s-scared Komandir. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

You’re falling apart.

“Shh, baby, in the moment now, in the moment.”

He stilled but Soldat’s eyes had that ingrained wide-eyed fear. She washed the suds out and combed through the tangles, earning some pretty sighs. The Komandir found herself lecturing, “What the Americans do not get…you have to make sure your weap- agents are clean and cared for.”

She hissed while scrubbing his wide shoulders and neck, littered with yellowed bruises, “They don’t take care of their prized fist, that’s why poor soldat is feeling down.” He nodded along, shoulders relaxing minutely. Komandir washed down his arms, digging out the blood encrusted into the plates.

She did the rest methodically: Wash the feet, move down to the toes, calves, thighs. Stop. Soldat was mewling and squirming, face trained on her. His lips wobbled, brow furrowed in agony. The asset whined, “Komandir, please, need your touch, help me.” She ran a hand slowly down his trembling belly, palming the swollen cock.

“Soon, Малыш,” she promised.

His bitten lips pouted, but her good boy always listened. She stated, “I was blind that Hydra would keep the original goal alive. I felt more confident leaving knowing that. But I was wrong, sweet baby. You’re the key and they don’t know it.”

Komandir pulled out a straight razor and shaving cream. She shaved his stubble while continuing, “You will be the one to change Hydra. Burn it into the ground or rise above the sham it’s become. That’s your reality, and the time will come. You must not fail now dear soldat.”

He steeled himself, relaxing under orders, vague as they are. She knew Soldat knew he had to wait for the perfect moment. The brunette thanked her in the softest voice when she wiped off his newly cleaned cheeks. The woman cooed, “Never seen a prettier baby. Turn over so I can get everything.”

By the time she’d cleaned and prepped the soldier out he was a mess. He’d come once already, scrabbling at the tile and wailing in ecstasy. Poor thing wasn’t done. Now dry, her perfect soldier rutted against her soft, soft thigh. His pink lips were sealed around her nipple, whining and suckling.

She pulled at his long locks and said, “As a gift,“ she tapped his cleft chin, “Do you want your Komandir to fuck your sweet hole?” The Russian wouldn’t mention it was a final gift. He babbled in multiple languages but the message was clear— fuck me. She smiled down at his teary cheeks and cooed, “Eager baby. I’ll show you what it’s like to be fucked. Not like those jackasses.”

“Mmmh-pleaseee,” the brunette wantonly begged. He rutted against the bedding while the Komandir moved to a chest in the room. The asset drooled, spreading his thick thighs to draaag his achy cock against the too-soft material— eliciting an annoyed whine.

“Almost there my star,” she laughed. There were some noises of clipping and leather. To their ears it sounded like a gun belt or harness of sorts.

She clicked the heavy black silicone into place. There was no other side to stimulate the woman. Same as it always was, it was her precious boy’s pleasure to take, not her own.

Ambling over to the bedside she asked, “Front or back sweetheart?”

“Front, front, front!,” he babbled.

“Okay. When you see me and change your mind just say so baby.”

He made a confused gesture but flipped onto his back, exposing that pretty pink cock again. Drool actively collected on his plump lips at the sight of Komandir’s strap. He obviously had never seen anything like it. Scarred hands gave it a slow stroke, fingers barely able to meet around the girth.

“Well?”

The asset whined her name thinly, begging for her to take him. She climbed upon the bed one knee at a time, hand on the cock, eyes heady and glued on the trembling soldier. She purred, “Are you sure you want it? Reaaaally think baby boy, there’s freedom of choice under all that mess.”

She tried to play it across seductively but the true meaning was laid bare. Soldat’s eyes flicked about the heavy silicone, throat bobbing in anticipation. He began to speak, faltered, frustrated tears welling up. Finally with his head down the soldier croaked, “Please, want you, please.”

“I’ve got you.”

To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.

She stripped off the gown and tossed it to the dingy carpet. The woman crawled between his legs and kissed a path up to his waiting mouth, puckered tightly. He was vibrating with need, huge arms circling around Komandir’s slim waist. He closed the gap, licking into her open lips.

The woman seized Soldat’s throat with a loose grip, just to stabilize the inevitable freefall. The brunette’s lips were insistent, demanding— like he was trying to take her soul. She moaned lowly, twisting around his probing tongue easily, lips wetly smacking. She nipped his lip playfully, squeezing his veined throat.

The soldier cried out, teeth gnashing against hers as he kissed and kissed and sucked. The soft skin of Komandir’s belly rubbed against Soldat’s achy need, sending pin pricks of pleasure to overstimulated nerves. When she suckled on his tongue, the titanium arm shifted with a shrill whine.

She pulled back breathless, patting the hand once round Soldat’s throat on his sweaty chest. He mewled in frustration, rutting his cock into the air, no release on the horizon. The Russian cooed, “More kisses soon needy boy. You want my cock in you, да?”

Soldat nodded, tears dripping like a leaky faucet down his red red cheeks. The assassin spread his legs wide open, tucking heels against the meat of his ass. Komandir crooned, “Look at you, precious thing, all open and ready for my хуй.”

“Трахни меня! Fuck me!,” he sobbed.

She shushed him with a slight slap to a muscular thigh, wrapping them up around her hips afterward. A once-manicured hand guided the fake cock to the asset’s pink hole, glistening and ready with slick. He babbled, “Oh please- need it, командир, please!”

Without a pause she jabbed the entire length into his eager ass, pretty soldat crying in relief, ripping his big hands through the shitty sheets. She thrust into him deeper, before pulling out with a lurid squelch, then diving back in twice as hard.

The Komandir poured all over her anger, heartache, stupid stupid love, agony into the brutal fucking. The asset’s brown locks bounced around as he drooled and moaned like a slip of a thing getting her pussy split in half. He was in paradise. The woman grunted, smoothing her palms up his ridged torso, “Singing so sweetly baby, you feeling good star?”

“Y-yes,” he choked on his spit, “Gonna cum!”

She cocked her head in surprise, not missing a beat, “So soon, after I milked you out in the tub too? Greedy babe.” More tears leaked at the humiliation, the asset pulling her on top of his writhing body. He nuzzled into her sweaty hair, panting, “Mmmfuck, more, always more, never enough from you Komandir.”

Finding her own eyes growing wet the woman fucked him harder, shaking hand rolling his still swollen balls around. The asset mewled in her hair, getting it sticky with spit. His back was tightly arched as he clung to her. Behavior one wouldn’t see out of a six foot, two-hundred something pound killing machine.

He whimpered, “M’cumming, cumming for you, fuck!”

She seized his newly shaved chin and pressed damp foreheads together. The Russian breathed, “C’mon then, paint me up my precious. Good boys like you get to cum all they want.” He fell apart beautifully, all violent twitches of big muscles and the bloody biting of lips. Cum plastered her belly and even tits. The asset cried for his Komandir, trembling as she licked his tears up.

A feeling of time slipping struck the woman in the chest. In a fervent frenzy she coaxed him onto his belly, the soldier still dazed from the earlier release. The woman propped his ass up, praising the greatest creation of Hydra through her tears.

Die between his beautiful thighs.

She slid back into his sore hole, thumbing around the rim as she watched the stretch. Soldat snuffled, “Спасибо, Спасибо, Спасибо.” The brunette rutted back onto her brutal thrusts, bracing himself on his arms. Constant noises dried his mouth out but everything felt so good. His Komandir, back again to take care of the asset.

The Komandir was drilling his sweet spot dead-on now, moaning softly in delight. She pulled at her precious baby’s engorged cock and cooed in his ear, “Taking me so well, that’s my boy. I love you. You’re going to do big things,” he sobbed and spread out sluttily, “Bigger than me, Rumlow, Director, the whole lot of them.”

The asset was mewling and babbling, nose runny from how overwhelmed his body was. Everything felt like it was getting fucked on his touchstarved body. The cum getting forced out of his balls was spreading all over Komandir’s bed. But he was listening to her words, trying to, hard when he was about to explode.

“Promise me зимний солдат,” she whispered, “Promise me that when the chance comes you take it, okay sweetling? Do it for your Komandir who loves her star very much.” The woman couldn’t hide the crack in her voice at the end. Those gorgeous blues gazed at her like she was good, whole, someone who hung the moon and stars.

“глупая девчонка”, Vasily would say.

The woman kissed his blubbering lips to stop herself from crumpling. He panted, “I promise, I promise Komandir. I will cuh-comply.” He was puffing out weak cries now, twisting underneath her clumsy strokes. She swiped her thumb over the red hot tip of the asset’s cock and watched him spill for a third time, crumpling with a cracking wail. Only a bit spurted out this time.

The Komandir pressed her lips to the center of his spine, chest heaving. She sounded like a broken machine at this point. “Promise me, promise me precious star.” He wept, “I promise, I do, I love you, always follow my Komandir.”

The once prideful woman knew that was the last words her boy should utter. She eased out of his overtaxed hole, shushing him and holding on to that sweet little mewl for dear life. She took off the harness, aware of the soldier waiting. The woman would cuddle up for now, letting the soldier gather her up in his warm embrace. She snuggled tight, imprinting this moment into her soul.

His breath petered out into slow puff, mumbling ‘love you’ sleepily. The Komandir slid from his embrace, padding to the kitchen. Her heart was eerily calm. She knew this had to occur for the greatest creation of Hydra to rise above. His pain would fuel the fire of the future.

She scrawled out a letter, sweet as could be, apologizing for everything. The woman knew she deserved death. She wouldn’t make him do it. Ripping off the Hydra insignia necklace she kept on her neck was placed on the letter.

The woman moved the the couch and grabbed the gun. Shift, click, pray for me soldat, pull.

To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.

#READ THE TW AND TAGS #answered asks #bucky is touch starved #ws bucky gets his ass rammed #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #hydra trash party #hydra reader #angsty angst angst #songfic

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its-jaytothemee · 4 months ago

Text

Until I Met You - Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Those Left Behind

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 4,755

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav is still coming to terms with her brother's death while also trying to help Halsin get the information he so desperately needs about Thaniel. Part 29 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.

A/N: Sorry folks, we're not out of angst land yet. Thanks for hanging in there for a while longer between updates. I'm hoping to be able to do some more concentrated writing in the near future <3

Tav leaned against Halsin as they made the short hike back to camp. He kept one arm around her shoulders as they walked. Her mind and heart felt raw from the emotional whiplash of the day. Meeting Ketheric Thorm, freeing the cult’s prisoners, discovering a lead to banish the shadow curse, finding Tev, Halsin’s kiss. It was almost too much.

I care about you, Tav.

Once again, the simplest affirmations from him drew the sadness from her with ease. Unfortunately for her, the bottomless well that was her grief refilled itself quickly.

Still, it was nice to know that she hadn’t made a total fool of herself this morning.

“Hey, soldier,” Karlach called out to her softly as they came into view of the camp. Her eyes darted between her and Halsin. “Feeling better?”

“A bit, yeah.” Tav rubbed her eyes, still stinging from her tears. Halsin pulled her tighter against him, causing a broad smile to stretch across Karlach’s face.

“That’s good to hear. Come on, have a seat.” Karlach patted the spot next to her near the fire.

“Thanks, but we’re still going to Last Light. We’ll just rest there for the night.” Tav gave her a weak smile.

“Are you sure? Do you need us to come with you?” Wyll’s face was twisted with concern.

“I think we’ve taken care of the threat during our first excursion, but should anyone want to join you are of course welcome to do so,” Halsin assured him.

Karlach elbowed Wyll in the ribs before responding. “I’m sure they can handle it now that we took care of that last group of shadows.”

“Meet us there first thing in the morning?” Tav asked.

Everyone nodded their agreement along with a few more murmured condolences, except for Karlach, who responded with a wink. Tav just rolled her eyes in response, unable to help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

As they walked out of camp, Halsin reached down to lace their fingers together. The comforting feeling of his hand in hers helped steady her steps. Lunari padded along beside her, bumping into her legs every now and then.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

“I…I don’t know. I’m not sure what to talk about.” Tav sniffled. “I think part of me always knew he was gone. I just couldn't accept it without knowing.”

“Closure is a very powerful tool for moving past our grief, but it has a habit of opening up old wounds that didn’t heal properly the first time around. At least now you know his fate, horrible as it was. You can heal now, Tav. You can move on knowing that he’s now at peace.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Her tears returned and she leaned against his arm.

“It is anything but simple, my friend. Do not take my words as a dismissal of your pain. Everyone heals in their own time. It may take weeks, it may take years, but eventually the pain will dull, and the wound will mend once more.”

“Thank you, o wise and all-knowing Archdruid,” Tav mumbled, feeling a stab of guilt over her sarcasm. To her relief, Halsin just chuckled.

“Former Archdruid, but I suppose old habits die hard. If there’s anything I can do to help you, Tav, please let me know.”

She glanced down at their hands.

“This is good enough for now.”

He hummed in appreciation as she squeezed his hand.

They took the rest of their walk in silence. Tav buried her face in Halsin’s arm once they reached the small area where they had fought the shadows earlier. He kept a firm grip on her until they had passed. Before she knew it, they were crossing the bridge into the courtyard of Last Light once more. The courtyard was still bustling with its patrons, many of whom were now reunited with loved ones who had been captured.

She hated that such a happy sight made her feel so resentful.

“Are you ready?” She turned to ask Halsin.

“Lead the way.”

***

Halsin let Tav guide him back into Last Light Inn. Given the darkness choking the land, it was hard to tell the time of day, but he guessed it was getting late in the evening. Harpers, Flaming Fists, and refugees alike were still wandering about the grounds.

He did notice that there were a few more familiar faces around.

“The tieflings…” he saw Alfira had been joined by Lakrissa across the room, “you found them?”

“Some of them,” she replied in a low voice, “we still couldn’t find Arabella’s parents, or Zevlor, or Mol.”

“They weren’t being held at Moonrise?”

“Apparently not.”

Before he could respond, two tieflings came barreling up to Tav the moment she crossed the threshold of the inn.

“It’s you! You’re back!” The tiefling that spoke first was Bex, her husband, Danis, was one of the refugees that had been captured. “You left before we had a chance to thank you!”

Her hand shot out to grab Tav’s, pumping it up and down enthusiastically. Halsin squeezed the other hand tighter as he felt her tense at his side.

“Oh, of course…it was nothing.” Tav cleared her throat and forced a small smile onto her face.

“It was everything.” Danis came up to shake Tav’s hand as soon as Bex dropped it. “I thought I would be rotting away in that tower, without getting to see my love’s face one last time. To be reunited when I had all but given up…”

Halsin watched as Tav’s lips quivered at his words and felt her fingers dig into his hand.

“Happy to help,” she barely breathed the words out.

“Here, we don’t have much, but I made these for you.” Bex reached into a small bag and handed her a cloth package.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” Tav took the offering with a trembling hand before stashing it away in her pack.

Halsin tried to lead her into the next room, but yet another group of grateful refugees swarmed them.

“Oh, thank the gods! I thought for sure you had left for the night!” Two more tieflings pushed Bex and Danis out of the way to get to Tav. He recognized them now, they were siblings. Their brother, Rolan, was meant to go to Baldur’s Gate to be an apprentice to a wizard there.

“Cal and Lia have told me that you were responsible for their return.” Rolan approached them with an embarrassed look on his face.

“Most people would just say thank you, Rolan,” Cal said as he nudged Rolan’s arm.

“I had help,” Tav added, her lips still quivering as she tried to force them into a smile.

“And modest, too?” Lia laughed as she looped an arm around one of Rolan’s.

“I suppose I was…harsh on you before. You have my sincere thanks for returning these two assholes to me,” Rolan smiled.

“Yes, thank you for helping my idiot siblings,” Cal teased back.

“My pleasure,” Tav’s quiet voice was almost lost in the commotion of Last Light, “think nothing of it.”

Halsin could just barely see the tears forming in her eyes and hear the subtle uneasiness in her breathing.

“I’m terribly sorry, my friends,” he interjected before the tieflings could speak up again, “I’m afraid Tav has had a very tiring day and is in desperate need of some rest.”

“Of course! I was exhausted from just watching you fight, I can’t imagine how you feel. We’ll talk to you again soon I’m sure.” Danis gave another grateful smile before pulling Bex away as well.

“Right, we’ll leave you to it. Thanks again!” Lia called over her shoulder as she walked outside with her brothers.

Tav stood frozen in place as she watched them walk away, arm in arm.

“Tav?” he called out quietly.

She didn’t respond, a few tears simply rolled down her cheeks. He felt guilty all of a sudden, for dragging her back here to see happy reunions all around her. Everyone around Last Light had been given a new surge of happiness, of hope.

And she had just lost hers just a few hours before.

He wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but his mouth may as well have been filled with cotton. Luckily for him, Jaheira had wandered over to greet them.

“I didn’t expect to see you back tonight, little ranger.”

Her voice snapped Tav out of whatever spiral had taken hold.

“High Harper,” Tav sniffled and stood up a bit straighter before continuing, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“No need for such formalities, my friend. Jaheira suits me just fine.” She flashed a crooked smile at them.

“Of course, I uh,” Tav took a shaky breath, “I had to bring Halsin back to speak to the Flaming Fist. He could have information about how to dispel the shadows.”

“Truly? That is quite a fortunate coincidence.” Jaheira started to say something else, but her face fell as she took notice of Tav’s reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

Her eyes shifted to Halsin, who gave a small shake of his head.

“But that is a conversation that can be held for later, you look exhausted, Tav.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small key.

“What’s this?” Tav asked, confusion apparent on her face.

“It is a key my very perceptive friend.” She pressed it into Tav’s palm. “Upstairs, second door on the left. There’s a room with the materials for a bath. I think you could use one, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“A…a bath?” A bit of brightness returned to her eyes at the offer. “Thank you.”

“I’d be happy to show Halsin to the Flaming Fist.” Halsin saw her eyes dart down to their hands, still entwined in a comfortable grip. “Unless you two are…” she trailed off as she tried to find the words.

Tav panicked and dropped his hand, her endearing blush creeping across her face.

“Thank you, Jaheira, I appreciate it.” She gave him a sheepish look as she sulked off toward the stairs. Lunari flopped down beside Halsin, resting her head on her paws.

“Tav?” he called out before he could stop himself. She turned around slowly and cocked her head to the side.

“I’ll…I’ll be right down here when you’re done.”

She nodded with a small smile before disappearing up the stairs.

“Tell me, Halsin, what happened?” Jaheira turned to him as soon as Tav was out of view.

“We found her brother, Tev’aron.”

“You…you found him? How is that poss–” The realization dawned on her just as she started to speak.

“I see.” She hung her head for a moment. “What was his fate?”

“He was part of a group of shadow cursed Harpers that ambushed us.”

“It was a dim hope that she would find him alive. It doesn’t make me any less sorry to hear that.” Her eyes moved back to the stairs. “How is she?”

“Devastated, from what I can tell.” Halsin recalled her heartbreaking screams as she held her brother’s dead body. The thought alone was enough to bring tears back to his eyes.

“I must warn you, this Flaming Fist is likely a dim hope as well. And yet, she made the dangerous trek through shadow to bring you here.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “A Harper at heart.”

Halsin smiled alongside her. “She doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Regardless, I worry that she will continue to chase these dim hopes. Pouring her own light into them to keep them sheltered and lit until she is naught but a shadow herself.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Halsin promised her.

“See that you don’t.” Jaheira had a way of turning simple words into an order.

“I worry more about what will happen when she no longer has the curse or Ketheric Thorm to concentrate on. Even their fight against the Absolute will serve as some form of distraction. But after that…” He trailed off, not wanting to think about that himself either.

But Jaheira apparently did.

“And what about you, Halsin? What will you do once you no longer have Ketheric Thorm or the shadows to keep your mind distracted?”

Halsin’s breath caught. It was a question he hadn’t dared to ask himself in so long.

“I suppose I’ll have to find a new distraction.” As hard as he fought it, he couldn’t keep his eyes from following Tav. Jaheira stifled a laugh as she followed his gaze.

“The Fist you’re looking for is in that room right over there.” She tilted her head toward a room to his right. “I trust you’re capable of making it inside on your own, unless you still need a hand to hold?”

He narrowed his eyes at her before walking through the doorway, Lunari trailing behind him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out the quiet song coming from a man across the room.

Halsin took a seat on the bed next to the slumbering Fist, taking a deep breath to refocus himself.

The first sound he heard was humming, the second was a name. A name that brought tears to his eyes and a new swell of hope in his chest.

Thaniel.

***

Despite the last two days weighing on her shoulders, Tav allowed herself a fleeting moment of respite. It had been weeks since she could take a proper bath. Since their abduction, they had been resigned to quick, freezing rinses in creeks and rivers, hardly enough to wash away the grime and filth they had been wading through. Letting out a heavy sigh as she sank into the warm water, she took her time scrubbing the dirt and dried blood from her skin and hair.

Satisfied with her freshly cleaned skin, she drew her knees up close to her chest. Once again, her grief came back to weigh her down, threatening to drown her in the bath.

A memory came creeping into the front of her mind, one of her last memories of Tev.

Tav’ahria stormed out of the tavern where Tev had asked her to meet him.

“Come on, Ria, I don’t want us to part ways on a fight,” Tev’aron yelled after her.

“What do you want me to say, Tev? You told me we’d stick together, and now you’re leaving me behind.” She was having a hard time keeping the deep hurt out of her voice.

“It’s not like I have much of a choice, the High Harper is taking her squad to Reithwin, and that includes me.” He had to jog to catch up to her as she stomped away.

“You could ask to transfer, you could stay here in Amn.” A pang of guilt stabbed her in the gut for asking that of him. He had worked hard over the past three years to be in the company of Jaheira, the legendary hero of Baldur’s Gate.

“Is that what you’re asking me to do?” His tone softened a bit as he caught up with her. “Ria, please, just…”

Tev reached out and grabbed her wrist. She refused to meet his eyes.

“Come on, talk to me. Ever since you broke things off with Sylia you’ve been extra moody, you know that?”

She reached up to touch the fresh scars lining her nose and cheek. A parting gift from her scorned former lover. Tav’ahria took note on ending a relationship in a gentler fashion in the future. Especially if the partner in question favored a wild shape that gave them extra sharp talons to attack her with.

“This has nothing to do with her, and you know it,” she snapped back.

“Are you sure? Because honestly, Tav’ahria, when you were getting laid consistently you were much more–”

She cut his teasing off with a quick knee to the groin, causing him to drop the hand he had been holding.

“You were saying?” She smiled at him sweetly and batted her eyelashes.

“I…was saying…” he wheezed between words as he remained hunched over, “that there’s…something else…bothering…you.”

He wasn’t wrong.

The fact of the matter was, the Harpers had always been Tev’s dream, not hers. She had enjoyed the last few years, if anything because she was far away from their family. Many of her new peers had even gone from casual acquaintances to friends.

But now, he was leaving her to chase those dreams. As much as she hated herself for it, she resented him for leaving her behind.

“You’re leaving, Tev. Whether it’s fully under your control or not, that’s what’s happening.” Tav’ahria looked away from him again, trying to hide the misty haze clouding her eyes.

“I’m just going on assignment, Ria. It’s not like I’m being banished to another plane of existence,” he said, still catching his breath.

“You might as well be,” she whispered back.

“I know this will be the furthest we’ve been apart in some time, but neither one of us will be alone.”

“I know, I just…I really thought I’d never see you again that first night you ran away. And now…” she sniffled, “now I have that same feeling.”

“And yet, I came back. I’m not going anywhere, my sweet sister.” He pulled her into a hug.

“You only call me that when you want something,” she muttered into his shoulder.

“Yes, I want to go to Moonrise Towers with my squad,” he pulled away so he could look down at her, “but if you ask it of me, if you really need me to do so, I’ll stay here with you.”

Yes, I want you to stay here with me. I can’t stand the thought of being left alone in this world.

Without you here, I’m afraid I’ll go back.

The words in her mind brought years of guilt crashing down on her. For so long, Tev had held back to protect her, to help her. Now they were free, free to make their own choices, free to forge their own paths. Yet he still held himself back for her.

She had a chance to repay him now, for everything he had done for her.

“No, Tev. I don’t ask you to do that.” She leaned back into him.

“Thank you, Ria.”

Tav’ahria took a few deep breaths before letting him go.

“Besides, it’s just another squabble between a few Sharrans and Selûnites. Once territory is marked again and they’re sent on their merry ways, we’ll be heading back. That region has been occupied by followers of Selûne for longer than either of us have been alive, I doubt this will be a lengthy affair,” he assured her.

She could only manage a nod in response.

“I’ll write to you. Don’t worry,” he leaned over to kiss the top of her head, “a tenday from now we’ll be back together.”

“You’d better find someone else to tame that mop of hair on your head while you’re gone.” She reached up to tuck a runaway curl back among the others.

“No promises.” He swatted her hand away with feigned annoyance while she tried to rearrange more of his hair. As he turned to head back into the tavern, she fought the tears welling up in her eyes watching him leave.

“I love you, Tev,” she called after him as he ran away.

“I love you, Ria.” He gave her one more big, dimpled smile before disappearing into the tavern.

When she finally brought herself to open her eyes again, she was back in Last Light.

You didn’t come back this time, Tev.

She stayed curled up in the bath until the water had cooled, her fingers and toes had pruned, and the salty lines of tears on her face had dried.

No use wallowing in a cold bath.

She forced her legs to stand again, the noble blood in her veins fighting every move as she dressed herself in the dirty clothes she’d been wearing for weeks.

Still, the hot bath did wonders for her sore muscles, even if it did make her incredibly tired.

Tav gathered up her belongings and dragged her feet back down the stairs. By the time she had emerged, the commotion in the inn had died down. Only a few Harpers remained awake, drinking and laughing at the bar. She didn’t see Jaheira anywhere, so she just tucked the key she was given back into her pocket.

Trying to avoid any further conversations, she kept her eyes fixed on the floor as she walked into the room where Art Cullagh remained gripped by a magical slumber.

Halsin sat on the edge of the bed adjacent to the Fist’s. His eyes were closed as he held a hand out in front of him, lost in concentration. Lunari perked up from her spot at his feet.

“So, did you learn anything?” she asked softly, her quiet voice still startled Halsin out of his meditation.

“Tav!” His face lit up when he saw her, she just wished it made her feel better. “Come, join me.” He patted the spot next to him on the bed.

She sulked over and placed her bag and armor at the foot of the bed before taking a seat, making sure to give her wolf companion a few scratches behind her ears on the way.

“I’ve learned precious little, I’m afraid. But there’s at least no doubt that he’s met Thaniel. There’s no other way he would know that name.” Halsin began to eagerly explain his meditations from the last hour, but she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open.

“…Tav?” He gave her a gentle nudge.

She shot up, realizing she had fallen over on his shoulder.

“Sorry, love. I guess I’m just a bit more tired than I thought.”

“It’s quite alright.” He placed an arm around her and rested his head on hers. “Rest, Tav. We can talk more in the morning.”

A small bout of panic ripped through her. She didn’t really want to rest; she was terrified of what she might see in her dreams.

Her heart rate sped up, causing her chest to tighten with anxiety and grief, Halsin seemed to sense something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“I…” Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t bear the possibility of seeing Tev’s dead body in her arms again. Not wanting to have another breakdown here in Last Light, she squeezed her eyes shut once more. It didn’t stop her lips from trembling and her breath from hitching audibly.

“Tav…” Halsin’s soothing voice had quieted, and she felt his hands encase hers.

“I can’t rest, Halsin,” she whispered, “every time I close my eyes, I just see him.”

When she opened her eyes again, he was kneeling on the floor in front of her.

“What can I do, Tav?” he asked, his eyes searching hers for an answer.

She couldn’t form any words. Grief maintained its clawed grip on her mind. So instead, she just began to sob.

Halsin immediately pulled her into his arms.

“It’s alright, Tav, it’s alright,” he said the words over and over in her ear as he held her head against him.

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

“It’s my fault, Halsin…” she gasped into his shoulder.

“What?” He pushed her back a little so he could look at her. “Why do you say that?”

“Because…” she choked out.

She told Halsin about the last time she had seen Tev. How he had offered to stay with her, but she let him go with Jaheira and her squad.

“Oh, Tav…” he trailed off before hugging her tight again.

“I could…asked…to stay…might…be here…” She could barely get the words out between her sobs.

“Listen to me,” his voice had shifted to a more forceful tone, but he still held her with such a gentle touch, “you cannot blame yourself for his death. You cannot take that weight onto your shoulders, my friend. Believe me when I say it will crush you.”

“But…”

Halsin cut her off by taking her face in both of his hands.

“Tav, you got called to Moonrise anyway. Even if he had stayed with you, there is no guarantee that he would have survived. You saw the raw chaos that took over the battlefield that day.”

“You don’t understand! Tev was all that I had. The hope that I could find him again was all that I had, as foolish as that hope was…” she paused for another bout of sobs. “Now what do I have? No family, no home…”

As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. The pain in Halsin’s expression adding to the ever growing pile of her guilt.

“I do understand. I lost my closest friends, my mentor who was like a father to me, I lost Thaniel. The grove has been the only home I’ve known for over two hundred years and now I…” He shook his head lightly before looking back up at her.

“And you do have a family, Tav. You have an entire camp full of new friends who would do anything for you, who would follow you anywhere.”

She wrapped her arms tight around her torso. The muscles in her chest and shoulders had grown sore from her cries.

“And you have me,” he said with tears in his eyes.

Tav reached up to hold one of the hands cradling her face.

“We have both carried a great deal of sorrow and guilt over the last century. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have found someone who shares that burden with me. You’ve done so much for me already, let me ease some of the weight from your shoulders. Let me help you, Tav.”

She let out a shaky breath and rested her forehead against his.

“Now, please rest. I’ll watch over Art Cullagh. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

She nodded and turned to lay down on the small bed.

“Will you stay here with me?” she asked, keeping a tight grip on his hand.

“Of course,” he responded as she closed her eyes. “Wherever you need me.”

Just before she drifted off, she felt him place a light kiss on the back of her hand.

***

Halsin held Tav’s hand in his until he was confident that she had drifted off into a trance. His heart truly ached for her. Not only was she leading the fight against a cult of mind flayers, a cult being led by the man responsible for her hardship, but she was also wading through one hundred years’ worth of grief to do it.

He leaned over to press a gentle kiss into her hair. The strands were still damp from her bath earlier and he smelled pine mixed with another sweet scent that he couldn’t quite identify.

Watching her face slowly relax into a peaceful look brought a wave of relief washing over him. He wanted nothing more than to lay down beside her, to hold her close throughout the night and chase any nightmares away. He wanted to bury his face in her freshly washed hair, concentrating on the new smell to distract him from his own grief and guilt.

Once again, his life allowed no room for such desires.

“May your dreams be kind,” he whispered in Elvish before sitting back up. He gently placed her hand that he had been holding back at her side before turning his attention to the Flaming Fist.

Halsin sat and studied Art Cullagh in his slumber. Nothing about the song he kept repeating gave him any specific ideas of where to find Thaniel.

Climb, climb, climbing up a tree.

That could be anywhere. Thaniel loved to climb trees, it was one of his favorite ways to spend an afternoon.

We are living, they are dead.

Again, that could have been anywhere, but it did give Halsin another confirmation that Thaniel was at least alive somewhere.

The more he concentrated on the man, the more it became obvious that he had been imprisoned in the Shadowfell. Yet try as he might, Halsin couldn’t determine his connection to Thaniel. The man’s mind was fractured and fading away. If they were not delicate and precise in their manner of doing so, waking him could likely result in his death. He shuddered at the realization. If they didn’t find a way to wake Art Cullagh from his stupor, their one chance at banishing the shadows could be lost to him forever.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #halsin fanfic #halsin silverbough #oakflower

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fictionobsession · 1 year ago

Text

Learning Hurts

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Tav

Summary: Tav totally wanted to learn how to handle a dagger.

Word Count: 2,232

Warnings: knives, blood, maybe ooc astarion sorry, not beta'd

A/N: This is my first time writing a full-length fic in... a minute, so please forgive anything that doesn't make sense lolol but the Astarion brainrot would not leave me alone so you get this, you're welcome or smth

The sun was just beginning to set on their little camp as Tav leaned back, hands folded behind their head, watching the routine the group had so easily fallen into. Gale was ordering Wyll to bring him various ingredients that had been left around the camp. Karlach was arm-wrestling Lae'zel for the hundredth time, the latter sporting a triumphant grin at her unbroken winning streak. Shadowheart was using the time for her nightly meditations. And Astarion, never helping or socializing unless explicitly asked, was sitting outside his tent sharpening his blades.

Tav didn't stop themself staring at the way he inspected his work, running a long, slender finger along the deadly edge. They didn't try to tear their eyes away as he twirled the dagger, paying close attention to the way the firelight danced across the metal. Astarion balanced the dagger on one finger, flipped it once, twice, like he wanted to be sure it hadn't lost its balance somewhere along the way. Flip, twirl, catch. Flip, catch, turn. Tav was mesmerized by the dexterous movements of hand and knife, not noticing the smirk that had found its way to the rogue's face, or the sudden increase in complexity of the knife's ministrations.

“I can teach you some tricks if you really find it that interesting.”

Tav's gaze snapped up at the smirk they heard rather than saw, and caught the teasing glint in those lovely red eyes across from them. Tav cleared their throat, trying to sound at least somewhat normal, cringing when their voice still came out as a squeak. “oh, uh, yeah? Yeah! The knife work is very interesting. That sounds fun!”

He motioned to the space next to him, but Tav was rooted in place, looking back and forth between his eyes and the gesture.

“Come on, darling. I won't bite unless you ask me to.”

Tav felt their mouth run dry, and they swallowed hard, trying to contain any reaction they most certainly did not have to that particular statement. They knew they had failed, though, when they heard the snort of laughter Astarion graciously attempted to disguise as a cough – an attempt that may have worked if not for the crinkles at the corners of his eyes giving him away. Tav glared at him in what they hoped was at least a vaguely threatening way before taking a deep breath and moving to hover in from of his tent, a respectable distance from the man himself.

The elf rolled his eyes, an unfortunately common sight for Tav, handing them his off-hand dagger and promptly closing the respectable distance. “Alright, darling, we're going to start very simple, since you're just as like to stab yourself as the enemy half the time.”

It was a joke, or at least mostly a joke (excluding that one time), but Tav's face went hot with embarrassment anyway. They held the dagger like it might try to jump from their grip, knuckles white from the pressure. Astarion raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for Tav to figure it out. They loosened their grip a bit, rubbing a thumb over the lightly worn leather on the hilt, the texture grounding them and letting some of their anxieties disappate. They tried a few different ways to hold it, almost cutting themselves more than once, before Astarion found himself reaching out to adjust their grip. Both pause at the contact, but Astarion quickly waved it off with a murmured excuse. “Wouldn't be much of a teacher if I let you hurt yourself in the first five seconds, would I?”

He took a step back, pulling out his own dagger and showing off a quick grip change that looked like a simple flick in and then out. Tav recognized it faintly as the way they'd seen him reposition after a stealth attack on an enemy. Not that they were paying attention to his hand positioning in combat, just simply watching for timing for the rest of the group, of course. “It's important to be able to switch like this so you can react to enemies from multiple directions without adjusting your whole stance,” he explained as he demonstrated a few more times. Tav started to move slowly, clumsily, tucking the blade back and down, then out again. They kept at it, increasing speed as they went, until they got it pretty close to what Astarion was doing. They looked up, pleased with their progress, just in time to see an unfamiliar expression swiftly disappear from his face. If someone didn't know better, they might've described it as fond. Luckily, Tav knew better. “Sorry that took a minute, I know it should've been easy. Could you show me how to do the flip thing you were doing earlier?”

Astarion's brow furrowed at the request, and he was already shaking his head before the question was finished. “Absolutely not. You can barely do this, and I will not be responsible for - “ he noticed the pathetic, begging, ridiculous eyes Tav was giving him. Normally, he would've been unaffected by anyone's big doe eyes, but something about Tav at that moment, he couldn't bring himself to say no. “Oh, alright. But when you hurt yourself, I will not be feeling sorry for you. Are we clear?”

Tav nodded fervently, afraid he'd change his mind.

“I said, are we clear? Use your words, darling, or I'm putting these away.” A quick gesture with his knife, that playful gleam in his eye. Tav knew he was trying to get under their skin, make them uncomfortable enough to walk away from their little lesson. But Tav, stubborn as they were, would never give him the satisfaction. They brought their eyes up to meet his, back straight, exuding a confidence they weren't sure they actually possessed.

“Yes, sir. Very clear.”

And if they allowed themselves a satisfied grin when Astarion almost dropped his dagger, well, nobody needed to know.

He blinked hard, face contorting into another unfamiliar expression, this one almost akin to his “I just got punched in the face” expression, before he resumed his normal aloof grin. He tossed his dagger, letting it flip twice in the air before catching it. He shook his head and tossed it again, only letting it flip once before catching it this time. He did it again, again, again. Finally he nodded approvingly and turned back to Tav. “Alright, you're going to try to flip it once, like this, and then step back. You want to flip it forward so it goes more away from you than towards you. Then you let it fall to the ground. I don't want you to try to catch it yet. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

They felt the weight of the blade in their hand and tried to avoid looking directly at Astarion, lest their hands start to shake. They took a deep breath, tossed the knife harder than anticipated, and watched as it flipped not once, not twice, but three times before gravity pulled it back down...point first. Tav's eyes widened as Astarion yanked them away, their back suddenly flush against his chest. The surprise wore off quickly, replaced by embarrassment when they felt rather than heard their companion's laughter from behind them. Astarion didn't try to hide it, forehead hitting Tav's shoulder as he shook with giggles. They pulled themself from his arms and stumbled to pick up the dagger from where it had stuck perfectly in the ground, glaring at the still-laughing rogue.

“Are you sure you want to learn this?” The elf managed to huff the question between bouts of giggles. Tav narrowed their eyes in his direction, causing him to throw his hands up in surrender. “Maybe try that a few more times before you attempt catching it then, if you think you can manage to not stab yourself in the head.”

Tav's outrage came out as a very dignified squawk. “You – I'm only distracted because you're watching! Quit looking!”

“I didn't realize I made you so nervous.” An eyebrow cocked in amusement. Tav fought the urge to stomp their foot in a childish fit of annoyance. “Fine, fine. I'll turn around. Just make sure you step out of the way, please. I really would hate to lose my favorite traveling companion.” A wink shot Tav's way as Astarion turned to watch the flames of the campfire.

He stayed facing the fire for what seemed like ages, listening in barely concealed amusement to the thumps of the knife hitting the ground, almost always followed by a huff or grumble of annoyance, until he heard the faintest oh instead. “What's wrong, my dear? Tired of dropping things yet?”

“Uhm...” His eyes narrowed as Tav trailed off. “Yes, I think I might... might need to practice more a different time.”

Their voice was shaky and weaker than usual, none of their confidence and joking nature present. Astarion whirled around, unmasked concern evident on his face. The first thing he noticed were the tears pooling in Tav's eyes. The second thing was the intoxicating scent of their blood hitting him full force. His lips dropped into a perfect o as he stared at the drip, drip, drip of blood falling from Tav's fingers.

“Astarion? I'm sorry, I know you said you weren't going to feel bad. It's okay, my fault for trying to catch it, really. Please don't be mad.” Their small voice brought him back to the moment, only slightly disgusted with himself for getting distracted.

“Oh, love, what have you done?” He took two long strides toward them, grabbing their hand. He rubbed a thumb so gently near the wound, gauging the depth and severity. His expression softened as he looked up at Tav. “I'm not mad at you, but it must hurt. Do you want me to go get Shadowheart?”

“No!” Tav winced at the forcefulness of their own words. “No, no one needs to know how ridiculous this was.”

“They are right across camp, I'm sure they'll know regardless. Besides that, you shouldn't have to be in pain just because you're clumsy, you know.” He pulled his hand away, and caught Tav watching him inspect the blood left on his thumb. He brought the thumb to his mouth and licked a bit of the blood off, smirking at Tav's nose scrunching up in response. “Delicious.”

Tav reached up to smack his shoulder lightly with their uninjured hand.

“Sorry, love. I just can't help myself.” He paused before continuing. “Hm. Well, if you're insistent on suffering, can I at least help you clean up?”

Tav's imagination immediately took over, providing detailed visuals of how Astarion might “clean up” a bloody mess, which did not help the tightness in their stomach caused by him licking the last of the blood off his own fingers. Their mind wandered from there, unbidden images of Astarion, always teasing, always flirting, using that beautiful mouth for licking, kissing, biting... They shook the thoughts from their head, just in time to see him emerging from his tent with a cloth too clean to be found anywhere nearby. He held it up to them, offering to literally just clean the wound.

Tav sighed, mentally reprimanding themselves for having those thoughts about a companion, a friend, that clearly just wants to help. It had been a while, they justified to themself, since they had found anyone as intriguing, mysterious, hilarious, attractive as Astarion. There was no crime there, right? It didn't mean anything, and certainly wasn't anything they would act upon. Friends could have the occasional thought about each other right? It didn't matter that it was always the same friend. Or that those thoughts were certainly becoming more than occasional at this point. Gods, they were fucked. This would definitely be a problem later.

Tav's inner monologue continued as Astarion took the white cloth, folded it twice before taking Tav's warm hand in his cold one again and wrapping the cloth around the injury. He winced along with them as he tightened the bandage.

“'m sorry. I'll be done in a moment. I have to wrap it tightly enough to stop the bleeding.” Tav had never seen such a naked look of emotion on the man's face. They felt like they might faint, not from the blood loss, but from the sheer amount of concern present there.

“It's okay, Star. I know you wouldn't hurt me on purpose.” The smile Tav gave him could have outshone the sun. Astarion suddenly found himself with shaking hands, unable to identify what the hells this feeling was. He tried to finish the wrapping quickly, wanting to put distance between himself and the object of his racing thoughts. He turned Tav's hand, making sure the bandage was secure from all angles, and stalked toward the woods without a word.

Tav calling his name got only the slightest pause. “Thank you for trying to teach me. And for cleaning me up. You didn't have to do that.”

His steps stuttered, and he turned, not quite facing them, though they could see the pained look on his face anyway. “I think I did.”

He slipped out of view, leaving Tav standing, head tilted like a confused puppy, staring after him, completely unaware of the crisis of self they had just thrust upon the unsuspecting vampire spawn.

#astarion x tav #astarion x gn!tav #bg3 fic #astarion fic #please thank you and also sorry #d writes

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