#he needs a brushin’

[basiatlu]

for the art meme thing could you do 1a as wolfstar !! love ur art , no pressure !!

Oh thank you so much!! Yes I do believe I can squeeze in a lil more wolfstar into my day 😘 How about a freshly reunited duo circa Prisoner of Azkaban? Or well about as fresh as Sirius can manage after the 12 years of incarceration plus a good 9 months living on the run and in the Forbidden Forest …

[pinkydude]

[gloomwitchwrites]

By the Belt (1 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, light gagging, rough oral sex, praise

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

If you’re going to start something, you better get on your knees and finish it.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // by the belt masterlist

“You know what you’re doing?”

Your fingers freeze around the soft leather of Simon’s belt. The cold metal of the buckle bites against the edge of your index finger. Just seconds ago, you were eager, wanting to show him that you could take the lead for once. That you could initiate and show a bit of dominance in this relationship.

But Simon’s words freeze all further movement. You are solidified. You are made of ice.

With Simon looming in front of you like a shadow, you realize just how wrong you are. Simon is the dominate one in the relationship. He is the one who always shows you just how much he desires you. That doesn’t mean he forces himself on you—Simon always respects your boundaries—but he’s not shy about telling you what he wants.

Some days, it’s like Simon can read your mind, initiating when you’re in the mood but haven’t made the first move yet. He’s damn good about figuring you out and knowing what you need.

As your fingers begin to fall away, Simon is quick to snatch your wrist, returning your hand to his belt.

“Finish what you started,” he says, voice raspy behind the balaclava. “Never known you to be shy.”

A bit of sweet teasing bleeds into his tone, and your cheeks immediately heat from the compliment. Because Simon is right. You’re not shy with him. Never have been. He opens you up like a broken geode.

Fingers curling around the leather and tangling with the buckle, you move with slow deliberateness. You’re showing Simon your intention. With buckle undone, you slide the belt from the loops and gently toss it to the side.

Simon remains still, an invitation to continue. He won’t step in. He won’t do anything until he’s ready. He rarely acts in desperation. The control this man has is downright sinful.

The zipper and button are next. Your hands rest there, your gaze admiring in the slight bulge in Simon’s pants. His arousal is apparent, and that only curls something hot in your belly. The moment you have his pants loose around his hips, you slide your hands inside, intending to draw them down, but Simon seizes your wrists, hauling you off the couch to land on your knees.

“You’ll take it like this,” he says before releasing your wrists. The gravelly quality to his voice is enough to break thick glass. It sends a shiver through you, signaling every nerve to fire, driving your own desire for him higher.

Simon’s command is enough for you to return your hands to him, revealing enough of him for you to touch. He is already hard, but when you wrap your fingers around the base, there is a slight softness there. He is turned on by this, but not completely.

But you’ve only just started.

With Simon, his mood changes in how he likes it. Sometimes, he just wants to fuck your mouth, to claim it like he would your cunt, to listen to you choke and gag around him, to watch the tears form in your eyes. Other times, Simon likes it when you take your time, enjoying yourself as much as he’s enjoying watching you please him.

But right now, Simon says nothing. His hands are at his sides, motionless. His gaze is alert and intense, completely focused on your face. The silence is its own sort of pleasure. Its own form of anticipation. You have no idea what Simon might be thinking. All you know is that you were the one who reached for him, who grabbed him by the belt and tugged him close.

Your hand tightens around him, and you hear the soft inhale. Kissing the tip, you drag your lips up and down the base, gently kissing until you meet your hand only to come back up again. Your other hand lightly cups his balls, squeezes gentle, and your lips part, tongue tip brushing on the underside of the head.

His eyelids flutter, but otherwise Simon remains still. Unmoving.

With tongue and hand, it isn’t long before Simon is throbbing in your palm. It’s sweet victory.

But the moment is shattered when you begin to go in. Simon moves, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip. Obediently, you open your mouth and Simon’s thumb slides inside. Your lips close around him. Sucking. Releasing. When you open again, it’s not Simon’s thumb but the head of his cock there wanting entrance.

Your tongue darts out, brushes over the slit to lick up a pearl bead of precum before sliding underneath as length of him penetrates. This insistence signals you to what Simon wants, and the very thought has heat pooling between your legs, drawing forth a slickness that begs to be satiated.

Simon’s hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, tangling in your hair, gripping it fiercely. It’s a tight enough hold that is causes you to gasp. With the widening of your mouth, Simon slides move of his cock inside. The response is a whimper. A vibration in your throat against his dick that has Simon moaning.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Stay still.”

That one command—those two words—say much more than that. Simon is telling you that he doesn’t want slowness. That he doesn’t want you to take your time. He’s going to take until he’s spilling down your throat.

Your grip around the base of his cock eases until both hands are firmly planted on his thighs, fingers lightly digging into the fabric of his pants. It’s the only anchor you have. And you do, you do stay still, but it’s not like you could move your head even if you wanted.

Simon’s grip on the back of your head doesn’t cease. It keeps you there as his hips start to roll in shallow thrusts, ones that act as a simple tease for what’s to come. This is what you wanted after all, to get him worked up, to push him over the edge.

And you’ve done that, because as you moan around his cock, Simon’s thrusts increase until you’re nearly gagging on him, an immovable hole for him to fuck and use in whatever way he wishes.

You could drown in this. Suffocate. And you’d fucking thank him afterward.

Simon is relentless, using your mouth and throat for himself. Taking and taking until saliva is dripping on your chin and tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck, love. You look so beautiful,” groans Simon. “Full of my cock.” His eyelids flutter. Close. Open partly. “You take my cock perfectly. The best, love.”

The praise is a song that wraps around your ribcage, squeezing.

Simon’s hips stutter. His head dips back, the balaclava stretching to revealing the faintest flash of throat.

“Swallow,” he groans. “Every fucking drop.”

The hot burst of him explodes in your mouth. With his cock in your mouth. It’s a bit difficult to swallow. It’s only when he starts to ease out a bit that you’re able to do it. The head of him releases with a wet pop.

Without prompting, you show him your empty mouth.

Simon’s thumb wipes away the mess on your chin and lips.

“Good girl,” he breathes, chest heaving slightly. “Back on the couch. Open those gorgeous legs for me. It’s your turn.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Love Bites | Old School Love Universe

summary: harry's not fed in a while and you just want to help.

word count: 2.1k

read time: 9 min

content warnings⚠️: vampire!harry x human!reader, fluff, angst (if you squint), mentions of biting and blood and vampire biology

a/n: i guess this is a series now? haha enjoy!

Old School Love Universe

For the last week Harry has been avoiding you, which is very unlike your boyfriend. A complete deviation from his normal, arguably clingy, behavior. He’d answer your texts, but would find every excuse not to see you, and your phone calls always seemed to be cut short. You knew it probably had nothing to do with you, but it was beginning to hurt your feelings.  Especially after turning a corner in your relationship following some doubts he’d been having about whether or not you really didn’t mind he was a vampire, you were worried about this seemingly massive step backwards. So you did what any rational girlfriend would do after being ignored by their boyfriend for a week. You showed up at his front door. 

Is forcing a confrontation with Harry a good idea? Probably not. But as the days went on you went from annoyed that Harry was ignoring your text to sad to down right worried about him. So you told yourself it was nothing more than a wellness check, and marched across town to his apartment. 

You exited the elevator of his building, and headed to his door to see a few packages at his front door. He either hadn’t bothered to open his door in a few days or worse, he hadn't been home since he left your apartment last week. 

You didn’t want to panic, he was a vampire he could take care of himself, you're sure of it. But the ‘what if’ swarmed your mind as you lifted your fist knocking on the door. You didn’t hear anything for a moment and decided to knock again. This time you hear some rustling on the other side. 

“Harry. I can hear you in there.” you sigh, relieved at some proof of life. 

After a few moments and more shuffling from the other side of the door, he opens the front door just a crack peeking his head out just barely. Still you can see he doesn’t look like himself.  He looks tired, skin dull with bags under his eyes, and a major case of  bedhead, despite it being mid afternoon. The worry that had dissipated at the knowledge that he was at least safe at home, came back at the sight of him. 

“Doll, what are you doing here?” Harry asks tightly. 

“Open the door and we can talk about it.” you pout, giving him your best doe eyes. 

“You shouldn’t be here, baby.” 

“And why’s that?” 

He looks down shifting his feet, shifting his weight “I - I haven’t fed in a while.” He admits and your need to be close to him grows, although he's determined to keep his distance. 

“Harry, let me in.” you plea, but he shakes his head. 

“Baby Doll, I really shouldn’t.” He wants to let you in, but he’s scared, terrified actually. He knows he won’t hurt you. He’d do everything in his power to make sure that you were safe, which is why he’s iced you out recently. But he’s also never been around you while being as hungry as he is now. His plan was to keep his distance until he was able to reup on his blood bags, get fed and then give you all the cuddles and kisses to make up for him going MIA. You showing up at his door unannounced was not part of the plan. 

“Open the door Harry…please.” There’s a bit of edge to your voice but your eyes are soft and full of sympathy. 

He chuckles a little, shaking his head at your attitude.  My stubborn girl, he thinks. He should have known you weren’t going to leave him be, especially after not having seen him in so long. He opens the door slowly, stepping aside and allowing you to come in. He turns and locks the door. When he turns back to you, you rush in to hug him, nearly knocking him over. 

“It’s dangerous for you to be here while I’m like this.” he sighs sadly as he melts into your hug, though arms don’t quite wrap around you like they normally would. 

“Like what?” you ask brushing some hair from his forehead, and the proximity makes him suck in a breath. He takes your hand kissing your knuckles before intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“I told you, I haven’t fed in a while. I’m too…thirsty for you to be here right now honey.” 

“I know you’re not going to hurt me.” you say confidently and squeeze his hand in yours, “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too, baby. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” 

Your heart breaks at that. You know Harry would never intentionally hurt you, and knowing that he felt he had to lock himself away to keep you safe broke you, just a little. “How long has it been?” you ask and he looks away from you, and your heart sinks, “You haven’t gone this whole time without anything have you?” you ask in a voice laced with worry. “Harry.” 

“I haven't had anything since I left your apartment Friday.” he confesses, “I was supposed to pick up more on Saturday, but my guy at the hospital said they were getting suspicious, and I needed to wait until after the blood drive this weekend, to pick up more.” 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

“That’s why I didn’t call you.”  He hated to admit it, and he hated discussing  his diet and hunger with you.  But he promised you honesty after he told you his secret and he meant it. But seeing the worry in your eyes now, has made him realize maybe he’s done a shitty job at keeping that promise. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I was just trying to keep you safe. Keep my distance.” 

“I understand.” you sigh, “I just wish you would have told me instead of ghosting me. And I wish you would trust me with things like this H.” 

“I do trust you.” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly, and then you get an idea. 

“Come here.” you say dragging him to his couch. You sit him down and sit in his lap. He tenses, hands on your hips to lift you off but you don’t budge. 

“Doll.” he warns, stiffly, despite wanting nothing more than to hold you close, “I think it’s best if you -” 

“I want you to drink.” 

Harry’s eyes snap to you, brows knitted together. “What?” 

“Drink.” you say, shifting closer, and pulling the hood of your hoodie to the side exposing more of your neck. 

Harry shakes his head, untangling your arms from around his neck, “No, Baby Doll. I’ll be okay. I can get some blood tomorrow and I’ll be good as new okay? Don’t worry about me.” 

“Too late.” you say, kissing his cheek. Harry turns away, sucking in a breath, but you move closer. “Drink.” 

“We’ve talked about this.” 

“And we agreed that you’d only bite me if I asked and feed from me in case of emergency. What would you call this?” 

“Not an emergency.” He insists, looking at you. 

“You’ve taught me enough about vampires by now for me to know that’s not true.” 

Harry sighs, because he hates when you’re right. He has taught you quite a lot, always answering your endless questions, even asking his friends for answers to some of the questions that he wasn’t sure about. And one of the first things you’d asked him was his diet. You’d noticed in your time leading up to his confession that he almost never ate. He’d cook for the two of you, make sure you were always fed but would only have a few bites himself. It’s when you asked about it that he told you that younger vampires like himself need more blood than a vampire older than him. And that the older he got the longer he could go without feeding and the more he’d be able to stomach solids, but for now, he pretty much lived on blood. And going as long as Harry had  admitted he’d gone without blood was bordering on dangerous. 

“Besides” you say, “You don’t let me miss a meal without a lecture. What makes you think I’m going to let you go for a week?” Harry smirks at you, and he shakes his head fondly. He leans forward and presses a much needed kiss to your lips. 

“What have I done to deserve you?” He looks at you in that love sick way that makes your stomach flip and your cheeks warm up.

“That’s very sweet.” you smile playfully rolling your eyes, “Now drink.” 

Harry chuckles, “You’re sure?”  

“Yes, please.” you say, he shifts you to come closer to him and places a soft kiss to your collarbone first, before moving up your neck to a safe spot. 

“Alright.” He sighs giving in. He’ll beat himself up for being too weak to resist later. Now, he was thirsty and physically weak and desperately needed to feed.  “Stop me if you start to feel light headed, okay?” 

“I will. I trust you.” you smile, “I just want you fed.” 

“Thank you.” He says placing a sweet kiss to your lips. 

Harry's bitten you before. Only briefly and only after you asked him too, curious about what it would be like, and wanting him to eat after you’d had your own dinner. And sometimes he’ll allow himself to indulge when the two of you are fooling around. But never has he bitten you while he was actually thirsty and he was a little worried. But knowing you had so much confidence in him, and his ability to control himself made him more comfortable. 

He places a kiss to your collarbone, and a few up your neck before finding a spot safe enough. He counts down from three, to prepare you for the initial sting of the bite before sinking his fangs into your neck. You move a hand to the back of Harry’s head, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, as he drank. 

He drinks slowly, hands on your hips, thumb stroking the skin under your hoodie to distract you from the slight discomfort of the bite. He drinks for a few short moments before he raises his head up. “You doing okay?” he says into your neck. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Just a little bit more okay?” 

You nod your head and encourage him to keep drinking and he does. With every second that passes you can feel yourself getting to that warm and fuzzy place that you tend to get to when Harry bites you.  He’d explained it was a high of sorts, brought on by a mix of the blood loss, and the ‘venom’ from his bite. Scientifically speaking, the purpose was to incapacitate a vampires ‘prey’, make them more pliant for feeding, and more susceptible to compulsion so they’d  forget the encounter after the fact. In cases like yours though, where said ‘prey’ gave in voluntarily, it would cause a short high and a brief spell of giggles. In cases where you and Harry had already been fooling around, well you’d get a little…needy. 

He drinks for a few more seconds, and then pulls away, full and satisfied. He licks the little bit of blood that's dribbled down his lip, wiping his mouth with the back of his own hoodie sleeve. With his fangs still out, he picks his index finger, drawing a drop of blood and rubs it across your bite marks watching them heal instantly. He kisses your neck one more time “There we go. Good as new.” He smiles, planting a kiss on your lips. He looks up at you and sees you looking down at him with dazed eyes, and chuckles. “Are you doing okay Doll?” 

“Yeah. I’m just - ya know.” you smile, waving your hand. “Are you sure you’re good? Full?” 

Harry nods his head, leaning into your hand that you’ve placed on his cheek. He turns, placing a peck to your palm. “I’m much better now.” He smiles sadly. Just that little bit of your blood, and he looks a million times better. His eyes, the bright emerald you were used to, his skin and hair far less dull than it was when you’d first arrived. He still had some bags under his eyes, but he looked leaps and bounds more healthy. 

“Thank you. For letting me…feed.”  

“You don’t have to thank me. Just glad you're okay. Please call me next time, if you end up in this situation again.” 

“I will,” he says holding up his pinky, “Promise.” you wrap your pinky around his, and he leans forward kissing his fists, and you do the same. 

Maybe it was the bite, or maybe it the way that Harry was looking at you, regardless you were pretty sure you were falling in love with a vampire. 

✨masterlist✨ ∣ ✨yap & request box✨

[angelicpoison12]

Can you do angel dust x shy autistic male reader, the reader loves the texture of angels fluff.

absolutely!! I love autistic!reader fics sm thank you for requesting this! 🫶 i added the reader being nonverbal because as a selectively mute autistic, i feel like there aren't enough fics w/ being selectively mute!

wordcount: 741

tags: fluffy cuddles, tooth rotting fluff, nonverbal!reader, reader can't find their comfort object and has a shutdown, Angel being Angel, (platonic) use of petnames, Angel lets you touch his fluff teehee, SFW

— ✃☕︎︎ — 

you enjoyed touching things. specifically, soft things. you always had a soft comfort object nearby to keep you calm; whether it was a small piece of soft cloth, a stuffed animal, the sleeve of a soft sweater, a blanket-whatever it was, it kept you at ease. today, all went to shit because you couldn't find it. "fuck, where is it? where is it?!" you nearly shrieked. you felt like the entire day was ruined, and it hadn't even gotten started yet.

you knew you needed to calm down. but how?

your mind finally hit 'fuck it', and you decided to just go on with the day without your comfort object. you'd be okay, right?

sitting in the hotel's lounge, you muttered in annoyance under your breath, not really wanting to deal with anyone right now. of course, we can't get everything we want, right?

"hey babycakes," you heard. you slowly lifted your head and turned your chin away from the voice, knowing from the Brooklyn-Italian accent that it was Hell's hottest porn star in the Pride Ring. Angel Dust. he sat next to you, kicking his heels up onto the table in front of the couch. "whats the matter with you? somebody gotcha blue?" Angel asked. your cheeks puffed with air, and you huffed, squirming to the furthest corner of the couch. "look, when somebody asks ya something, it's kinda rude to not respond, dollface." Angel said, his eyes softer now, not having the usual glimmer of mischief that they usually held.

you opened your lips to say something, but closed them, not wanting to act out. Angel could tell you weren't feeling the best. he didn't know you too awfully well, but he knew you weren't one to shut down without something going wrong. "lemme guess. uh.. somethin' bad happened?" you nodded. "hm. well what happened? was someone mean to ya?" you shook your head. "damn, okay. not makin' this too easy for me, toots. uh.. lost something?" you perked up and nodded vigorously.

Angel scooted closer, and you didn't push him away. well, not like you could anyways, you were basically smooshed into the corner of the sofa. "what'd ya lose, toots?" he asked. all you could do was rub your thumbs against your forefingers, as if you were feeling the pads, seeking sensory attention. Angel immediately noticed this and it was as if a lightbulb had clicked in his head. "ohhh.. i get it. ya always got somethin' with ya. you can't find it, dollface?" you nodded, your lips pursed in a sad pout, eyes wide and soft like glass. "aw, doll.. it's okay. can-uh, can i touch ya?" your eyes widened, and you quirked a brow. Angel was quick to throw his hands up and say, "no-no, no, not like that, babycakes-just uh.. i just wanna hold ya. maybe give you some comfort, y'know?" hesitantly, you nodded. you squeaked when Angel effortlessly pulled you into his lap, holding you with his four arms around you.

you noticed his fluffy chest, his soft jawline, pearly white teeth with his golden fang, mismatching irises, extra eyes, and spotted hair. you noticed your hand involuntarily reaching for his chest. you were quick to cower back. you knew Angel felt vulnerable enough having you in his lap, and you didn't want to push his comfort too far. Angel gently brushed some hair from your eyes as he said, "it's okay, babycakes. go ahead, i just got done brushin' my fluff this morning, it'd be a shame to let it go to waste." he said with a chuckle, smiling as he led your hand to his fluff. you swallowed, and tenderly squeezed his left fluff breast. you blushed, your cheeks a soft rosy blush. you pressed your ear to his chest, listening to the gentle, comforting melody of his heartbeat.

"aw, yer adorable, toots." Angel nearly cooed. his upper set of arms held you closer, pushing your head deeper into his fluff. you gazed up at him. from the nose down, your head was buried into the sweet-smelling white fur. you nestled closer to him, and you swore you heard his heartbeat quicken when you reciprocated, your arms holding his waist. "feelin' better, babycakes?" Angel asked, his voice soft. you nodded into his chest, nuzzling him like a sweet cat would. "good."

[tenderleavesbob]

Epona's mane was spotless. It gleamed in the light of the torches. She dozed under Twilight's hands. At first she had snorted and nuzzled his hair and chest, but that was a while ago. Even the voices from the surrounding campfires had grown quiet. Warriors's troops had set up watch, so none of the chain was needed that night. Twilight knew a cot waited for him in the tent the soldiers had hastily erected for Warriors.

For their captain. It was funny, Twilight mused, still brushing Epona's mane. Twilight knew Warriors as a captain. He was certainly good at taking charge when it came right down to it. Could bark orders like a champ, made Twilight's soldiers look like whining, cringing bokoblins. Everyone knew that Warriors was a war captain, even if Wars didn't like to talk about the war none. Twilight never blamed him for that. None of them like to talk about their adventures much.

Twilight and Legend had teased Warriors a bit for not having an adventure of his own. Not a proper one. Light teasing. They didn't mean any harm. Twilight hadn't thought about it too much, just like he hadn't thought much about Warriors being a captain. It was just part of their Warriors. That was all.

"I thought I would find you here," Warriors said softly, walking behind Twilight. "No braids?"

Twilight hummed and stroked Epona's neck. "When I'm done brushin' her."

Warriors walked beside him and rested a hand on Epona's back. His head moved gently up and down with her sleeping breaths. "I think she's plenty brushed now, goat herder."

Goat herder. Twilight was goat herder, Warriors was captain. Seemed simple enough yesterday.

"A little more," Twilight said.

Warriors called orders to them yesterday, but nothing like Twilight saw today. Warriors was the one with the most team experience. They all knew that. The one with the most leadership experience. He was good at coordinating a bunch of loner heroes, and Twilight had always respected that. After today, he didn't think he respected that enough.

"You okay?" Warriors asked quietly. So quiet. It was after midnight, Twilight knew. There were still some soldiers up around the different campfires, keeping watch and talking, but almost everyone was sleeping now. Resting for tomorrow's battles.

"Yeah," Twilight said. "You should go to sleep. You had a long day."

Warriors had thrown himself right into the mess of it, shouting orders and taking over. Twilight had seen Warriors fight plenty a time, but he hadn't seen him fight like that before.

For the first time, Twilight thought he had seen Warriors in his true element, and he didn't like it much.

"I think I'll stay up with you," Warriors said mildly. "If that's okay."

Twilight hummed again. Epona snorted in her sleep. "You can brush her mane. I bet you can braid it all pretty."

"I can do that," Warriors agreed.

Twilight preferred this Warriors. His brother. He didn't know how to say it, though, so he just bumped Warriors's shoulder with his own. Warriors was clever. Twilight hoped he understood.

Warriors smiled at him. Together, they brushed Epona's hair. Around them, the camp grew quieter and quieter, and the blood and smoke-scented night dragged on.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumpuary Day 1-2

Prompt: Snow

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; blood; head injury

gif by r66dus

“Why are we patrolling when we can’t see ten feet in front of our faces?” You were yelling into the wind, only satisfied that the archer may have heard you when he turned halfway. 

“Wha’?” Daryl called from beneath the bandana that shielded the lower part of his face from the biting cold. 

Taking a deep breath, you moved your scarf aside and shouted louder. “Why are we—” The slightest crinkle next to one eye gave away the smirk hidden beneath the black and white patterns. “I hate you!” You could barely hear him chuckle. 

“No, ya don’!” At least he was kind enough to wait for you to trudge through the steadily deepening snow to reach his side. “Ya should head on back if it’s that hard on ya!”

“Please. Like I’d leave you out here alone!” You sputtered indignantly when he ruffled your toboggan hat. The man knew exactly how to rile you up, and he did it as often as possible. Though you acted perturbed, you actually enjoyed the times you could see a smirk or a small smile. 

Daryl smiled a lot more these days. It was one of your favorite things in the chaotic, dystopian world. After Rick and with the Whisperers still lurking, you wouldn’t blame him for wearing a permanent scowl like the old days. 

“We can cross over here n’ circle back.” He pulled down his bandana and motioned toward the frozen river. “Froze solid. Won’ fall through but be careful anyway.” He started across, sensing you weren’t following. “Wha’re ya doin’?”

“Keep going. I’ll catch right up.”

“Y/N, wha’re ya doin’?” He repeated more sternly. 

“I need to pee, Daryl!” You frowned when he smiled and there was the slightest bounce to his shoulders. “It’s not funny.”

“Yer gon’ freeze yer ass off.” The ‘literally’ hung in the air, but you knew he was thinking it. “G’on then. Ain’t nothin’ I’ve not seen b’fore.” 

You pouted. “You can’t watch me pee!”

“Ya do it ev’ry mornin’ while ‘m brushin’ my teeth.”

“Yeah, but this is more…open!” When he titled his head with a look that clearly stated you can’t be serious, you huffed. “Shut up, that’s different too!” Your cheeks were suddenly warm, even against the frigid gusts. Daryl had been up close and personal with your lady bits more than you could even begin to recollect. 

With a grin, he held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll keep goin’. Slow. Wanna be close jus’ in case.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, daddy.” When a dark brow arched, you feigned displeasure and grabbed a gloveful of snow and tossed it at him. “Go away, pervert.” He was still grinning as he turned to put a little distance between the two of you. Pants and underwear were down to your knees quickly, the urge nearly unbearable by the time you’d convinced him to keep moving. You couldn’t stop the relieved groan even if you’d tried. 

You had expected to hear him laugh but thankfully, the wind was just too loud. With the wonderful lack of toilet paper, drip-drying was the only option left to you, though you were certain your vagina would be full of ice by the time that happened. After several moments, you pulled up your pants and secured the button and zipper, then your belt, curling your lip at the yellow patch of snow. The apocalypse was gross. 

“Done!” You announced cheerfully loud. 

“Wash yer hands?” He chuckled when you were close enough. 

“Oh, shut up and walk.” A handful of poncho enabled you to spin him around and shove him forward. You were smiling to yourself when the hairs stood on the back of your neck. It wasn’t from the cold. “Daryl.” It felt like someone was watching you. Your eyes met his. He had felt it too; was already pulling his crossbow from his back. 

“C’mon.” He motioned you closer while you each surveyed your surroundings. The Whisperers had been absent since the cold had set in, but it was possible they had returned. Over the scream of the harsh wind, neither of you heard the low growls coming from below. 

Daryl yelped when a hand caught his ankle and gave a sharp tug. You could only watch as his boot slipped and he tumbled, the back of his head bouncing off of the ice with a sickening crack and splatter of red across white. His weapon slid to a stop several feet away.  

“Daryl!”

The walker was trapped in the snow, only one arm and half its face exposed. Enough for your blade to find its mark. Dark, congealed blood covered your knife as it fell next to the archer, your hands on him immediately. He remained unresponsive to each shriek of his name, but you had to find some measure of calm to assess his condition. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

The frosty vapor that formed in front of his lips showed him to be breathing. You quickly removed a glove to press your fingertips to his neck, finding a thready pulse rather quickly. With the gentlest touch you could manage, you slowly, carefully lifted his head, nauseated at how boneless he appeared. You were terrified of moving him. Head and neck injuries were never a thing to play with, even in the old world when hospitals were abundant and functional. 

Holding his head only slightly off the ice, you whimpered at the moderate amount of blood that had covered the pale surface. Head injuries bleed a lot. He’s fine. He is fine. Your teeth were nearly puncturing your bottom lip while you probed the back of his head blindly. Through his wavy hair, it was difficult to find the injury straight away. Once your quickly numbing fingertips pressed onto a swollen split in the skin, you were forced to turn his head for a better look. 

The laceration was small but deep, most likely near to the skull. You couldn’t see bone, but the snow and blood made that nearly impossible. For now, you needed to take care of the blood oozing from the wound and over your fingers. The cold would help with the active bleeding but you unwound your scarf and placed it behind his head. Why the fuck didn’t you bring medical supplies and food on patrols when shit like this was a distinct possibility? 

“Daryl.” You said loud enough to be heard over the wind but with a calm that betrayed the panic stirring within your chest. You had to move. The two of you freeze if you remained. There was also the possibility of walkers or Whisperers, and you were sitting ducks. “Come on, baby, wake up.” The pet name flowed out easily, reserved for intimacy or comfort. 

You were met with unrewarding silence for a moment that seemed to last forever but finally, your archer groaned and grimaced. He made to turn his head before even opening his eyes, gagging almost immediately from the pain that surely accompanied the movement. 

“Stay still for a minute. You’ve got a concussion for sure but I’m worried about more.” You soothed, rubbing his chest in lieu of touching his face or hair. “Getting back is gonna suck. Take some time to get yourself ready.”

“Survived worse.” He slurred. You didn’t need to see his pupils to diagnose the head injury. He had hit so hard that you wondered how the ice didn’t splinter from the impact. You kept a sharp eye on the surroundings to buy him some time. Both of you knew what the journey back to the gates would entail, short as it would be. “Le’s get outta ‘ere.” Daryl shifted toward his side to get an arm beneath him. He had yet to open his eyes, likely knowing the tilt of the world that awaited. 

“Slowly.” You kept your hands on his arms, his shoulders, prepared to assist and comfort. “That’s it.” The archer barely made it to a sitting position before retching, cognizant enough to turn the opposite direction from you. Your hand rubbed circles over his back, a grounding comfort that was also a display of gratitude for not vomiting on you. “I’m sorry.” Your heart ached with a need to draw the pain from him and take it upon yourself. The whimper that followed the sick was the only indicator of the agony the action had likely caused. 

“M’ready.” He panted. 

“Okay, let me grab your crossbow.” You scooped up your scarf, stuffed it into your coat pocket, took carefully swift steps to collect the weapon and strapped it to your back as you returned to his side. “Okay, grab my shoulders and pull yourself up slowly. I’ll help balance you but you go at your pace, okay?” There was the slightest dip of his head in an almost nod before he thought better of it and mumbled an ‘okay’ that you couldn’t even hear. 

You planted your feet, watching the area for any signs of threats while Daryl used you to begin levering himself upward. At the first pull of his weight, you grunted and he let go. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, baby. I promise you won’t hurt me.” You smiled, hand on the crook of his shoulder with your thumb stroking his collar bone. He didn’t balk at the endearment, not even the usual scoff. 

“Okay.”

The process began again. Daryl was stout, but the challenges of surviving had helped you build strength. While it wasn’t easy, it was not impossible for you to bear the added weight. On his feet, the archer swayed and granted you the first glimpse of his unfocused blue eyes. One pupil was noticeably larger; worrisome but you couldn’t do anything about it. He needed medical attention that the infirmary could hopefully provide. 

You were quick to grab his elbows and steady him when he stumbled backwards. “You’re vertical. I’d say we’re making progress.” One of his arms pulled across your shoulders, the two of you embarked on what promised to be a difficult trek home. 

You’d only been walking for about five minutes, when Daryl lurched forward and vomited, painful heaves that made keeping him upright nearly unattainable. He groaned, clenching his eyes shut and spitting onto the dirt. 

“You can do this. Just hold onto me.” You frowned at the hardened blood on the back of his neck, frozen into flecks by the bitter cold. 

The process repeated several times and by the time the gates were a looming shadow beyond the whiteout, Daryl was putting nearly all of his weight on you, toes of his boots dragging with each slow step. 

“Almost there.” Your voice was no longer reaching him. As the gates opened, the archer went down and dragged you along with him. You began shouting for help, silhouettes of your friends growing more perceivable with each hurried step. “Help! Daryl needs help!” 

Your worry for him was overriding the urgent voices surrounding you, blurred hands coming into view to settle on your archer. You had no choice but to step back and allow them to take him, following in a daze while more hands guided you along. The panic you had stored away was finally able to break free. 

You cried. 

Stitching the wound had been a brutal excursion. Daryl needed to be held down as the near frozen skin, hypersensitive in the heated infirmary, was forced together. Aaron and Gabriel assisted, their guilt for the required intervention was evident in both faces. You sat in front of him, whispering encouragement and reminding him how much you loved him. The archer vomited from the pain alone before unconsciousness mercifully claimed him. 

Without the means to confirm, Daryl was released on strict bedrest in case of a skull fracture. He could sleep as long as you were near to monitor for any changes in his vitals. He would become confused, nauseous, and irritable. You were there to hold back his hair, mindful of the stitched wound. You needed to remind him of where he was and what had happened. At one point, he had even asked for your help in finding Merle, who had died years before. 

After a while, he settled and dozed, Dog on the bed with his furry head on the hunter’s thigh. You finished your list of chores quickly, placing a steaming bowl of soup and a cup of tea on the nightstand by your side of the bed. Daryl was awake the moment you had stepped inside the room. Damn hunter’s senses. 

“Hey, Humpty Dumpty. How are you feeling?” Settling yourself with your knees resting against Dog’s side, your fingers gently brushing back Daryl’s hair. The archer hummed, and caught himself seconds before he would have moved his head to scowl at you for the nickname. 

“Had worse.” He croaked. 

“Doesn’t mean this can’t hurt like a bitch.” You countered immediately. The archer hummed once more. It probably hurt less than speaking. You had helped him clean up just after his release to recover at home. If he was stuck in bed, you were going to make damn sure he was comfortable. The flannel pants and Ozzy t-shirt at least made him smile. “Do you need anything?” You adjusted the blanket Carol had left once during a visit. 

“Jus’ you.”

You smiled, your face and neck flushing. You pressed your lips to his temple, the brush of your mouth against his skin but a mere whisper. 

“You’ve had me for a while, Mr. Dixon. That’s not gonna change now.”

[dalilacherie]

hiiiiii idk if ur still taking requests but if u are could u pls write a dally x male reader where the readers a curtis and dally and reader have been together for like a while but then somehow darry catches them together and so now they are dealing with the fallout of all that (i am so so sorry if that made no sense 😭)

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭

[𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: So uh... I'm alive!! 🥳 I have nothing to say for myself except that I'm lazy💀 anyways enjoy this story.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: idk- more than 1,000

I’m sittin’ on the old couch in the Curtis livin’ room, feet up on the coffee table, cigarette danglin’ between my lips. It’s quiet. The kind of quiet you don’t get too often around here. The boys are all out. Two-Bit, Johnny, and Pony are at the movies, and Darry, Steve, and Soda are at work. That just leaves me and Y/N.

"Don’t ya get bored when it’s this quiet?" Y/N asked, lookin' at me with those eyes of his that I never could resist. He always had a way of seein' right through me, even when I was tryin' to act tough.

I shrugged. "Nah, quiet’s good sometimes. Can think better without all that noise. Don’t you like it?"

He smiled, that small, easy smile he had that could make me feel like maybe not everything in this world was as screwed up as it seemed. "Yeah, I like it. It’s nice just bein' with you."

I didn’t say nothin' to that. I wasn’t good at the mushy stuff, never was. I’d rather just show him what I felt, not say it. So I reached over and ruffled his hair, messin' it up like I knew he hated, just to see him annoyed. He swatted my hand away, but he was grinnin'.

"Quit it, Dal. I just fixed it."

"Too bad," I said, leanin' back into the couch, stretchin' my legs out. "You look better with it all messed up, anyway.”

I glance over at him, sittin’ close by, almost leanin’ into me. He’s been my guy for a while now, not that we make a big show of it or nothin’. He’s just always been there, and I guess I’ve always been here too, though I ain’t one to stick around for much.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” I ask, flickin’ some ash into the ashtray. It’s one of those moments where I ain’t thinkin’ too much about what’s out there—what kinda trouble I could be gettin’ into. ‘Cause right now, I got what I need right here.

He shrugs a bit, like he does when he ain’t sure what to say. “Nothin’ much. Just… you.”

I smirk at that, pullin’ the cigarette from my mouth and blowin’ the smoke up toward the ceilin’. “Yeah? What ‘bout me?”

He turns his head, lookin’ me dead in the eyes. He’s always had this way of lookin’ at me, like he’s seein’ somethin’ more than just a no-good hood. Maybe he is, I dunno.

“I dunno,” he says, leanin’ back a little. “Just… how you’re always here, even when you say you’re not gonna be.”

“Guess I ain’t as bad as I like to think I am,” I mutter, leanin’ back against the cushions. I’m still gettin’ used to this whole thing, bein’ with someone who actually gives a damn. Most folks don’t. And hell, I’m used to it. Grew up that way, always lookin’ out for myself, ‘cause who else was gonna do it? But Y/N, he’s different. He makes me feel like maybe there’s somethin’ more out there than just fights and booze and dodgin’ the fuzz.

He shifts a bit closer, till his shoulder’s brushin’ against mine. He’s warm, real warm, and it’s kinda nice just sittin’ here with him, not havin’ to say nothin’ or do nothin’ to prove myself.

“Ya know,” I say, my voice a little quieter, “I ain’t used to this. Just sittin’ around, not doin’ nothin’. It’s kinda nice, though.”

He smiles, that soft, easy smile he’s always got, and it makes me feel somethin’ weird, like maybe I’m worth somethin’ more than just a cheap thrill or a quick fight. “Yeah, it is,” he agrees, settlin’ in closer, his head restin’ on my shoulder. “We don’t get much time like this.”

“Nah, we don’t,” I say, takin’ another drag off my cigarette before snuffin’ it out in the ashtray. I’m quiet for a minute, just listenin’ to him breathin’, the way his chest rises and falls against mine.

“I like bein’ with you, Y/N,” I say, the words comin’ out rougher than I meant ‘em to. I ain’t good at sayin’ stuff like this, but he deserves to hear it.

He looks up at me, those eyes of his all soft and understandin’. “I like bein’ with you too, Dal,” he says, reachin’ up to brush a hand through my hair, somethin’ he does when he thinks I’m not payin’ attention. But I always notice, even if I don’t say nothin’. “Payback” as he calls it.

“Yeah?” I say, leanin’ into his touch, feelin’ more relaxed than I have in a long time. “Glad to hear it, ‘cause I don’t plan on goin’ nowhere.”

He chuckles a bit, the sound low and warm, and it makes me feel somethin’ in my chest, somethin’ I don’t feel too often. “I didn’t think you would,” he says, settlin’ against me.

We sit there like that for a while, just enjoyin’ the quiet, enjoyin’ each other. And for once, I ain’t thinkin’ about what’s comin’ next, or what kinda trouble’s waitin’ for me out there. All I care about is right here, right now, with Y/N.

After a while, I reach over and grab the remote, flickin’ on the TV. There ain’t nothin’ good on, but I don’t care. It’s just background noise, somethin’ to fill the space while we sit here together. He shifts a bit, gettin’ more comfortable, and I pull him in closer, holdin’ him tight against me.

“Dal?” he mumbles after a while, his voice real soft, almost like he’s afraid to say what’s on his mind.

“Hm?” I reply, lookin’ down at him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, his eyes meetin’ mine. “I know you got other places you could be, but… I’m glad you’re here with me.”

"You think they’ll be back soon?" Y/N asked.

I shrugged again, not really carin'. "Probably not for a while. They’re prob'ly goofin' off somewhere."

He nodded, lookin' thoughtful. Then he looked to me, somethin' serious in his eyes. "You know, Dal, you don’t always have to act so tough."

I stiffened. "What’re you talkin' about? I ain’t actin'. I am tough."

He gave me that look again, the one that said he wasn’t buyin' my bull. "I know you are. But you don’t have to be all the time, not with me."

I didn’t know what to say to that. He was right, and I hated that he was right, but I didn’t know how to be any other way. The streets didn’t teach you how to be soft, didn’t teach you how to let your guard down. But here I was, doin' just that with him, and it might've scared me more than any fight ever did.

Instead of sayin' anything, I just pulled him closer, wrappin' my arm around his shoulders. He rested his head on my chest, and I could feel his breath against my neck. It was real nice, feelin' like we didn’t have to say nothin' to understand each other. We just fit, like two pieces of a puzzle that made sense when they were together.

"Dally?" he murmured after a while.

"Yeah?" I asked, my voice a little rougher than I meant it to be.

"You ever think about what it’d be like if we didn’t have to hide this? If everyone knew and didn’t care?"

I tensed up at that, the thought of it makin' me uneasy. "Don’t see much point in thinkin' 'bout it. Ain’t never gonna happen, Y/N. People don’t get us, don’t get me. They wouldn’t understand."

He was quiet for a bit, then he sighed. "I know. I just wish…"

I tightened my grip on him, hating how small his voice sounded. "Don’t worry 'bout it, alright? We’re good, just like this. Don’t need anyone else to get it long as we do."

He nodded against my chest, and I could feel him relaxin' again. We stayed like that for a long time, neither of us sayin' much, just enjoyin' bein' together without havin' to worry 'bout what anyone else thought.

I was startin’ to think we might actually get a whole night to ourselves. That was somethin’ that didn’t happen often, so I was gonna soak it up while I could. Y/N was leanin’ against me, his head on my chest, his breathin’ nice and steady. I had my arm wrapped around him, holdin’ him close, and I felt like maybe, just maybe, things were alright.

Then, the door creaked open.

I heard it before I saw him. The heavy footsteps, the way the air seemed to shift when he was around. I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

Darry Curtis.

He walked in like he owned the place, which I guess he did in a way, since it was his house and all. But right now, I wasn’t in the mood for him.

I glanced up, seein’ that look on his face. That one that said he wasn’t too pleased with what he was seein’. His brows were drawn together, his mouth set in a hard line, and his eyes? They were locked right on me.

“What the hell’s goin’ on here?” Darry asked, his voice low and controlled, but I could hear the edge to it. The kind that meant he was tryin’ real hard not to blow up.

“Nothin’,” I said, keepin’ my voice as casual as I could. I wasn’t gonna let him know he was gettin’ to me. “Just hangin’ out.”

“Doesn’t look like nothin’ to me,” he said, his eyes shiftin’ to Y/N, who was still leanin’ against me. I could feel Y/N tense up, probably knowin’ this was about to get ugly.

Darry crossed his arms over his chest, starin’ us down. “Y/N, mind explainin’ why you’re all over him like that?”

Y/N sat up a little, his face goin’ red. “We were just—”

“I know what you were doin’,” Darry cut him off, his voice sharper now. “And I don’t like it.”

I could feel my temper startin’ to rise. I wasn’t about to let Darry talk to him like that, not when he wasn’t doin’ nothin’ wrong. “Back off, Darry,” I said, my voice low. “Ain’t your business.”

Darry’s eyes snapped to mine, and for a second, I thought he might actually take a swing at me. He looked like he wanted to, at least. “It is my business,” he shot back, takin’ a step closer. “Y/N’s my kid brother. I ain’t lettin’ you screw him up like you screw up everything else.”

That stung more than I wanted to admit. I knew what folks thought of me. Hell, I didn’t care most of the time. But hearin’ it from Darry, with Y/N right there? That was a different story.

Y/N jumped to my defense before I could even say anythin’. “Darry, stop! You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“The hell I don’t!” Darry snapped, his eyes still locked on me. “I know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. Dallas Winston ain’t no good, Y/N. He’s a player, and he don’t give a damn ‘bout nothin’ but himself.”

“That ain’t true,” Y/N said, his voice firm, standin’ his ground. “Dally cares about me.”

Darry looked at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearin’. “He might say he does now, but what happens when he gets bored? When he moves on to the next thing that catches his eye? You’re gonna be the one left pickin’ up the pieces.”

That was it. I couldn’t just sit there and let Darry tear me down like that, not in front of Y/N. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” I said, my voice steady, but there was a hard edge to it now. “I’m with him ‘cause I wanna be. Ain’t nobody gonna change that.”

Darry didn’t look convinced. “Yeah? We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Before I could say anythin’ else, Darry walked right over and plopped himself down between us on the couch, forcin’ me to scoot over. I could feel the heat risin’ in my face, my hands clenchin’ into fists. He knew what he was doin’. He was tryin’ to push me out, make it clear that Y/N was off-limits.

Y/N looked like he didn’t know what to do, caught in the middle of all this. He glanced over at me, his eyes filled with worry, but I gave him a small nod, tryin’ to let him know it was alright. But it wasn’t alright. Not by a long shot.

I didn’t like not bein’ able to touch him, not after we’d just been sittin’ so close, all comfortable and quiet. And now Darry was actin’ like he had to play the damn protector, like Y/N was some kid who couldn’t make his own choices.

“So, what’re we watchin’?” Darry asked, like nothin’ had just gone down. He reached for the remote, flickin’ through the channels.

Y/N was quiet, too quiet, and I could see how much this was botherin’ him. But what was I supposed to do? Darry wasn’t gonna listen to me, no matter what I said. And I didn’t wanna make things worse for Y/N, not when he was already caught in the middle of this mess.

But I wasn’t about to back down, either. I wasn’t gonna let Darry think he could just walk all over me, or over what Y/N and I had. So, I leaned back, crossin’ my arms over my chest, and glared at the TV. I wasn’t gonna give Darry the satisfaction of seein’ me lose my cool. But I wasn’t happy, and I knew Y/N could feel it too.

For a while, we just sat there in awkward silence, the TV flashin’ random shows that none of us were really watchin’. Every now and then, Darry would glance over at me, like he was checkin’ to see if I was gonna do somethin’. But I just sat there, my jaw clenched, tryin’ to keep it together.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up, shovin’ my hands in my pockets, and looked down at Darry. “I’m gonna head out,” I said, my voice tight. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

Darry just looked at me, not sayin’ anythin’. But there was a challenge in his eyes, like he was waitin’ to see what I’d do next. But I wasn’t gonna give him the satisfaction of seein’ me snap. I wasn’t gonna let him win.

I glanced over at Y/N, who looked up at me with those eyes that always seemed to know what I was thinkin’. I gave him a small nod, lettin’ him know it was alright, even if it didn’t feel that way.

[saltsicklover]

Title: The Weather

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,160

Rating: PG13 - FLUFF

Warnings: Swearing

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

It took James Barnes three months to speak more than a 'hello' and an appointment time to the beautiful woman that sits behind the front desk in Dr. Raynor's stuffy office. She is the opposite of Dr. Raynor, her edges are still soft, her soul not bared to the world- covered in blood and devoid of sacrifice and suffering. 

At first, James found her intriguing. The way she sat, stick straight, attention always on her work. Her hair was never quite perfect, a sweet halo of frizz adorning her head, complimenting the way her eyes seemed to always crinkle at the corners whenever she would smile at him.  She would always smile at him while keeping her hands busy with paperwork, tucking loose pages into files- paperclips, pens, and highlighters strewn around her desk. 

Every day he talked himself up in the mirror and then again on the train, saying that today would be the day he would speak to her, finally catch her name, maybe even give her a real reason to smile- something more than just being customer service friendly. She's the one thing that seems to radiate positivity and light in the near desolate office he visits once a week. 

Today it is raining, somewhere between pouring and deluge and Bucky trails a small creek into the office with him. The water streaks down his face, hair sticking to his forehead. Droplets race down his leather clad body, pelting the tile floor. 

"Good morning, Mr. Barnes," The dame behind the desk speaks, her voice like fresh honey and it washes a tidal wave of warmth over Bucky. He shivers, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. Bucky is clammy and cold to the touch but it doesn't seem to bother him. The wet droplets that roll off his body don't either. Finally, the women looks up at Bucky, a bit of shock rolls over he features before before it's replaced with a chuckle and her signature smile, eyes crinkling but still shinning under the florescent lights. "Looks like that storm's gotten pretty bad since I got in this morning," She comments, standing up from her chair to greet him, "Don't you own an umbrella?" 

Bucky can't help the laugh that escapes his lips, deep and full like the sweetest expresso she's ever tasted. Her body buzzes from the sound, joy vibrating under her skin at the change in his usually stony demeanor. The furrow of his brow is lessoned now, a smile threatening to pull at his lips, but his expression remains neutral. Yet, somehow, it's like a smile had reached his eyes with the way he look at her.

"Oh, you know, didn't think I'd need one but the weather really took a turn and now I'm swimming in my boots," He almost laughs, almost, the squelching sound of his boots and the harmony of the squeaking floor with each step he takes towards the desk makes him feel the most on display he has in years. The full tooth smile she gives him makes it worth it. "I have an 11:30 with Dr. Raynor."

"I've already got you all checked in, but," his confidence faulters a bit, as does her smile, "Dr. Raynor was called into an emergency meeting this morning, about an hour ago, and she still isn't back yet. She called to let me know that she is on her way, and she wanted me to ask you to wait. So, if you could take a seat and hang out, that would be lovely," She rambles a bit, spinning one of the many rings she wears on her delicate fingers. She plays with the large gem, spinning the band round and round as if she could twirl her anxiety away with each revolution of the silver band. 

 "Yeah, uhh-" Bucky stutters a bit, brushing back his bangs then attempting to flick the water off of his fingers with the shake of his wrist, "I can wait, definitely." He nods at her like he has any other choice, and she nods back, the awkwardness of the whole scenario becoming more palpable with each tick of the clock. 

She sits back down too, after a moment, tucking her skirt under her backside with a quick motion before she turns back to the paperwork in front of her. The only sounds in the room are the light piano music playing over the speakers, almost too quiet for the average person to hear, and the clicking of the keyboard as she types. Bucky can almost hear her breathing, if he strains to listen, the small breathes pushing past her lips and then back in. 

Bucky watches as she works, her tongue poking out of her mouth from between her lips as she concentrates. His heart flutters at the sight, and he thinks he might pass away right then and there when she drags her bottom lip between her teeth. 

He watches the clock too. It hangs on the plain wall behind her, and the minutes seem to tick by slower and slower with each passing glance. But time seems to stand still as he watches her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He notices the diamonds and pearls decorating her ear, a site he isn't quite used to yet but still finds intriguing. The idea that someone might purposefully stab themselves to then adorn their bodies is something he finds perplexing and she finds irresistible. 

"Hey, can I ask you somethin'?" Bucky finally breaks the silence, the clicking of her keyboard slowly dissipating. She flashes that grin of hers at him and he melts. 

"What's up, Mr. Barnes?" She stands to look him in the eye over her computer. He sits in the waiting area, off to the side of her desk. He plays with the cuffs of his coat, fingering at the zippers and tugging at the fabric. 

"I just realized, I've been coming here for a while now and it has never occurred to me to ask you your name," She laughs a bit at him, one of those small laughs that comes from the back of the throat. She gives him her name and it gently falls from her lips like it's the easiest thing in the world and he decides that it is. Bucky repeats her name back, it's liquid sugar on his tongue- he wears a shy smile now, the rest of his body useless, like he's been zipped into a body bag as his mind spins. 

The rain is turning to hail, the small bits of ice pinging off of the windows, echoing though out the office. The lights flicker, off, on, then back off, leaving them sitting in the dark. Bucky tenses, his hands tightening around the arms of his chair as his companion lets out a huff in irritation. 

"Well, so much for getting any sort of work done now," She grumbles, pushing herself away from the desk. She moves around her desk, but not carefully enough. A low smack, the sound of bone hitting wood is heard throughout the room, and so are the swear words and grumblings that leave her lips. 

"Are you okay, doll?" Bucky asks too quickly, jumping to his feet. 

"Oh yeah, I'm- I'm just great. My knee just wanted to make friends with the corner of my desk, that's all," She informs him, rubbing her sore knee with her hands. She moves to sit in front of her desk, making home on the floor, her back pressed against the wood. Bucky tries to make out her form in the dark, but he can barely see her from where he stands. He pulls his cellphone out, clicking the flashlight on to illuminate the room. He places it on the floor, nudging it with the toe of his boot so it sits between them. 

She offers him a quiet thank you, devoid of a smile. 

"Can I ask you something, now? The way I see it, it's my turn," Bucky hums in approval, "What's going on in that head of yours?" Bucky is thrown by the question and it hangs in the stale air. "Let me rephrase, because I'm not asking about the shit you come here to talk to Dr. Raynor about. What do you think about when you're not avenging or chitchatting with the good doctor?" 

Bucky's thoughts flash through his mind quickly, the nightmares and the amends he has left to make. He thinks about Steve, and he thinks about Sam. He thinks about the community Sam has built with his family and the way they take care of each other. He thinks about how he lacks all of that. The family, the community, the honor. But mostly, he thinks about her and the way her eyes crinkle and that one time her hair was braided back and the way he could see her whole face for the very first time. 

"I like the weather," He says simply, sitting himself down on the floor to meet her level. 

"The weather?" She asks him, leaning towards him curiously. 

Specks of dust flutter through the air, visible only through the glow of the flashlight. Each speck seems to dance in the tension around them, her question going unanswered for a few beats before he sighs in an attempt to relieve the strain building in his ribcage. 

"Yeah, the weather. It seems to be the only thing I really understand anymore. That, and I like the rain," He concludes with a hand tugging through the mess of hair atop his head. He can't tell her that the sun doesn't come close to shining as bright as she does, so he settles with liking the rain. It seems more than honest. She tries to hold back a giggle at his answer. The causal air of it and the simplicity of the choice he has made. She doesn't push the topic further, not truly believing that he often thinks of the weather. But she knows better than to challenge the fact. 

Maybe if they were in a different universe, or following a different timeline. One that they may be able to reach out in and dust their fingertips over if it weren't for the fabric of space time holding them firmly in place. Maybe, one universe over, just to the left of where they sit now, they are still sitting together, but not on the floor of a government sanctioned medical facility, but in a cafe. 

They sit together, knees touching underneath the small bistro table in the corner of the cramped cafe. He calls her 'sunshine', because she is. She calls him 'lover', and he hates it in the way to say that he has never loved being called something more. 

Their fingers are intertwined on the table top, not caring who sees them together. Bucky would be drinking coffee, something with actual flavor because he would actually let himself enjoy it. She still drinks black coffee because it makes her soul feel at home.  They both wear genuine smiles, talking and laughing, enjoying each other's company. Definitely somewhere between date fifteen and twenty, planning their lives side by side but not yet together. 

In the timeline on their right they are together, in their apartment. Sunny, that's what he calls her there, is painting the walls sage green. James, sits in the middle of the room attempting to build a coffee table that they purchased from IKEA earlier that week. He grumbles about missing pieces, rummaging through the little plastic baggies and Sunny just laughs at him. 

She walks over and dabs a bit of the paint on his nose; both of their faces end up covered in green by the time they are done locking lips. They lay on the floor, surrounded by half finished projects, completely head over heels in love with one another. 

She has no idea about the ring he has hidden in his sock drawer, or the way his heart beats just a little bit faster every time she goes into that drawer to steal a pair of his socks just because she claims they are more comfortable than her own. He really needs to find a new hiding spot, but he has been so caught up in the life they are creating he really hasn't bothered to think of a better place. 

There is another universe about an arms length away where they are meeting for the first time. One where Bucky is quicker to forgive himself and more gentle with his own soul, with himself. She hasn't been given a nickname here, at least not yet. They cross paths on the train- she is stepping off and Bucky steps on. Their knuckles graze over each other, both turning to whisper an apology just as the doors shut. 

They lock eyes and Bucky offers her a kind smile, one that has come easy to him for years now. She offers a small smile in return, one that is much more shy and reserved than the one she has just received. Just then, the train begins to pull away, their lives once again headed in separate directions. 

She watches as the train pulls away, eyes still on the brunet, feet planted firmly in place. Bucky starts walking towards the back of the train, eyes still fixed on the woman who holds his attention like a vice. When he finally makes it to the end of the train, he is left with nothing to do but offer her a wave and a smile. She returns it in kind. 

But here and now they sit in the darkness, a storm raging outside, leaving them trapped inside with nothing but each others company and the glow of the flashlight between them. Neither one has been brave enough to speak for a little while. They have made themselves comfortable on the floor and in the shared silence. 

Bucky can't help but think about how beautiful she is. The way that she lights up the room with nothing more than her presence. He mulls over the fact that he took so long to talk to her, and the tightness in his chest seems to linger the longer he beats himself up for it. He twiddles with his fingers, fidgeting where he sits. He is almost dry now but his boots are still soaked through, squelching when he moves. She pretends not to notice it, stifling a laugh with the heel of her hand pressed firmly against her lips. 

"I think I'm going to call you Solntse," He says absentmindedly, more to himself and maybe the room than to her directly. "Yeah, Solntse, it suits you."

"What does that mean, Mr. Barnes?" Solntse questions him, peering through the harsh beam of the flashlight. 

"It means sun. It's Russian. And please, call me Bucky, or hell, I'll even take James, but please quit calling me Mr. Barnes," He speaks candidly, rubbing over his face with his flesh hand. He pulled off his gloves a few minutes ago, the action going unnoticed. 

"Okay, Bucky. Russian sun it is," Solntse chuckles, crossing her ankles out in front of her. 

"That is, if you don't mind- I guess I should've asked first," Bucky attempts to backtrack, fumbling over his words as the embarrassment wells inside him. A blush begins to bloom over Solntse's face and neck, a raspberry hue covering her skin. 

"I don't mind, Buck, truly. Plus they say you can't pick your own nickname. It goes against the whole point of having a nickname," She chuckles, a smile spread wide across her face as the pink tint begins to fade. She doesn't know what comes over her but she crawls over to Bucky, plopping herself down in the spot next to him. Bucky can't help the way his heart quickens at he movements, the proximity of her body to his and the scent of her perfume make him dizzy. 

They sit next to each other like that for a while, the silence taking over again. It's not too long after they are plunged back into darkness, the flashlight in front of them shutting off without warning. The sudden darkness catches Solntse by surprise, causing her to jump and let out a little yip of surprise. She grabs onto Bucky, hands wrapping around his metal arm, squeezing tightly. It all happens in a split second; each party feeling a complete and sudden shift in the air around them. 

They turn to face one another, noses almost brushing. Solntse can feel the deep blush burning on her skin again, the heat taking over her senses. Bucky lets a small chuckle escape him. It sounds full and comforting, even if it is at her own expense. 

"You're safe, doll, I've got you," Bucky whispers, pulling her as close as he can in their current position. Solntse can feel the way his fingertips dip into her flesh, the feeling grounding her in the moment, to him and his closeness. She squeezes him back. 

"Thank you," She whispers, voice barely audible. A smirk slips onto Bucky's slips and it goes unnoticed by Solntse until she leans forwards and closes the gap between them. The movement is clumsy in the dark, their noses bumping together at first. 

The kiss is slow and sweet, lips mingling together as if they have a thousand times before- and they have in the universes that surround them. The way their lips move together is not new to the universes else where, and neither is the way Bucky moves to pull her into his lap, her knees finding purchase on either side of his thighs. He tangles his hands in her hair the same way he always has and always will. She pulls at the lapels of his jacket all the same. The newness of it all sparking tingles beneath their fingertips, reverberating all over their bodies and the way they mingle together in this place, in this now. 

She pulls back from his lips, just mere millimeters, far enough to cause a small whimper to leave Bucky. "I think about the weather too," She confesses, the meaning just as deep to her as it had been to him, even if he thought she hadn't originally picked up on that fact. 

"Let me take you somewhere, anywhere you want to go. Coffee, food, drinks, hell I'll take you anywhere, just say the word," He almost pleads, but the words come out more smooth than needy. 

"I have a shift to finish, and you still have an appointment, but you can pick me up from my place tonight," She punctuates her sentence with a brush of her lips against his, "And you can take me to get a pizza and beer on draft and we can talk more."

"About the weather?" He questions her, smirk across his lips. 

"Yes, about the weather." She confirms just before closing the gap between them again. 

[charliedawn]

wow, I re-read your works on Hannibal family and again I am delighted. it's perfection!! i am getting on my knees and begging for more. Maybe how the Hannibal family flirts or seduces the reader.

Here you go, dear. Hope you’ll like it. 😌

Morgan Hannibal Lecter :

Morgan doesn’t flirt. He is practical and wants to have control all the time. This is why he couldn’t possibly comprehend how anyone could possibly not see love as anything else than another pleasurable exchange between two individuals. He had changed the clauses of the relationship contract for you. So much that you were almost free. Was owning your attention really that bad for you ? Or did you simply not find him attractive ?

Morgan rarely bonds with his coworkers. But, you ? It was an instant connection. He immediately sought your undivided attention. And he even dreamt of you. He had asked you multiple times to be his partner, but you had refused each time. He didn’t understand.

So he had settled for the second best thing…watching over you and making sure you have no other choice than him.

"…Fly high, my little fairy." He blew hot air on your shoulders and chuckled darkly before wrapping his fingers around your throat from behind as you slept—blissfully unaware. "Just remember that I can as easily cut them…"

Peter Hannibal Lecter :

Peter is an attention-seeker and a touch-starved boy with very little impulse control. He’d hug you and kiss you and make you hold hands all the time. And the very moment he is not being cuddled with or kissed ? He’d whine and beg.

Peter : "Pleeeaaaassse ! Y/N ! You can’t do this to me !"

You : "…I AM GOING TO TAKE A SHOWER, PETER !"

Peter *bangs on the door* : "PLEASE !"

His love can be overwhelming and he’ll flirt by…being very attentive to your every need and become a true golden retriever. He’d bring you everything you want, be anyone you want and kill whoever you want.

He’d also be the type of boy to fall in love at first sight. Just saying. He wouldn’t hesitate to tell you I Love You the first time you meet. So, be prepared.

Kevin Hannibal Lecter :

Kevin *kisses your temple and hugs you from behind* : "Hey there, ~cutie pie."

Kevin likes to own things. He likes to be very close to his things at all times and as he possesses his art, he likes to be very close to you and remind the world that you’re his.

He doesn’t give a toss that you are talking to your friends or not. When he calls you ? You better answer and be there before he decides to show up and remind you that he isn’t someone to mess around with.

Kevin can be very tender and loving…but what he doesn’t like anyone to know is that he is also very self-conscious. And if he thinks you are going to leave him or go for another man…? There’s no telling what he’ll do to make you stay.

Kevin *chuckles and grips your hip tightly* "Let’s go home, sugar. You and I are gonna have a loooong discussion about always answering your damn phone when I’m the one calling you."

Hannibal Sr. Lecter :

Hannibal Sr. : "How about you and I get some dinner and then, we can eat near the little pond we both love so much ?"

Hannibal Sr Lecter would invite you to dinner and trick you into having you alone before interrogating you about your personal life and what makes you happy. He’d then make sure to show you his most charming side and seduce you.

He’d also bring you gifts of all kinds from his travels and slowly make you get used to him. And depend on him. Until you cannot get him out of your brain, heart or life. He’d become essential to you and make you crave his love before falling in love with you.

Because even love can be controlled, and he refuses to let love control him.

Hannibal Sr *after he fell in love with you* : "My little lamb…You and I are never gonna end. Not even as Death takes you, I am going to keep you alive. Forever."

Hannibal Jr. Lecter :

"Are you alright, my darling ?"

Hannibal Jr. will firstly try to flirt with you with his gestures. A gentle kiss on the cheek here, a brushing of hands there and maybe a little kiss on the forehead to make you feel his 'caring' nature. He would make you see that he is the best you can afford. And make it his duty to sell himself.

Hannibal Jr. Lecter can cook, read and listen. He can be the perfect gentleman in every circumstance and make you feel like you are the only one in the world. He would listen to you and be your comforting shoulder when you need it. He will flirt by being the best man you can find and knowing he’s the best of the best…will finally allow himself to flirt with you with his his words.

"…My darling. I am deeply infatuated by you. May you grace me with the endless enjoyment of your company ?" *extends his hand forward and tilts his head expectantly* "Please ?"

[starfirewildheart]

Scars and Souvenirs 

Chapter 2

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 2,324

Rating: NO MINORS, NSFW under cut. Police yourself please, mentions of war, being a POW, death and animal abuse. A little more detail in this one. More abused animals rescued all happy endings I promise.

Sy texted Debbie for the tenth time. His Ma was still talking and didn't look to be slowing down anytime soon and he didn't want her doing all the work herself.

Sy: Sugar, come back to the house. Ma's still ramblin' a mile a minute and showing no signs of slowin' down. Got steaks marinating for dinner. We can put the round bales out tomorrow and I'll help you finish brushin' everyone down then.

Deb: You spend time with your mom. I got dis! I have one more thing to do and then I'm comin' to the house. I haven’t been alone all day anyway. I have a friend.

Sy: oh?

(Not my dog or my pic)

Deb: she said you better have some steak for her too!

"Austin, are you listening to me?" Sara Syverson scolded.

"Sorry," he told her sheepishly. " I'm trying to get Deb to stop for the day. She's been out there for hours."

"Well honey it's hard work taking care of animals, she needs to know that."

Sy's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "What?"

"This animal rescue stuff is all her idea. She's spending your money and using you as a workhorse," she fussed. She loved her son and it broke her heart to see him used like this.

"Wait just a minute here, ma. I don't know what you're going on about but you are very wrong! This ranch was my dream and I asked her to join me.  When we heard about the horses being abused and sold for meat we BOTH wanted to rescue them, not just her." He moved to sit by her on the soda and took her hand. "I don't know why you don't like her or what's going on with you but you're blaming her for things that aren't her fault."

"You are with her 24/7. Is it too much to ask that you spend some time with your momma?" 

Sy cringed, "No of course not. I'm sorry," he hugged her as he tried to blink the tears from his eyes. "I never realized," his breath caught in his throat. "I'll do better, I promise."

The screen door banged open and Aika came bounding in jumping up on Sy sensing his anxiety. Debbie came in a few seconds later. "Wheew it's hot out there." She stopped in her tracks as she picked up on the heaviness in the room. "Is everything ok?" 

"Yea," Sy got up and hugged her. "We've just been catchin' up." She gave him a concerned look but didn't push. "Will you fix your famous potatoes for the grill before you take a shower sugar?"

Deb laughed. "Are you trying to say I smell, Sir?" She teased as she headed to the kitchen squeaking when he playfully smacked her ass.

"Ya reek sugar," he smirked as he got the foil out for her.

She could feel Sara's eyes on her as they moved around the kitchen, perfectly attuned to each other without even having to speak. She scrubbed her hands good then put some butter in a dish to melt in the microwave before moving to the sink to scrub the potatoes. Once that was done she retrieved the melted butter and started tearing off sheets of foil for each one. Brushing the potatoes all over with the butter  she then sprinkled them with sea salt, Italian herbs, garlic and onion powder then wrapped them all up tightly. "You sure that's all you want me to do?"

"Affirmative, get outta here." He smacked her ass again then grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against him kissing her when she started to walk away. He took advantage of her soft gasp and deepened the kiss exploring her mouth and getting lost in the feeling of her pressed tight against him. They both nearly jumped out of their skin when his mom's voice rang out loudly. Deb hid her flushed face against his neck.

"It's getting late. Shouldn't you be starting dinner?" Sara sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm gonna go clean up," She said, still blushing wildly. She didn't miss the disapproving look Sara shot her as she rushed out of the room.

~~~~~~♡~~~~~~

Sy watched as Deb flopped face first across the bed still fully dressed. He toed off his boots and laid down on his back beside, her resting his hand on her ass. 

" Mmmmm mmmmhm hummm." He laughed, "can't understand you with your face smashed in the mattress sugar." She turned her face toward him. "Your mom hates me"

"No, it's not you sugar, it's me. She's not been the same since I got stateside," he shrugged. "Guess her baby boy is too broken now." If the word 'D'fuq??' had a face Debbie was using it on him now and he couldn’t help the big belly laugh that escaped him.

"Austin Lee Syverson, that woman loves you more than life itself." She got to her hands and knees and straddled him pressing soft kisses on his lips and jaw. "And you, my love, are not broken. You are handsome, loving, passionate, strong, a leader, a hero." She punctuated each word with a kiss or a nip to his neck as she reached under his shirt and lightly ran her nails over his chest and stomach.

"Fuck", Sy moaned as she ground her core against his now hard bulge. "Way too many clothes," he growled before quickly stripping them both. This time he crawled on top of her with a wicked grin. He kissed his way down her body only stopping when he reached her shaved mound. "Mine," his growl was possessive. Since his return he was extremely possessive of her and didn't want anyone else even near her. He wanted the world to know she was his so he had started marking her by sucking or biting places and today it would be here.

He bent her legs and pushed them up to her chest, opening her beautiful flower to him. "So wet for me sugar. Look at you, already clinching, needing my cock."

"Please Sy," She mewled as she bucked up trying for his touch.

He quickly thrust three fingers knuckle deep into her while taking his left hand and exposing her hidden pearl before diving in and licking and sucking it.

"Oh fuck! Sy!" She circled her hips thrusting against his hand and mouth seeking that pleasure starting to build in her belly. The scruff on his face was leaving beard burn but she didn’t care Sy's mouth was a national treasure and the way he used suction and even a light scraping of teeth could make her cum in an instant. "Oh god!" She reached down and pushed his face harder against her throbbing pussy fucking up against his face until she cum with a scream, her body clenching and quivering, her legs shaking. As the throb started to die down she felt Sy's teeth sink in gently against her bare mound marking her causing her to his and yelp.

He licked the mark he'd made to soothe the ache before placing a kiss on the red mark already forming then crawled back up her body. "Mine."

"Only yours, always," She pulled him into a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue.

He kept her legs hitched up by his arms and rubbed his cock over her still sensitive folds before he started pressing inside her. They both moaned at the sensation."So fuckin' tight. Your body is made for me, sugar. Fits like a fuckin glove."

Debbie clinched around him as he filled her almost to full, the final push making her feel like she was going to burst leaving her panting. "So big baby. So full." She was beyond the ability to string words together at this point much less form sentences.

Always the best at what he does, Sy moved slowly at first. Slow, languid thrusts while he circled his hips. After her third orgasm clamped down on him he couldn’t hold back any more and started pounding into her. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wet sound of her juices leaking out around him and the cock drunk look of bliss on her face and he felt his balls start to draw up tight and his dick swell even more. "One more sugar. Give me one more. I wanna feel you milking me when I cum!" Reaching between them he started rubbing her clit and soon they were both falling apart crying out each other's names as he collapsed on top of her. He laid there a minuet before slipping out of her and rolling to his side pulling her against him. "I love you."

Deb snuggled to his side and pressed a kiss to his chest. "Love to Sy."

~~~~~~♡~~~~~~

A few days had passed and things were normal on the ranch. Deb had been researching an upcoming auction while Sy was trying to find a home for a mare and her foal that were ready for a family. "The Winston's are going to take them," he smiled happily.

"That’s wonderful. Their little girl will have a ball with the foal."

He walked over to her desk and sat on the edge of it. "Any prospects? "

"A few, sadly. There are a lot of rumors about a stallion that was beaten and abused to the point no one could even approach him then left uncared for. I read that his hooves are so overgrown they are curled around his feet."

"Damn," he shook his head. "I'll have the farrier and the vet on stand-by for Friday morning. Hopefully we can get him calm enough to give him some help right away."

"Sometimes I just really hate people."

He kissed the top of her head and hugged her.  "There are a few good ones out there still."

"So What you're saying is I can't break 'em all and make' em snap like glow sticks or push 'em down the stairs like slinkies?" She asked innocently. 

He flashed his crooked grin. "Just a few of the many reasons I love ya."

"Life will never be boring with me."

"That’s for damn sure," he chuckled. "Do we have everything we need in case this storm front is as bad as they think it's gonna be?" It was that season where bad weather could knock the power for days due to floods, wind and debris and they were calling for a bad one to start late tonight or early in the morning. 

"Animal's food and backup water supply is safely stored and ready. Aika had plenty of food and treatos. I stocked up on food and supplies for us yesterday and incase shit really hits the fan we gave the lovely MRE's hidden in the closet." They both cringed at the thought. "We filled the sandbags and got them ready the day before yesterday and we picked up three gerri cans of fuel for the generators. We are about as set as we are gonna be." She could see the crease between his brows and that he was chewing at his bottom lip which were all warnings of anxiety building in him. She reached over and put her hand on his thigh giving it a gentle squeeze. "You worried sweetheart?"

He took her hand in both of his. She could always tell if even the slightest thing was off with him. She and she alone was the reason that he made it through his POW recovery and the loss of his men. She spent weeks just holding him while he screamed and cried fighting tortures who were no longer there physically but in his mind were electrocuting him, beating him, breaking his bones, stabbing him, burning him, trying to drown him and killing his men and torturing them in front of him because he was an officer and they wanted information. He shook the thoughts from his mind when he felt her hands on his face and saw her standing in front of him. "No, I'm not worried about the storm sugar."

"Then what's going on up here? " She softly tapped his forehead. 

"Ma needs me to come by and put some sand bags by her back door and put the shutters on her windows."

"Ok." She wasn't sure why he'd be upset by that. "I'll grab my shoes."

"She wants me to come alone."

Ah, there it was. Sy hadn't spent more than 20 minutes without Debbie where she could get to him quickly since he landed in Germany.  She was his anchor. According to the army shrink, just the same way that sounds, smells and other things could trigger PTSD her voice, her scent and her touch helped ground him and pull him back. "I can go and wait in the truck," She offered.

He pressed his forehead against hers. "No. It's just Ma's place right? What could possibly happen to trigger me there? Besides, I've not had a flashback in months. I'll be fine."

He tried to sound convincing but she could tell he felt anything but. Protectiveness told her to demand to go with him but she knew she couldn't. Sy was a grown man making astounding strides in recovery and she had to show him her faith in him. She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm a text or call away if you need anything." 

He gave her a kiss and a hug before calling for Aika and heading to his moms.

@shellyshellshell

@enchantedbytomandhenry

[branwhen-will-the-pain-end]

Couple of paragraphs below cuz I'm feeling anxious and restless; I'm not a great writer so just. Keep that in mind.

Kieran brushin' some horsies. This is within a week of being freed so he's naturally skittish, I let him out of his shell in later chapters. <3

"Hey O'Driscoll boy!" Arthur called as he approached.

Kieran flinched. The tone had a slightly playful lilt, which Kieran was grateful for considering he was brushing Arthur's beautiful brindle thoroughbred without permission.

He'd been freed from his tree for maybe a week at this point, and eager to prove himself.

Tables could only get so clean, however, and he watched the horses in camp with longing. The van der Lindes took much better care of their horses than the O'Driscolls for sure, but they were also more protective. Kieran found it commendable but also frustrating.

His first friend was Silver Dollar. As he sat behind the rock smoking, Hosea's curious but nervous stallion would occasionally come to check him out. With pockets full of sugarcubes, Kieran made friends quickly.

Second was Arthur's horse. She was a beast, tall and strong and majestic, with a long white mane and tail that Arthur kept beautifully groomed. She wasn't afraid of anything, and though giving the impression of seriousness, she was actually quite playful. Not that unlike her owner.

"I-I didn't mean nothin' by it, sir, uh... She's so beautiful you know?" Kieran smirked ever so slightly and hesitated before giving her a soft pat on her neck.

"I stole her, you know." Arthur remarked calmly as he climbed onto her saddle. "From an O'Driscoll. Actually-" Arthur feigned being deep in thought, his tone shifting dramatically into threatening. "Is it stealing if I killed the bastard who owned her before?" He glared down at Kieran, who stepped back, eyes wide.

"Uhhh-"

"I'm just messin' with ya, kid." Arthur said with more frustration than amusement. He turned his horse and prepared to leave camp. "You can tend to any horse that will let you touch it. Watch out for Boaz. Anyone asks, tell 'em to take it up with me." The authority in Arthur's voice was somehow calming.

"Uhhh... Th-thank you, sir." Kieran just stood with his brush in his hand as he watched Arthur trot down the path.

After that confusing mess of abruptly changing emotions, he needed a cigarette. Maybe after, he'd give Silver Dollar a brushing.

[seas-storyarchive]

Lens Flair - What if

Note: this has Angel and Alastor friendship; could be seen as Radiorose (if not in one-sided)

[[MORE]]

It started as a taunting gift from Angel.

Hmm.. no, can't kill him. Valentino would call for war. Not to mention Charlie would be angry with him. No, no, that simply wouldn't be do.

He was hesitant, at first. He had his monocle, his vision was leagues better in death than it had been in life. So..

"Angel Dust?"

"Yeah, Smiles?" Angel was sitting with the others, most likely for cover from whatever Alastor would potentially do to him.

"Why on earth did you get me.. these?" He showed the item, they were red glasses with black rims.

So, he didn't sound mad? Well, not yet anyways. "Oh! It's cause yous like ta read, and ya squint a lot when yous confused at somethin', and I thought it'd be a nice way not ta strain yer lookin' at all dhose small prints or gettin' lost in da mental sause or whatevah's up dhere." Angel waved an arm about to illustrate his point. "Gotta keep dhem doe eyes looking wide, afta all. Let me know if dhey work alright, or if ya need a prescription pair, I got a guy dhat owes me a favor."

He looked at the glasses in his hands, feeling conflicted. "Hmm..." Dare he put them on? In front of others? Well, he was no stranger to glasses.. but..

"Here, lemme help ya." When the fuck did Angel get up and come so close!?

"Hmm!?" Alastor was frozen, like a dear in headlights, when Angel pulled the arms of the glasses open and carefully slid them onto Alastor's face.

Despite how having human ears anymore and the constant hair products, Alastor's hair still retained enough thickness to hold the glasses in place along with his nose.

Seeing the world through red lenses? Hm.. wonderful! Oh, if only they had these in his time! What a world of difference it would have made!

"Hey, Smiles." The snapping of fingers in front of him made him blink and his ears twitch.

Alastor looked up to see Angel had backed away a bit, one lower hand holding the elbow of the upper hand that wasn't in his face, trying to decide if he liked the image.

"How you feelin'-!?" A hug. A fucking hug. Initiated, by Alastor. Angel hesitantly hugged him back, as Alastor wasn't known for his hugs and- was that a tail that was brushin' against his lower arms! Holy hell!

"Wonderful, my fine fellow." He pulled back to smile at Angel. "One would even say.. enriched."

"Well, let's see." He turned to the others on the couch and chairs, watching. Al's face mostly blocked by Angel, so they weren't seeing much. "Nifft, can I see the book Al was readin'?"

"Okay!" Niffty grabbed the book and hopped off the couch, making her way over. Her eye widened when she saw Alastor's face, gasping. "Oh, Alastor sir! You look great!" She said as Angel took the book from her.

There was a very soft noise of something brushing against fabric - oh yea, the tail - as Alastor smiled at Niffty. "Why thank you, Niffty! I feel, well, simply nifty."

"Don't count it yet, let's check dhat readin' ah yours." Angel opened to the first page, mindful of the satin bookmark halfway through, holding it up. "Can you read dhis?"

Alastor tried, and found out he could - the noise getting louder as he made a 'happy deer noise' as Charlie and Niffty joked once. "Ho ho! Why, I haven't been able to see this clearly since 1931 when I got a new prescription! I'd venture to say that this is the clearest that everything has ever been!"

"Ignorin' dhat littl' tidbit for now- you ready ta put on a show?" Angel asked with a smirk.

"I suppose..?" Alastor tilted his head, squinting - nope, glasses seemed to only make this funnier. But Angel wisely kept it quiet as he turned around.

"Alright, yous mugs! Get ready fer a surpise.." Angel paused, and turned to Alastor, "wait, Smiles, do the creepy neck thin- yea, that.." creepy eyes on the back of his head bitch. "Oh, wait! Can you strike a pose - oh dhere's da money maker baby!"

Angel turned back to the crowd, clearing his throat. "Now, please give a round ah applause fer Smiles and his new eyewear!" He stepped away from Alastor.

They saw the back of his head, nothing new, while his body was in a performative pose.

"And- turn, baby! Show off dhat money maker!" Angel encouraged, his hands held up to form a square to 'focus' on Alastor.

Turn Alastor did, a wide and friendly smile on his face, to show off his new eyewear.

Husk spat out his drink. Vaggie's mouth dropped open. Lucifer cut himself while carving a duck. Charlie and Rosie - she'd helped Angel pick out the glasses, of course she was there - were silent.

Charlie was the first to speak, seeing the slow deflation of Alastor's face. "Oh Al! You look amazing!" She stood up with a smile, walking towards him and taking his hands.

"Y- you really think so?" Alastor asked, with a stutter, embarrassed. "I uh.. I have a face meant for radio and all, so I never truly considered getting a new prescription in death.."

"Uh, yeah! You look amazing!" Charlie turned to the room. "Right, everyone?" She squinted her eyes a bit in warning.

"Uh, yeah.. nice eyewear." Husk said, in fear of his life, before quickly starting to chug his beer.

"Not bad, Antlers." Lucifer said, finally mentally saying 'fuck it' and summoning a first aid kit.

"It suits you, truly." Ah, Vagatha.. always so curt with him.

And now, always time for the honest opinion of-

"Why I must say!" Rosie was fanning her face and - was she blushing!? "I wasn't expecting those to be such a perfect fit."

Oh.. oh, Alastor could work with this.

"Really? How so?" Alastor grinned at he moved away from Charlie to prance about - also testing his spacial awareness with the glasses.

"Oh, you know! I just.. glasses, and you, and your.. your immaculate image! I didn't want to up end-"

Alastor was suddenly in her face - nose to nose, for lack of a comparison, good ol' Alastor and ignoring boundaries - and all words died in Rosie's mouth. Oh, oh no - he's hot!

"Up end, how?" Alastor grinned as he asked her - breath of death be damned. "I think these make me look more, hm, articulate with my facial expressions." He batted his doe eye lashes at her. "Don't you think?"

Fuck! Fucking fuck! Rosie had trapped herself, the sound of sharp nails gripping and tearing into upholstery was heard.

And then - this little moment was ruined.

"Yeah! Get it, babies!" Angel whistled and started to whoop.

Alastor pulled away too quick for Rosie's liking, but at the same time she was also relieved.

"Well! If you'll all excuse me," Alastor backed up from Rosie, a smile of - oh, so triumph was what he was going for.. that bitch, "I must prepare for a radio broadcast!" And then, he vanished into shadows.

"Um, Rosie?" Charlie's voice made Rosie snap her head towards her. "Are.. are you okay?" Was she.. smiling?

"Y- yes. I'm.. I'm fine." No, she was not. She stood up, retracting her nails from the chair. "I, have some business to tend to in Cannibal Town! Fair well for the day, all!"

And, she was gone. After a minute..

"Damn, Smiles got a way wit' da ladies!" Angel said with a grin as he laughed. "Did you see dah way dhat chick looked at Smiles? Looked like she was ready for some bow-chicka-wow-wow!"

"Angel Dust, please!" Charlie scolded.

"What? You heard how she grippped Smiles' chair!" Angel laughed. "Oh! Oh man! At least now, I don't gotta teach Smiles how to charm someone! Kid's doing fine on his own!" He was now doubled over.

"Didn't think he had it in him." Husk said, before going to down another drink to get rid of the images the first one disgustingly left him with.

"Guys.." Charlie was trying to get them to stop.

"Seriously. Stop it." Vaggie had to agree with Charlie.

Angel kept laughing. "Hey- hey Luci? What you think? Smiles on top?"

Lucifer gave an ungodly snort. "Guy is definitely a power bottom with her."

Angel was now on the floor. "That's even funnier holy shit!"

Niffty's eye widened. "New lore.." She then rushed off to go write her stories.

"Charlie, let's just leave them be." Vaggie said, guiding Charlie out of the room.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

Hi! I'm sorry for bothering but i just found your account. You're the writer of "in the wild all lessons last" right? Do you still remember your fic where techno like to dance with his friends? I believe it's called "one-two-three". I was wondering if you have more ideas for it, beacause i love it so much and crave more :) it's fine if you don't. I just really want to know if techno manage to teach dream tango after they got out. Do they dance regularly? Did dream become good at it? ,ect... anyway, love your writing style❤

you made my day ty :)

yes, i did write "in the wild all lessons last," and my first dsmp fic ever was "one-two-three" !!  i watched this video when i was doing research for it, and it made me decide to go with tango for dream and techno. something about the style always seemed combative to me, so i think the best fighters on the server would really vibe with it.

so, i do think dream would be good at it, but it might take him some time to get there...

-------

/dsmp /rp

Dream hasn’t left his bed in about 23 hours.

It’s not that Technoblade’s been counting or anything.  He’s been busy doing other things-- he cleaned the animal stalls and set out fresh hay (which took around 4 hours), trained with the Axe of Peace (about 3 hours), took an embarrassingly long nap (4 hours total, with a brief intermission for dinner which took an extra hour), and read (2 hours).  Combined with his approximate 9 hour night prior, that takes us to 23 hours of almost no movement from Dream whatsoever.  But, again, Techno was not counting.

With the sun low in the sky, and with next to no attention from his former cellmate all day, he headed up to the guest room himself.

He saw Phil take some extra blankets up to him earlier, and while many of them were stacked on top of Dream’s legs and torso, both which were entirely too thin, others were rolled up between his arms and held tightly in a half-asleep embrace.  His hair, overgrown and wild, was partially in his face.  Techno struggled to peer between the tangled strands to get a look at Dream’s face, expecting to see him fully lost in sleep, but was surprised to spot a pair of green eyes looking back at him.

“Oh, hey, roomie.”

“Hey,” came the hoarse reply.

Techno sat on the edge of the mattress, slowly and carefully, aware of how his weight might jostle Dream.  “I got a job for you tomorrow,” Techno said.

Dream gave him a suspicious stare.  Small and limp on the bed, he didn’t look capable of completing any ‘jobs.’

“Dog brushin’,” Techno continued with a smile.  “I’ve been puttin’ it off, so I’m makin’ it your problem.”

Dream adjusted the way his head sat on the pillow, burrowing himself into it more.  He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.  His skin was drawn taut over his skull, pale and sickly, and his eye sockets bore a heavy shadow.  They might’ve been bruised.  “When?”

“Whenever, really.  I can wake you up after I’m done feedin’ everyone, maybe?  I just gotta show you where the brushes are, and tell you which dogs need it.”

“Mm-kay.”

Victory for Technoblade.  He grinned.  “Cool, cool.  See you tomorrow, then, nerd.”

He was about to lift himself from the mattress when Dream’s voice stopped him.  “Wait.”  

“Mm?”

“You wanted to dance with me.  In the prison.”

“Correction: I did dance with you.  That counted.”  Techno folded a leg below him on the bed, getting comfortable again.  “And I’m still teachin’ you to tango, like I promised.  Then we’re gonna dance all the time.”

“I’m even worse than I was before.  I walked to the bathroom by myself earlier and I fell.”  Behind the mess of his hair, Dream’s eyes were wet.  “You’re not gonna be able to keep your promise.”

Moments of total silence weren’t common in Techno’s life.  Even in times of peace, quiet spaces were usually filled with whatever repetitive nonsense the Voices yelled at him.  The Voices seemed just as shocked at Dream’s rare display of vulnerability as he was, though, and the silence in the room was unbearable.  He heard his own breath.  He heard Dream swallow, hard.

“You underestimate me, dude.  Look, I can dance with you right now.”

Giving little space for disagreements, Techno shoved his forearms under the mass of blankets and lifted.  For as light as Dream was before, he seemed even lighter now.  A few more months of starvation will do that to a man, he supposed.  The blankets Dream held in his arms were left abandoned on the mattress, unraveling as they dropped.  Before he was able to let out more than a muffled ‘Mmnpf!” of surprise, Dream was fully cradled and supported several feet off the ground.

Like before, Techno started moving.

He swayed, keeping the movement relatively slow.  He still remembered the pattern they created in the cell; 1-2-3-left-1-2-3-left, and he started there, tracing a circle around the guest room with his hooves.  His steps were more resounding and rich here than they were in the cell.  There, the obsidian made a sharp sound, but the wood of the cabin seemed more appropriate for a dance.

All the while, Dream was simply along for the ride.  The corners of his mouth curved into a smile.

“Tango’s all about pacin’, right?  So here’s what we’re gonna do.  Five steps, and the first two are slow,”  Techno stepped forward twice, starting with his left, “then fast twice,” he stretched his right leg outward, bringing them to the side with two quick steps, “and slowly drag the left foot back to meet, see? Slow-slow-fast-fast-slow.”

----------

Tango is all about pacing.

An observer wouldn’t be able to tell who was leading the steps-- they seemed to switch at random, constantly shifting their footwork and adapting to one another.  Slow-slow-fast-fast-slow.  One moment, Techno was clearly stepping forward, and the next, he’d be led back by Dream.  The trick was in their hands, actually; when Dream wanted to lead, he’d press his palms forward into Techno’s hands.  Techno, unfailingly, would let him.

And, of course, there were the moments of agility that Techno knew his partner would be fantastic with.  He’d sweep ahead, blocking Dream’s feet, and looked forward to seeing what jump or flair he’d use to counter the movement.

“Your hair’s whiter than I remember,” Techno commented once as he lead them into a Grapevine spin, bringing his hooves close together to base himself as he lead Dream around.

“Don’t think about it too hard,” was Dream’s somewhat dismissive answer.  His voice, no longer as small and hoarse as it used to be, projected well over the record player.  Techno had a collection of different music styles and genres that he liked to pull out for different dances, and he had a variety that were good for tango.  Some were slow, dramatic, and elegant, while others were more energetic and lively.  This day tended towards the latter, though they still shared many slow, dark routines that harkened back to their earliest dances together.  Dream would come to him with a heartbroken look in his eyes, and Techno would know what to do.

“Weird bleach job?”

“Uh, yeah, we’ll go with that, sure.”

Technoblade was no idiot.  He knew his rival was up to something.  The guy always seemed to have some kind of agenda he wouldn’t talk about, but whatever it was, it didn’t involve Techno right now, so he didn’t push it.  The back-and-forth of a good dance could be enough for now.

After all, he did make a promise.

[countrymusiclover]

10 - Misunderstood Communication

Part 11

The Last Velaryon

Comment your thoughts and anything you’d want to see in this story

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989

Robb and I did our best to rush into his war tent seeing that Chezney, Theon, his mother and the other Northern lords had already arrived pure his request. Robb rounded the table standing at the head with Theon on his right and I off to the side on his left. The tent flap was thrown open with a soldier informing. “We’ve captured a Lannister scout.”

“Don’t worry, lad. He won’t be leaving this tent with his head.” Lord Umber replied to Theon’s actions of flipping over the war map to cover the battlefield pieces they had set up.

Robb moved his gaze on the scout. “Where did you find him?”

“In the brush above the Encampment. He looked to be counting.” The lookout guard informed him.

Robb never removed his gaze from the young boy walking around the table and past the other lord until he reached him. “How high did you get?”

“20 thousand, maybe more.” He replied.

Another northern lord enters the conversation. “You don’t have to do this yourself. Your father would understand-“

“My father understands mercy when there is room for it. And he understands honor and courage.” Robb eyed the man looking over his shoulder at the boy. “Let him go.”

His mother rose from her chair to protest. “Robb.” But he didn’t dare look back at her to see her facial expression.

“Tell Lord Tywin Winter is Coming for him. Twenty thousand northerners marching south to find out if he really does shit gold.” Robb growls a whispering threat into the boy's ear.

The Lannister scout nodded, being dragged outside the tent in the next second. “Yes, my lord.”

“Leave us all now.” Robb spoke up in a gruff voice and his men followed. Chezney and Theon had left the tent but his mother lingered until he sent her a silent to go. Once she was gone outside he leaned his palms on the table flipping the war map back over scanning it another time. “Are you not going to say anything about what just happened?”

“As long as you hold Tywin's son he only has two options but to fight you in the field or accept peace terms if you have any of those in mind.”

He shakes his head no eyeing the map before him. “That’s not what I'm talking about.”

“You'll need ships to take Kings Landing. You have the loyalty of your men but you need more, especially ones who know how to fight and sail the seas.”

Robb sent me a glare raising his voice at me. “Haelesa, stop avoiding the conversation. Forget about the war strategies your father taught you and just talk to me!”

“I don't know what you want me to say, Robb.”

He moved away from the table and towards with his fur cloak swaying with his hips. “The kiss, Haelesa. That is what I am talking about.”

“I'm not sure what you want me to say about it.” I lied wishing I could tell him that I wanted to do it more. But I was married to the enemy he currently held prisoner.

Robb brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. “I want you to tell me how you felt about it. I mean I feel like an idiot for doing it, especially if you don't feel the same way.”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about the kiss, Robb. I'm not available in the eyes of the old gods and the new. Not after I declared vows to marry Jaime Lannister. I am his wife now and forever regardless of my feelings for you.”

His deep blue eyes brightened at those words and he took two long strides to me nearly closing the entire gap between our faces. “So you do feel something for me like I have been thinking you have.”

“Yes I have. What of it?”

He whispered a question. “How long?”

“Since the day we met at Winterfell.” I replied shifting my gaze up to his and the only sound you could hear was our breathing and the critors outside the tent.

Robb began leaning forward and I leaned up on my toes wanting to feel his lips on mine despite what my brain knew was the better option. We got so close to kissing with our lips brushing the other until Grey Wind came running into the tent getting in between us. “Grey! I - I should go. Goodnight Robb.” I shriek separating from his owner rushing out as fast as I could.

I wasn’t really sure where I was going until I halted in my tracks just outside Jaime's cage sucking in a shaky breath. I slowly walked forward standing outside the door seeing the lion lift his head up sensing my presence. “Lady Velaryon, what has you running off in such a hurry? Could it be that you've missed your dear husband?”

“I need to ask you something.” Thankfully there were no guards around as I removed the rope ties that were holding the jail door shut. Stepping inside I shut it behind me, lowering myself down on the ground to sit in front of him. “Would you do anything for a person you truly cared about. No matter the consequences or loyalty you have to another person?”

Jaime tilted his head as much as the chains would allow. “Are you saying you love me?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I'm not.”

“Are too.”

I finally raised my voice at him wishing I could slap him across the face right now. “Jaime!”

“It's alright, little Velaryon. I already knew who's holding your heart.”

Knitting my brows at him. “You do but how?”

“After we left for Kings Landing from Winterfell my brother told me there was something obviously going on between you and the wolf boy. I may be slow but I can see it now after all, we don't choose who we love.”

Twisting the fabric of my cloak in my fingers I gave him a confused expression. “You’ve been in love before, with who?”

“How many first born sons have you known to join the KingsGuard and defend the very queen they’ve related to?”

The realization washed over my face and the eldest Lion son smirked seeing my reaction. “Cersei, Cersei’s the one you love. And - and that means that the Baratheon children weren’t Robert’s but in truth they were yours. That’s why Ned Stark was killed because he learned the truth.”

“You are much more than just the Last Velaryon daughter. Before you go and inform the wolf boy can I ask one thing of you?”

Shaking my head I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me. “What could I give you, Jaime. And why do you talk like this might be the last time we speak?”

“The second you tell him what I just told you I doubt I’ll have my head for much longer. My head will likely be sent to my father as a warning, so grant me one last request from you, Haelesa.” His green eyes locked onto my gaze with a gentle glow.

Tucking hair behind my ear I agreed. “Fine. What do you wish from me?”

“Kiss me. You may not be Cersei but you are the closest I have to die in the arms of the woman I truly love.” Jaime begged me with a horse's response in the back of his throat.

I should’ve slapped him across the face or left that cell without another word to him. Except that wasn’t the case when I did owe him a show of thanks for letting me not be hidden away in Kings Landing or Casterly Rock while he went off to war. “Just one kiss. That is all you get.”

“Unless you beg for more - ow!” He smirked, causing me to slap him on the cheek.

Glaring at him I leaned in forward creating a very small gap between us and our lips. “Just be quiet or you’ll get nothing.” He closed the gap between us and I shifted my body forward to deepen the kiss after we had been kissing for a good few seconds.

Hearing a deep growl of an animal behind me I broke the kiss, whipping my head around and squinting through the darkness to see Grey Wind standing up against the cell bars. “Robb?” I gasped seeing his face next to the burning torch he held in one hand.

“You’ll die for this, Kingslayer!” He growled like the wolf by his side stomping away without one word or glance to me.

Picking up the ends of my cloak I bolted out of the cell and after his heels as quickly as I could physically manage since he was taller than I was. “Robb! Robb, please wait. Ugh just wait - let me explain.” I felt a tightness in my chest where I was struggling to breathe yet I managed to snag his wrist in my two hands holding him from walking away any further.

“There’s nothing to explain. You betrayed me, Haelesa. For all I know you’ve been betraying me the second I allowed you into my camp.” He snapped at me, brown eyes darkened with vengeance and hurt all at the same time.

I croaked through tears with a raspy voice. “Robb, what you just say isn’t what you think it to be. If you just give me a chance to explain it to you then-“

“No Haelsa! I don’t want to hear anything from you. Just - just stay away from me for a little while. Come on, Grey.” Robb paused, raising his voice at me where I took a step backwards before he tapped his leg signaling for his wolf to follow him.

Standing frozen in my spot I was at a complete loss for words, knowing that I needed to find some way to tell him the truth. He needed to know that I wasn’t a traitor, not to him.

[mxlktxa]

road trips :)

cw; modern!au, strong language, terrible song references, ellie would probably never listen to these songs but the one of many ellies in my brain do so… yeah, if you dont like ice spice yes you do only for 2 seconds

songs referenced; lets groove by earth, wind & fire, hey ya by outkast, princess diana by ice spice

full rambles/quick reads here!!

♬ lets just get straight to the point, on roadtips theres music which means ellie is in charge of the music which also means if you dont like the song thats playing or she skips a song you like then it sucks to be you

♬ she plays a huge range of music, so thats where youre lucky but the trip always start with a song from the 80s or 90s !!!ALWAYS!!!

“you and this song, good fuckin lord ellie”

“shut the fuck up, you know its a good ass song”

“yes, but its not the only song on earth ellie”

“… lets groove tonight, share this spice of life”

“fuck me”

♬ at any stop either pumping gas (well after pumping gas) or at any drive thru ellie blasts a song that would get you to shake ass (ellie is always recording or watching in amazment) or just screaming lyrics and putting on a ‘performance’, anything to get your hips and/or ass moving

♬ that or shes playing a movie soundtrack, a sappy slow song, or something from a video game its always a surprise/shock

“babe?” ellie had her phone in hand scrolling slowly “how much do you love me?”

“not enough, why?”

ellie smirked, the intro coming on as she was watching you get out of the car and start to jump around all happy

“my baby dont mess around dont mess around because she loves me so and this i know for sure!”

“she loves me”

♬ ellie loves seeing you add your own favorite songs to her just to holler the lyrics, even if the song pisses her off she just loved seeing you all happy and giddy

“turn this shit off”

“callin my phone but they know i dont answer in the hood im like princess diana!”

“jesus christ”

“im thick cause i be eatin oats bitches not takin shit from me but notes!”

“youre so irritating and this is so fuckin bad babe”

“eat me! to her man im the girl of his dreams thinkin bout me when he brushin his teeth!”

♬ at stops where ellie just needs a refresher or wants to just talk because youd been sleeping a refresher she makes sure to park far from everyone else, looking to you with a little smile

“hey pretty girl” ellie brushed the back of her had against your cheek “slept good?”

“mmm. do we still have those fries? or my burger? my mouth is so dry”

“i wonder why,” she placed a napkin at your chin, cleaning up the drool that rested there.

“… wheres my food and where are we?”

♬ once reaching your destination, ellie stops at a little shop buying you both little souvenirs to start off

♬ also snaps a few pictures of you and her surroundings to start the trip but mainly so her photobook always starts off with you or some scenery

“look at this little notebook! its so cute”

“mhm”

“can i get a pen? i want a pen”

“sure thing”

“are you listening to me?” you turned as the flash went off, ellie capturing your pout in the photo, smirking at it

“im always listening. i just like these off guard photos better”