#there's so many good fics on ao3 and yet so little time in a day

[seraphine-ann]

To Be Loved ↳ ❝ [CH.01 - New routine] ¡! ❞

ᯓ★synopsis here.

pairing: Congressman Bucky Barnes x Fem!OC

summary: Bucky has a hard time accepting that his daughter has to go to her first day of preschool.

warnings: slight mention of Bucky's past and the effect it still has on him i guess (?).

words: 3.3k

author's note: I know tumblr is more about character x reader but i enjoy more using my OCs, so i hope you enjoy Kiara as much as i do :') i was so excited writing this chapter, i reviewed it like crazy and also have my lovely bestfriend beta read for me. this fic is also going to be uploaded on AO3, i'm going to link it below! i hope you guys enjoy it.

It was still odd to him.

Being woken up in the early morning by rays of sunshine coming through the windows and in between the curtains, instead of abruptly opening his eyes in the middle of the night, cold drops of sweat running down his face as an ongoing loop of a memory of him from decades ago leaving “no witnesses” was heavily vivid on his mind.

To wake up and realize he’s being held in the arms of the person he loves the most, to feel the warmth of her body against his each morning, to hear her slow and calm breathing—It felt so distant, so strange, yet it always felt right.

Bucky wanted to be somebody’s safe place, and he’s been exactly that for the past eight years. To his wife, and to his daughter. Yet he could never shake the feeling of not being good enough for them, it was the only thing that kept him up at night most of the time.

Last night was no exception, which was a big problem that day, given the fact that he had an important meeting at Congress, and he barely had three hours of sleep.

He sighed through his nose, accommodating himself on his back, trying not to move much so that could wake up the woman that was comfortably cuddling up to his bare chest. Blue eyes focused on the digital clock over the nightstand to his right, 6AM turning on and off.

He didn’t need an alarm, the routine given to him in the military was still very much engraved in his head despite how many decades have past, so no matter how much he did or didn’t sleep, the bed would always spit him out before sunrise.

“A few minutes more…” Her raspy voice startled him, immediately making him look down to her lazily rubbing her face against his chest.

“You’re awake.” The man stated the obvious, and she granted him a little snore preceded by a soft chuckle.

“I am, though I wish I could just stay like this for a little longer.” Her arms wrapped tighter around him, plump lips kissed his chest before she could break the warm contact of their bodies. 

He plopped his head on the pillow, sighing again as his eyes followed her naked figure moving around the spacious bedroom looking for her silk robe to cover herself, aware that their little one could barge into the room at any moment.

“But I’m aware my dear husband has important places to be, and I,” She pointed to her chest, a big smile gracing her lips. “Have a little girl to get ready for preschool.”

Bucky closed his eyes and frowned as he held his fingers up to his temples, making a headachy expression once the word preschool came out of her mouth.

“Kiara, baby, can we please talk about that again?” He was pleading, and by the way she turned to look at him, drowsy green eyes and arms crossed over her chest, he knew she was not up to discuss anything.

She sat on the bed again, brushing the ruby red strands of hair that messed up her head before securing it with a big hair clip. The woman felt a pair of arms–one colder than the other, gently wrapped her waist, messy strands of his hair peek through the fine silk of her robe as he rubbed his face against her stomach.

“Please?”

He kissed her over the fabric, a smirk on his lips when he heard a soft sigh leaving her mouth and her hands made her way to his hair, stroking it with care.

“We won’t discuss it again, Buck,” She whispered before kissing his temples. “She should’ve started preschool last year, honey. We delayed it because you insisted the schools were not safe enough.”

“Well, I-”

“Every school in Brooklyn we looked into.”

She raised an eyebrow expecting a comeback, yet he said nothing, making a thin line with his lips and hiding his face on her thighs, hands caressing the soft melanated skin below his fingers.

Kiara knew it was difficult for Bucky, after all he’s been through, and after all that has happened in the world—in their country, what would he do if he couldn’t protect them? It was a fear he had really close to his chest, a fear that would often drift him to hours of dissociative and anxious thinking. 

The fact that their daughter has to be in a place that couldn’t guarantee her safety against any kind of threat made his mind go into a spiral.

If something ever happened to their daughter, or his wife, he would not have the guts to live with that.

“This is one of the best and safest schools in the state. It’s closer to your office than it is from mine, and we chose it that way to make you feel more at ease with the idea.” The woman held his face between her soft hands, thumbs caressing his growing beard. “She needs to socialize with kids her age, honey…”

“I know, I know.” Bucky let out a deep sigh, rubbing his nose bridge before clearing his throat. “It’s just that,” He clenched his jaw in an attempt to avoid his voice breaking. “I’m worried.”

Kiara tilted her head, clearly confused. What more was there to worry about? They had already discussed everything. Bucky knew that look on her face, and proceeded to break contact with her, sitting straight next on the bed, hands fidgeting with each other over his lap as he searched for the right words.

Now she was the one getting worried.

“The school is being notified that she is my daughter. That I am her dad.” He took a deep breath. She still wasn’t getting it. “I’m already aware that there have been… complaints, from some of the other parents.”

The way her face dropped was enough to make him think it was a bad idea to tell her. There was no one else on the planet more overprotective of him than her, so whenever she finds out about this kind of stuff being said, it truly makes her blood boil.

With the amount of backlash they have received over the years, someone would think that they had already gotten used to it. But no, and somehow it managed to get worse after their daughter was born. People warning Kiara, questioning if she made the right decision to be with “a man like that”, asking her if she wasn’t scared that some old habits of his might come back; talking nonsense as if they knew him. Even after he was pardoned, after the insane amount of assistance he has given to the government, and even after the incredible job he has been doing at Congress… People still saw the lethal man of his past.

A past that he had no control over.

A past she had no right to judge, considering hers was on the same path as his.

Bucky could see it in her eyes as they gradually began to turn to really dark green compared to how clear they normally were. She was pissed, and he knew that whatever was going through her mind at that moment was not a good idea in any way possible. Luckily, just before she opened her mouth, the creek sound of the bedroom door getting slowly opened was enough to shut her down before she even got a chance to consider setting the entire PTA on fire.

Tiny, lazy steps filled the sudden silence in the room as the sleepy five year old made her way to the king sized bed, standing on the right side of it as she tried to crawl up to the mattress. The man gave a quick glance to his wife, who in that moment had to take a deep breath and get up, walking towards the bathroom and closing the door half way.

She needed time to calm herself down, and Bucky felt bad that he even brought the topic to the point of causing this small disturbance within her.

“Daddy, up.”

Bucky met with a pair of drowsy, light blue eyes, just like his, and a smile was quickly drawn into his face. His metal arm reached her, effortlessly bringing her up and placing her on his lap with all the gentleness in the world as he left a kiss at the top of the messy brown hair.

“Morning, puddin’.” He rubbed her back as she found her way to his chest, resting her tiny being against him.

It was not a surprise to him that she was up so early in the morning. His daughter was just like him, an early bird since birth, her big and shiny ocean blue eyes with a hint of green wide open at five in the morning. He chuckled to himself, suddenly remembering all those sleepless nights they both had to stay awake for because their precious little one was doing everything except sleeping.

Bucky used to hold her just like that, her entire body curled up over his chest, one of his hands being capable of covering her entire body because of how small she was. Now, her hands and legs wrapped around his torso like an adorable koala, and her face often hiding in the crook of his neck.

For somebody who’s a hundred and nine years old, this time felt like life was going just a little bit too fast.

After a few minutes that felt like long hours of warm snuggles for the tired man, just when he believed he was going to get a bit more sleep, he sensed Kiara finally getting out of the bathroom, now wearing black leggings and a sleeveless top underneath a soft cardigan. Bucky was wide awake again once he sniffed the scent of her body wash, making him open his eyes just to find her trying to take their daughter from his arms.

“Wake up, Livie…” The woman whispered to the little girl as she snuggled up against her. Kiara was enamoured, leaving kisses all over her puffy face, listening to her low giggles. “Let’s get you ready, c’mon.”

Bucky watched them from the bed, the right corner of his mouth raising a bit as his gaze softened. Before his wife walked out of the room, she gave him a look that was more than loud and clear, which made him deeply exhale, leaving him with no choice other than to get up himself.

───── ⋆✩⋆

She took a glance at the moon-shaped clock on top of the white cabinet in front of her daughter’s bed, marking just a few minutes past seven. She sighed to herself, there was still no need to rush, the school opened at 8:30AM, so Kiara would be grateful if she actually managed to give everyone breakfast before they left.

Her hands finished adjusting the small uniform, a dark red overall dress over a white turtleneck with long sleeves. The weather channel that day said temperatures would keep dropping throughout the day, and the last thing she wanted was for her daughter to come home with a runny nose and a worrying fever.

“Have you decided which jacket to wear, honey?” The woman pointed to a deep blue and a hot pink puffer jacket spread over the carpeted floor.

Olivia brought her finger to her chin, pondering the options for at least three seconds before pointing at the deep blue one. Kiara smiled gently at her, giving a small nod as she stood up with both clothing pieces in her arms, leaving one for her daughter to hold and keeping the other in the closet.

Kiara was leaving everything organized in the bedroom, too immersed in her own thoughts while trying to figure out which way to style her daughter’s hair would be quicker—and which hairstyle wouldn't lead to a meltdown. She took the small bag where she kept all the hairstyling essentials, such as hair ties, a hairbrush and a few accessories her daughter loved to wear on a daily basis—mostly to fish for compliments from her daddy.

Once she turned around, expecting to find her exactly where she left her, there was no one. A soft sigh escaped her lips and a small smile surfaced on her face when she walked out of the room and went downstairs, knowing exactly where her daughter would  be.

While navigating the first floor of the house, her eyes immediately drifted to their family pictures scattered all over the place. On the walls, in shelves—everywhere you looked, there were photos of them. Their wedding on the beach, Olivia's newborn photos, old pictures of Bucky with Steve in the 40s, pictures where he was hanging out with Sam, them with the Wilsons, photos of their trip to Wakanda… a lot of pictures, memories that they often cherished and wished they could go back to.

Kiara couldn't help it, she always felt a bit of pity towards herself. Before Bucky, she had no family, no friends—she didn't even know her parents. At least he had Steve, and then he found Sam… And then, her. But she had no one, and going from having nothing to having everything was never not going to be overwhelming to think about.

“Where are your shoes, baby girl?” The clear concern on Bucky's voice came to her ears all over from the kitchen, snapping her out of her mind almost immediately. “You're gonna get your pretty socks all dirty.”

“But daddy, I wanted to show you the jacket I chose.” She whined, surrounding the kitchen island to where Bucky was—right in front of the stove, and she lifted the puffer jacket towards him, insisting. “Dad!”

“Livie, you can't be near the stove while it's on.” He reprimanded her with sweetness, looking down to where she was and holding her up to quickly leave her sitting down on the kitchen counter behind him. “Let me finish here and then I'm all yours, alright?”

She inflated her cheeks and frowned while hugging the jacket against her chest, her tiny feet hanging out and moving impatiently after Bucky kissed the top of her hair and went back to tend the stove before the pancakes could burn.

The woman finally entered the spacious kitchen, chuckling when she noticed the expression painted on her daughter's face, but all her attention quickly went to her husband. Bucky was half-way ready, he had his formal navy blue pants and belt on, yet she could see the exposed undershirt due to his white shirt being entirely open, letting her know he had just put it on before coming down.

She sighed, placing her hands on her hips while approaching him, tapping his arm.

“You should be getting yourself ready, mister.” She raised an eyebrow, now closing her arms. “I told you I would take care of breakfast. You're gonna be late.”

“I'm almost done here, I promise.” He whispered, almost sounding like he was begging. Kiara frowned slightly, and he exhaled when he noticed.

The look he gave to her was definitely a pleading one, but a form of pleading that let her know he really needed to continue with whatever he was doing at the moment, and finish it. She said nothing, just nodded with a soft smile, and left a gentle caress on his shoulder before walking away, focusing on her daughter again, trying to convince her to go with her to put her shoes on and to do her hair.

Bucky was grateful that Kiara knew him so well to know what he needed with just a simple glance. 

There was a lot going on that morning for him. Having to prepare himself mentally to deal with the people at the Congress, to endure the concerned and unsure approach of other members towards him, the gossiping, the looks of disapproval of his presence within people like them. He had to do that almost every week, and he was never getting used to it, of the reports and papers he had to read and sign, the speeches, the meetings, everything. The weight of this job never goes away, no matter how many years pass, yet it was bearable enough. 

But having to prepare for his daughter's first day at preschool, was something he still couldn't excel.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit scared. He had his reasons. The fear of how other kids may treat her just because she's the daughter of a man with such a dark past. Only the Gods know what kind of things those kids are aware of, what their parents might have told them about him, about who he used to be, what he used to do. He was afraid his little girl might have a hard time because of him, because of his past and the unimaginable things he's done that she still doesn't know about.

What if they pick on her.

What if they leave her behind.

What if they tell her.

“Honey…” He was quickly brought back to his senses, feeling a gentle hand over his right arm.

The man blinked a couple of times, a long exhale leaving his mouth as he slowly realized he had entirely broken the handle of the pan with his left hand. He was about to start apologizing in small whispers, yet Kiara didn't let him, holding his face between her hands and feeling her heart aching once those blue eyes started to be filled with heavy tears.

“I'm sorry.” 

“No. You are not saying sorry for anything.” She quickly stated, more like an order, a warning. But he was too in his head.

He melted into her arms, his face hiding in the crook of her neck while his arms wrapped her entire body, holding her as close as he could. She had closed her eyes the moment he leaned down, her hands caressing his hair and down to his back, where she patted him and soothe him while rocking him side to side really slowly.

“She's going to have a great day.” Those words only made him tighten his grip around her, and she didn't complain. “She's excited. She picked her jacket the same color as your suit, because she wants to wear something to match with her daddy.”

Bucky lifted his head, and the clear look of disbelief on his face was enough to get a soft giggle out of her while she wiped the tears off his face.

“You are everything to her, Bucky. Nothing will change that.”

He took a deep breath, a really deep and shaky one.

Normally, he could barely show any sign of emotion other than his usual “grumpy” expression towards others, his piercing blue eyes letting you know how done he was with your sole presence. But with his family, it was a whole different story. Bucky felt he was allowed to show himself entirely, to let go of his deepest emotions however he needed to.

He felt seen—By his wife and even his daughter. And that's all he needed to feel grounded.

Kiara smiled fondly at him, tilting her head as a way of telling him to look behind him. Bucky sniffed and did as he was told, and the view of their daughter coming into the kitchen while poorly trying to adjust her new backpack over her shoulders came before his eyes.

“Daddy, please help…” She let out a soft grunt followed by a whine as she pulled from his pants, wanting to get his attention.

The man gave one last look to his wife, one that let her know he was going to try, that he was willing to accept this new routine, and be as supportive as he needed to be for his daughter. 

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A03 here

[sylusxyou]

Afternoon Under the Sun | LaDS Sylus x Reader Fic

Summary: After a long and stressful week at work, Sylus decides you deserve an afternoon unwinding with him on his yacht. When Sylus refuses to get in the water with you, you get creative in order to get what you want. (ugh summaries suck)

Pairing: Sylus x fem!reader (MC implied, but very vaguely)

Word Count: 3.1k

Content: flirty sylus, topless reader (oooo), sensual sunscreen application, and of course a little fade to black because i'm not ready to go full into smut just yet

Author's Note: It's the yachting fic!!! Inspired by Sylus' Intimacy Game secret times where it is so casually mentioned Sylus owns a yacht. Like??? Tbh I think there are no good words for boobs so I apologize for using the word chest so much. This isn't directly smut so tits felt a little intense lmao. I had fun writing this but now my ideas are spent. I hope you enjoy and if you have any recs for future fics, LMK!!!

AO3 Link

Despite the lack of clouds in the sky, the summer heat wasn’t overbearing. The air was warm and dry with a gentle breeze rustling your hair. In front of you the clear water of the ocean glittered under the sun. It was the perfect day to be on the water. Work had been particularly stressful the past few weeks, an onslaught of paperwork and Wanderer outbreaks. You had spent an entire evening unloading all of your frustrations on Sylus as he sat and listened, gently rubbing your back. He had suggested a day on his yacht to unwind.

“Your yacht?” 

“Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve taken it out anyway.” 

“You have a yacht?” 

“Yes, kitten.” 

Of course Sylus had a yacht and of course it was the largest yacht you had ever laid your eyes on. To be fair, you hadn’t seen many yachts in your life so you weren’t sure what the average size of one was. However, you were sure that Sylus’ was above average. Well above it. 

You watched him walk towards you down the dock where the yacht was stationed. He had asked you to meet him here so he could make sure everything was prepared for the both of you. What preparations he had to oversee you weren’t exactly sure but you were excited to find out. 

As Sylus made his way towards you, you took the time to appreciate him. Today he was dressed in white board shorts and a black button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Normally you would scoff at someone wearing a collared shirt to go out on the water but Sylus managed to make it look equal parts casual and elegant. He looked expensive, as usual, sunglasses resting low on the bridge of his nose. Confidence radiated from him with every step he took closer to you. No matter how often you saw him you would never get used to looking at him. Each time felt like seeing him through new eyes. 

Suddenly you felt a wave of nerves wash over you, overly aware of the way your swimsuit cover up was wrinkled and the way your hair was tangled from the breeze. No matter how much you tried you were never able to be as put together as him. He seemed to revel in that fact though. Even now as he came to stand in front you, he reached out to smooth the hair on the top of your head with a grin on his face, “It seems a disheveled kitten has gotten lost on the docks.” 

You swat away his hand, “Not everyone can look like they just walked out of a high fashion magazine.” 

“This look suits you.” Sylus grabs the bag resting on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, sweetie. Even with your hair in your face you still look better than me.” His free hand grabs yours, intertwining your fingers, and pulling you towards the yacht at the end of the dock. 

You nudge him with your elbow, “Whatever you say, Mr. Sweet-talker.” 

He huffs out a laugh and squeezes your hand, “Are you prepared for our day of relaxation?”

“Do you have to prepare to relax?”

Sylus shakes his head, “For most people I would say no. For you and I though, yes.” 

He was right, of course. The large tote bag he was now carrying for you was filled with various sunscreens, an extra pair of clothes, a water bottle, and some snacks. Sylus had been intentionally vague when you asked what spending a day on a yacht entailed. There was no doubt in your mind that he would have all of the things you brought along and more but packing your bag calmed you down. 

“I would feel more prepared if you told me what you had planned.” The two of you arrived at the end of the dock, standing in front of the ramp that lead into the yacht. The size of it was even more imposing now that you were closer. 

Sylus slung your bag over his shoulder and put his hand on your back, gently pushing you along with him as he began walking up the ramp. “There are no plans today. That’s where the relaxing comes in.”

As you stepped onto the deck of the yacht you were met by an older man dressed in all white. He extended his hand towards you, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ll be your captain today. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask. My staff will be happy to assist you.” 

“Staff?” As you looked to Sylus, a woman came up beside you both with a tray. On top of the tray sat two flutes of champagne. Sylus grabbed the glasses and handed one to you, “You didn’t think a boat of this size operated on it’s own did you?” 

You shook your head, “Believe it or not, I have no frame of reference for this sort of thing.” 

“Well, I’m glad I have the chance to change that.” Sylus turned his attention towards the captain, “We can head out now.” The captain nodded at Sylus and walked off to what you assumed was the control room. 

As the yacht began to move out, Sylus took time to show you around. Every new room left you more speechless than the last. There was a bar, a dining room, a bedroom, even a pool which you found redundant given you were on the ocean. It was the most jarring example of Sylus’ wealth you had experienced thus far. While you felt out of place you were mostly touched he wanted to share these luxuries with you, that he felt you were worth all of this and more. You were determined to enjoy every minute of this day. 

After your tour of the boat, champagne lightly buzzing through your body, you and Sylus went to settle on the bottom deck. The deck was positioned at the back of the boat and had various lounge chairs and couches. At the edge of the boat there were steps down to offer easy access to the water when the time came. You settled on the edge of a chair and closed your eyes, taking in the feel of the wind under the warm sun. There was an inexplicable serenity to being on the water and you hardly ever had the opportunity to do so. As you reveled in the cool breeze brought on by the yacht’s movement across the water, Sylus came to stand in front of you, blocking the sun from your face. You cracked one of your eyes open, “I was enjoying that sunlight.” 

He pulled his sunglasses on top of his head, “And I am enjoying you.” Sylus winked and moved to sit behind you, one of his legs on either side of you. “If you’re going to enjoy the sun you need to put on sunscreen.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed gently.

“And I suppose you’d like to help me with that.” 

You could hear the smirk in his voice as he replied, “You know me so well, kitten. I’m nothing if not helpful.” His hands moved down your back and forward to the tops of your thighs where the hem of your coverup rested, “You’ll need to take this off.” 

Goosebumps rose across your skin and you fought to hide the shiver that ran through your body. Of course Sylus would take every opportunity he had to tease you and of course you enjoyed it but you refused to admit it. You were thankful you had your back to him so at the very least you could hide the blush that would undoubtedly rise on your cheeks. You pulled the coverup off over your head as quickly as possible, trying to keep the movement from seeming sensual in any way. Sylus grabbed it from you and placed it behind him, his hands now resting on the bare skin of your back. The swimsuit you had chosen to wear was a bikini more revealing than you were used to. You had Tara to thank for that. After she saw the one piece you had planned to wear you thought she might personally burn it to keep you from ever wearing it again. She was quick to point out that Sylus, who she knew as Skye, had already seen every inch of your body, which made you regret ever telling her about the night you spent with him. She was right, of course, but you had only been with him like that once and it was in the cover of night. Now you were more exposed than you had been in front of him under the brightness of the sun, every bump and blemish visible to him. It was impossible to not be nervous. 

While you were caught up in your thoughts, Sylus had reached into the bag you brought to grab a bottle of sunscreen. After squeezing some in his hand he spoke softly behind you, “It might be a little cold.” You quietly nodded your head and he began spreading the sunscreen across your back and shoulders. His hands moved slowly and gently on your skin, occasionally running under the straps of your swimsuit. As he rubbed the sunscreen up and down your sides, his fingertips softly brushed over the edge of your breasts. There was no stifling the small sigh that escaped your lips. This earned you a quiet chuckle from Sylus. He continued his exploration of your skin, the two of you enjoying the feeling of each other without exchanging any words. You were unsure how much time had passed when you felt Sylus lean forward and whisper in your ear, “All done. Now it’s time for the front.” 

This snapped you out of your trance and you stood up from the chair, “I think I can take care of the front myself.” Sylus grinned at you, eyes unabashedly moving down your body. You crossed your arms, “Enjoying the view?” 

“Obviously, sweetie.” He rose off the chair to stand in front of you, sunscreen in hand, “If I’m done helping you, how about you help me?” He passed the sunscreen to you. You quickly grabbed it from him and moved behind him. Your application of the sunscreen went a lot faster than Sylus’. You didn’t have the courage to tease him the way he teased you, not while you were so thoroughly flustered. Once the two of you were sufficiently protected from the sun you laid out on the lounge chairs. A comfortable silence settled between you as you both basked in the sun. Occasionally the two of you drifted into sleep. When you were awake Sylus would check on you, making sure you were enjoying your relaxation. 

After some time had passed and the yacht had been parked for a while, the heat began to feel oppressive. Laying out wasn’t as relaxing so you decided it was time to get in the water. As you stood up Sylus looked at you, “Where are you going?” 

You stretched a hand out to him, “Come on, lets get in the water. It’s getting too hot.” 

“You go ahead, kitten. I’m not planning on getting in the ocean.” 

“What?” You scoffed and grabbed his arm, “Yes you are. You did not drag me all the way out here to make me swim alone.” Attempting to get him up, you tugged on his arm but he wasn’t budging. 

Sylus sat up as you continued to pull on him, “The ocean doesn’t agree with me. I’d rather not have salt water stinging my eyes or drying out my mouth.” He stood up and grabbed your hands in his, “I’m happy to get into the pool with you though.” 

“We can swim in a pool on land. Don’t be a baby.” You walked towards the stairs leading into the water, pulling Sylus with you. Turning back to him, you put your arms around his neck and pressed your chest against his, “You really won’t come with me?” 

His hands slid around your back and rested just above your ass, “You’re very tempting, sweetheart. Unfortunately, I have astounding restraint. Besides, I’ll thoroughly enjoy watching you. Especially in this.” His fingers tugged at the top of your bikini bottoms. 

You pushed away from him, exaggerating your frustration in an attempt to guilt him. “Whatever,” you grumbled, “I’ll go have fun by myself.” Sylus laughed as you descended the stairs into the water. Your body immediately cooled down as you pushed off the back of the yacht and slowly swam out. You shouted at him, “It could be dangerous for me to be out here by myself!” This was an exaggeration, of course, as the water was completely calm and you were close enough to the boat to swim back with complete ease. 

“Don’t worry,” Sylus called back as he took a seat on the edge of the boat, legs hanging over the stairs, “I’ll keep a very close eye on you.” 

You rolled your eyes and moved to float on your back. The gentle movement of the water underneath you was hypnotizing and you felt like you could float there for hours. The more you enjoyed the feeling of being in the water, the more determined you were to get Sylus to join you. It wasn’t likely he would believe you if you pretended to be in danger considering there were no waves and you weren’t a very good actress. Suddenly an idea popped into your head. It was a bit daring and very outside of your comfort zone, but that made it exciting. He may claim to have impressive self-control but you knew that only went so far. This idea would surely do the trick. 

You pushed yourself upright in the water to find Sylus’ eyes still on you from the edge of the yacht. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to get you out here?” You called out. 

“Quite sure, kitten.”

A grin spread across your face, your heartbeat speeding up as you moved to enact your plan. “Not even if I do,” you reach your hand to the back of your neck and pulled on the strings tied in a bow, “this?” Your bikini top fell in front of you, revealing your naked chest to him. You reached behind your back and unhooked the straps there, completely removing the top and holding it up in your hand. “Will you join me now?” You tossed the top forward and it landed with a splash in the water between you and Sylus. 

He suddenly sat up straight from leaning back on his hands and his gentle and amused gaze turned sharp and burning. You could feel his eyes piercing your chest, even from meters away. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” 

“It’s so hot out,” you moved to float on your back once more, your exposed chest fully visible above the water, “I’m just trying to cool down.” 

This earned you a dark chuckled from Sylus and you knew your plan was working. “Okay, kitten,” he stood up on the stairs, “you win.” He slid down into the water and began to swim towards you. With every inch he came closer to you, your heartbeat pounded harder. You thought if it beat any faster it would explode out of your chest. 

On his way towards you he grabbed the stray bikini top floating in the water. When he reached you he grabbed you and pulled you flush to him, your naked chests sliding against each other. You shivered at the contact as he leaned into your ear, “Is this what you wanted?” 

Your eyes fluttered shut. “Yes,” you nodded, “this is what I wanted.” 

“I didn’t realized you were such an exhibitionist.” Sylus lips trailed down your neck, pressing soft kisses into your skin, complaints of the taste of saltwater long forgotten. 

You flicked his shoulder, “I’m not an exhibitionist. I just knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. In fact, you can give me my top back now.” 

You reached behind you to try and grab the top clutched in his hands holding you but he raised his arm in the air, far out of your reach. “Not so fast.” The bikini top dangled above you, “I actually think I’ll hold onto this for the rest of the trip.” 

“You seriously want me to be topless for the rest of the day?” You said incredulously. 

This made Sylus chuckle, “Kitten, that might be the stupidest question you’ve ever asked me.” 

You pushed away from him, “There are other people on the yacht, Sylus. You want all of them to see me naked?” 

“You’re the one who decided to strip out in the open. Why are you getting all shy on me now?” 

You crossed one arm over your chest, “I was just trying to get you to swim with me.” 

Your movement to cover yourself seemed to flip a switch in Sylus, his gaze softening as he closed the distance between you. “Okay, sweetie, I’ll give you your top back. On one condition.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “And that is?” 

“We get out of the water.” 

“Done.” You reached for the top in his hand again. 

“And,” he pulled his hand out of your reach, “we spend the rest of the afternoon in the bedroom.” 

Blush rose in your cheeks, “You’re trying to coerce me into bed with you?” You weren’t serious, of course, but you didn’t want to seem too desperate by blurting out the ‘yes, yes, yes’ that was echoing in your mind. 

“That’s not funny, sweetheart.” Sylus’ tone was serious and you realized what you had implied. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t actually mean that.” You slowly pressed a kiss into his cheek and then onto his lips. “You have yourself a deal,” you whispered. The grin on Sylus’ face mostly held unbridled joy though there was a hint of seduction in his eyes. He handed you your top and helped you tie it tight into place. You swam back to the yacht together, climbing onto the deck, and grabbing towels to dry off. Once you were both sufficiently dry, Sylus grabbed your hand and led you towards the bedroom you had seen on your tour earlier in the afternoon. As your heart beat with anticipation you realized you may be leaving your day of relaxation more exhausted than you had originally planned.

[lakefu]

A Perfect Warmth 🕯️

Summary: Astarion and Tav take a well deserved break away form the chaos of their adventures at an inn inside Baldur's Gate. They need to clean up and get back on the road but they keep getting distracted. Perhaps plans could be delayed for a night of passion...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Tags: 18+, Explicit, fluffy smut, brief Astarion trauma response, PIV, erogenous elf ears, scent kink, blood + biting, a bit of praise, a bit of edging... a sprinkle of cockwarming...., these guys are in love...

Word count: 3.5k Note: This was my first fic originally uploaded on Ao3 on 11/27/23, inspired by the patch #4 dev note mentioning adding sponges to clean your companions. I've made edits from the Ao3 post.

“Remind me to sell this junk next time we pass by a merchant, would you dear?” Astarion was seated at the edge of the bed and rummaging through his traveler’s pack, placing various items on the nightstand for further examination. Two silver forks, an old necklace, and a handful of various polished stones ended up on the table before he plucked out an intricate sapphire ring and held it up to the sunlight peeking through the window.

“Good taste,” he muttered to himself. He placed the ring on his pinky finger in amusement and resumed the scavenge. 

“It’s going to get difficult sneaking up on people if I have to lug this heavy thing around you know.” He threw over a glance at Tav, who was preoccupied with gathering laundry together in preparation for the next day.

“It wouldn’t be so heavy if you didn’t pocket nearly every shiny thing we came across,” she teased, without even looking over at him.

He gasped dramatically. “Framed by my own lover? Quite the scandal. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the near dozen times you’ve asked me to hold onto your things because your own pack was too full.”

“Hmm. Maybe. I guess that might sound sort of familiar…” She giggled to herself and walked into the bedroom to catch his eye, meeting him with a mischievous grin. 

“Why are you such a- oh! Now, what’s this you’re wearing?” Astarion blinked and scanned her up and down, clearly enthralled by the wardrobe change. She stood there in an old linen robe that was yellowed with age, definitely unlike anything he had ever seen her in before.

“Just some old thing I found in the dresser here, isn’t it just fabulous?” Tav's words were dripping in sarcasm and yet she smiled, performing a grandiose little spin in the middle of the room as if she was wearing the most beautiful ball gown in the world.

“I… it’s just so different from your usual armor or that drow nightwear you fancy so much. You look so… domestic.” His eyes were locked onto Tav intensely, with brow furrowed as he seemed to be confused by his own words.

She felt her heart skip a beat and a flush run to her face.

“And you think that’s a good look for me?”

His eyes softened and he paused a moment before quietly answering.

“Yes… I do.”

Tav watched as his smile faded and the gaze of his eyes became increasingly more distant. The atmosphere seemed to shift and a slight panic ran through her body. Did she do something wrong? No... and it didn’t require a tadpole connection to get an understanding for what had brought down his spirits.

Astarion hadn’t considered a comfortable domestic life was possible for someone like him. Even the slightest concept of such a thing had been buried for over a hundred years, and he never expected it to resurface. Was he worthy of such a thing, and was it even possible? 

Oh, it was possible. The evidence was standing right in front of him, spinning circles in an ugly bathrobe. He could see glimpses of a happy future that was so close to being a reality he nearly felt nauseous. Not because he was unsure of himself, but because there were still too many unresolved matters they had a duty to attend to. Too many missions and stupid little quests that could now go wrong and threaten this idea of a happy ending he never even knew was possible.

Everything was different now that he realized what was possible, and he suddenly felt an unknown and uncomfortable pressure. All he knew was that he couldn’t afford to lose in the upcoming battles. Battles that some would say were impossible, suicidal even. The thought of loss at this point was beyond unbearable. It was sickening just to think about.

“Hey!!” Tav ran up to where he was sitting on the bed and took his head in her hands. She placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, knowing she had to get him focused on something else.

“Why don’t we go to the shop right now and get rid of that stuff,” she motioned to the collection of items that had been gathered on the nightstand.

“Wouldn’t hurt to get some more coin in our pockets, right?” She looked at him expectantly and felt a huge relief as a light seemed to return to his eye and meet her view.

“Please tell me you aren’t going to wear that horrid robe to see the merchant,” he sighed and looked up at her pleadingly.

“Of course not!! I’ll change and- oh gods!!! We’ve got to get this blood off your face, the merchant is going to think we are trying to kill him!” Tav exclaimed as she lightly shook his shoulders, and quickly began examining his body to see how much cleaning would have to get done before they could leave.

“Blood… on my face?” He raised an eyebrow and brought a finger to his cheek.

“Yeah!! Well, it’s all over you really, dontcha remember earlier today, fighting those cultists?? You sneaked up behind one of ‘em and BAM!!! Just obliterated with a single strike, it was amazing!! You’re so strong…you know.” Her pulse was racing at the mere memory of the event as she delicately traced the side of his face with her fingers and ventured down to his chest. 

“Ah of course. That was all so terribly easy I’d nearly forgotten,” he said proudly, adjusting his posture and keeping his eyes on Tav’s hand movements sliding across his chest. Her soft touch was becoming more firm as her fingers made their way toward his arms, giving his biceps a teasing squeeze before leaning her face into his and teasing a kiss.

Before their lips could touch, Astarion wags a finger in between their faces as if to remind Tav of the task at hand.

“Alright my sweet, let’s clean up shall we? You’re my mirror after all. So, go on then.” He took her hands into his own and gave them a kiss before placing them back at her side, encouraging her to go and gather whatever it was she needed to get him cleaned up.

Right, the supplies. It was nearly impossible to remain focused after moments of intimacy with him, no matter how brief they were. She quickly moved into the other room to acquire the washcloths and bucket of soapy water that she was using for herself not too long ago. Hands full, she scurried back to the bedroom to meet her lover, who hadn’t moved an inch.

As she approached him, Tav could feel the tie on her robe becoming increasingly more loose with each step that was taken across the floor. The embarrassment hit her as she realized she didn't have any hands free to do anything about it. She quickly tried to put the bucket down by the bedside, but the bending movement only resulted in the robe slipping off one of her shoulders, exposing a bare breast.

“Oh? You haven’t got anything on underneath?” Astarion cocked his head in amusement, eyes unmoving from the newly exposed skin.

“Ye-yeah that’s the whole point of robes isn’t it? I was doing laundry earlier ya know and umm,” She laughed nervously and started to fix the wardrobe malfunction but was quickly stopped by a hand over her own. Astarion reached out toward her until both hands were around her waist and pulled her in close to his body. Fangs were peeking through his devious smile while determined eyes looked her up and down. With a singular finger he crept over to the loose knot of the robe’s tie and flicked it completely undone with one swift movement.

Tav shuddered and felt her body starting to run warm despite now being suddenly exposed to the cool air of the inn. She was completely revealed to him now, the robe only just clinging to her arms and draped across her backside.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he sighed and began kissing her stomach and caressing the curves of her waist. “Come here.”

Tav gasped as she felt his cold grip around her waist tighten as he expertly lifted her up onto his lap with ease. Pleased at the new angle, Astarion shifted his attention to kissing the crook of her neck and started moving down her chest. He delightfully found her nipple with his mouth in no time, and teased it in circles with his tongue just as he knew she liked it. His gentle sucking continued for only a few brief moments before he suddenly withdrew and cleared his throat.

“Ah, well. You can reach my face better up here I’m sure. For the cleaning of course,” he said smugly. The elf leaned back and admired the view of his lover, nude and flustered, perched oh-so perfectly on top of him.

“The cleaning…” Tav nodded and remembered she still had a warm and soapy washcloth in her hand. The urge to throw the stupid cloth into some unknown corner of the room was nearly undeniable. All she wanted in this moment was for him to take her completely, in any way he wanted, it didn’t matter as long as she ended up getting fucked into oblivion. So fine. On with the cleaning.

She raised the washcloth to his temple and slowly began to wipe away the dried blood by working down his face. His cheeks were a bit sunken as usual but flushed adorably in this moment, clearly enjoying the tender rubs of cloth on his skin. She continued rubbing down toward his chiseled jawline, across to his lips, and back up the other side to repeat the process once more. She ran her fingers through his silver curls and noticed his ears would need cleaning too. 

One hand caressed the pointy ear to keep it in place and the other brought the washcloth in for a gentle scrub. A quiet moan suddenly escaped the vampire’s lips.

Oh? She had seemingly discovered a sensitive spot and noted that she would have to continue her work carefully. The scrubbing continued but Tav couldn’t keep her eyes off his face now. His eyes were closed but still noticeably moving behind their lids, and his lips were slightly parted with his breathing becoming increasingly heavier and more noticeable. 

Astarion was in his own world of pleasure. What in the hells had he been doing these past weeks, aimlessly scrubbing himself clean alone in the river when they could have been doing this the whole time instead?

He opened his eyes just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. She was still there of course, diligently and lovingly taking such good care of his body. A wave of maddening lust rushed through his core and he needed her closer. He needed her as close as physically possible and even more so after that.

Their eyes met, revealing intense desires. Tav lowered her hands and she spoke slowly, “Can you take your shirt off? There’s a spot I can’t get to with it on…” 

She wasn’t fooling anybody, but he obeyed without hesitation. The shirt was gone in seconds, revealing his pale and perfectly sculpted chest. It was a sight that Tav never tired of admiring, and was in fact the subject of distracting daydreams on the daily. She shifted her body closer to his and continued scrubbing his neck and chest, despite it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus. Deep breaths.

She had always been fond of his cologne that he was quite proud of concocting himself. The scent of aged brandy, bergamot, and rosemary was now forever an Astarion specialty that she could never forget. Even during times of battle or travel, a gust of wind could carry his essence to her and bring along with it a sense of reassuring familiarity. As she continued to wipe him down, however, a different scent began to come to the forefront.

It was something that did not seem completely foreign, but it wasn't immediately identifiable either. There was something about taking it all in that felt forbidden. Tav tried to pinpoint what she was experiencing. He smelled earthy… raw… unnatural… it was without a doubt, the undeath.

An undeniable heat rose through her body as she engulfed herself with this pure scent from her lover. The washcloth, the bed, the entire room seemed miles away, and nothing felt coherent except for a craving to be even closer to him. Nothing else existed except their bodies and her overwhelming desire to-

“Eager, are we?” A sultry voice snapped her back into reality, where piercing red eyes amusingly greeted her return. She suddenly became aware of a presence between her thighs and glanced down, realizing she was sitting atop a clothed bulge. His hands had a firm grip on her backside and his encouraging movements made it clear she had been absentmindedly grinding on him during her trance. 

“Shit, I got carried away…” She hadn’t taken her eyes off his crotch and began to notice that her excitement had left a dampness on his clothes. Embarrassment nearly overtook her, but a gentle yet confident hand grabbed her chin and brought it up to meet his gaze. He leaned into her with a grinning open mouth and kissed her passionately, tongues intertwining.

She felt his fangs briefly scrape against her tongue every so often until a metallic taste became increasingly noticeable. She didn't mind the blood, especially since it seemed to enhance his arousal as noted by his hips continuously jolting faster up into her exposed crotch. Tav was soon pleasantly overwhelmed between his deep kisses and desperate hands groping her at every curve of her body. She longed to give him everything; her blood for his hunger, her body for his pleasure. 

Tav released herself from the kiss they had been locked into and tilted her head so that her neck became exposed as an undeniable gift. His mouth lunged at the presented spot as soon as it was noticed, fangs immediately sinking in deep. Tav cried out at the initial impact but soon was reveling in the experience. It was a perfect mixture of pain and pleasure that she was only capable of experiencing from him.

He remained on her neck for a while, still tightly holding on to her body and keeping one hand free to reassuringly caress the back of her head. It was only after the blood flow slowed to a near stop did he cease his medley of licking and sucking at the wound. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his exposed chest, but he was ultimately unfazed. He leaned back, clearly happy and mostly satisfied, but there was still a different type of satisfaction he had left to chase.

Astarion's throbbing erection was begging to be released from its clothed restraints. He quickly untied his pants and shifted his underwear to finally free it. He moaned a few incomprehensible words of relief and stroked himself a few times before looking up at Tav for approval.

Tav had been staring at his length from the moment it was exposed, an impressive size for an elf, no doubt. Her eyes fixated on his perfectly pink tip, glistening with precum just for her. She immediately fantasized of shoving him down her throat until she choked and cried, but that was a fantasy for another day. In their current position, they both knew there was only one simple way of how to continue.

“Astarion,” she whimpered. “Fuck me.”

Tav sat up on her knees and positioned herself so that her entrance was just nearly grazing the head of his dick, ready to take him in completely at any moment. She grabbed ahold of his shaft and guided the tip back and forth through her folds until he was covered in her slick. The new sensation of the friction between them left them both gasping and desperate for more.

Suddenly, finally, his arms wrapped around her body as he pulled her down onto him with one firm motion. Astarion grunted through his teeth while Tav moaned unapologetically, focusing on relaxing enough to allow her body to adjust to his length inside of her. 

The temperature differences between their bodies only heightened the feelings of pleasure whenever they became one. Her warmness was intoxicating to him, granting a sense of safety and bliss that was impossible to achieve anywhere else. He was already so close to the edge in this moment, but was not ready to give in just yet. He wanted this moment of heaven to last as long as possible.

Meanwhile, Tav was having the time of her life riding her man like there was no tomorrow. She had no intent to slow down until a pair of large hands suddenly gripped her hips in a way that prevented any further movement.

“I’m not done with you yet, love. Didn’t you notice the mess I’ve made after feasting on you?” Astarion took a finger to his chin and smeared a bit of Tav’s fresh blood down his neck.

It was true, he had made a mess. Quite uncharacteristically of him in fact. Tav had assumed he had simply gotten careless in his horny and feral craze but no- it was clearly all calculated. 

“Just be still and sit nice and pretty on my cock. Finish the cleaning, then I’ll take care of you myself. How does that sound?” 

How does that sound? His words echoed in her head, which was already spinning plenty enough as it was. She was unsure if it was from the blood loss or her seemingly never ending carnal desires, but perhaps it was both. One thing was certain, however, he could convince her to do damn near anything speaking in that low and lustful tone of his. Without uttering a word she slowly brought the washcloth up to his chest. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. He felt her body twitch around him in response to the praise, and he leaned back to relax and enjoy these final few moments of intimacy. 

It had taken everything in Tav's power to remain still while she worked. It wasn't exactly easy to focus- she was being split in half by a whimpering vampire beneath her after all. Astarion’s skilled fingers had been dancing around her swollen clit the whole time, just enough to keep her stimulated but never enough to let her come.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blood was all cleaned up. She hadn't even realized when it happened or how he did it, but his pants were completely gone now. She reached over to place the cloth down and awaited her reward of sweet release.

Astarion’s hands moved to the knees that were straddling him and slowly pushed them farther apart, spreading Tav’s legs open bit by bit. She inhaled sharply as she took him in deeper. He opened her up more and more until she lost her balance and fell backwards onto his expectant embrace. 

“Relax darling, I’ve got you,” He purred in reassurance. 

Astarion took her entire weight in his arms with ease and laid her down amongst the soft pillows of the bed. He nestled himself comfortably between her legs, making sure their bodies were flush with one another. Nearly smothered by his body now, all Tav could do was claw at his back and arch her hips into his powerful thrusts. His mouth frantically traveled across her lips and neck with desperately wet kisses until he settled near her ear with a playful nibble.

“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered tenderly, while the rhythm of his lovemaking became increasingly sporadic. “So fucking perfect… Gods…just for me… I love you… so much...”

“Star, I- ah!” Her words cut short as she felt something snap within her. Pure ecstasy- she was falling and flying somewhere a million galaxies away and never wanted to come back. Obscene noises and curses filled the room as they rode out each other’s high in tight embrace. The smell of sex lingered in the air as their bodies heaved with labored breaths, finally collapsing on each other in exhaustion. 

They laid together a while longer, exchanging soft kisses and enjoying the short moment in time where nothing else in the world mattered. Eventually, Astarion rolled out of the bed and stood up to stretch. 

“Tsk, looks like it’s my turn to clean you up my dear,” He said with an accomplished grin, eying how her thighs were dripping with his sticky mess.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move an inch. Actually, I doubt you can move at all after that, ahaha!” He laughed and leaned over to brush aside a strand of Tav’s sweaty hair that was stuck to her forehead before walking over to the other room. 

“Shut up… dummy…” she smiled to herself and rolled over, feeling at ease enough that the weight of sleep was starting to overtake her.

“I love you too, Astarion.” Her eyes closed as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that her lover would soon come back to her side like he always did, and always would.

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 7

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Angst, Predator/Prey

TW: Trauma, Implied Sexual Harassment, Implied Sexual Assault, Guns, Mentions of Violence

Chapter Summary: The trees have fully shed their leaves, a sign to a new season and with that, he gives in to one of your little favors, no matter how peculiar the reasons behind them.

Author's Note: Life has been long! Finally got new batteries for my pen so I am off to drawing a fanart for this on top of the drawings I actually need to do. Enjoy the chapter!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

7: My Dearest, Troubled

The tree in front of your shop has lost most of its leaves, a herald to autumn finally coming to an end and a new season arriving.

“Close the shop?”, you asked, confused while you watch your father put on his coat.

“Take it slow for today, twig,” your father smiled, giving himself a once over. The last train station to the city from N109 zone this morning would leave in an hour and he has to catch it to go to the hospital. “You had a long day yesterday.”

“But why?”

“You’re already ahead of schedule. You might crash out if you do too much.”

“Alright but just today though. Mister Sewing Machine wouldn’t like it if I am gone too long.”

“Mister Sewing Machine will understand, twig,” your father replied, amused at how you treat every item inside your studio as if it is a living thing but it makes sense, he did raise you to look after and take good care of the objects that ensure your livelihood.

“Daisy and I will hold the fort then!”, you answered cheerfully and your crow friend also let out a beep.

Your father smiled at you and briefly glanced at the crow who always used your antlers at a perch. Most of Sylus’ business associates had expressed unease towards this odd friend of yours who always quietly assesses them every time they converse with you in your studio.

Every word this mechanical crow hears will also reach Sylus’ ears.

He wouldn’t deny that he used to be also uncomfortable under its observant gaze.

Yet, with time comes familiarity and your father admitted to himself last night that Sylus proved to be a gentleman around you, completely different to how the people around him paint him to be, especially when he watched the dragon hybrid carry you upstairs as if you are the most fragile treasure he ever held.

That dragon isn’t as bad as people claimed and you were the first person to see past rumors and his rough exterior. 

Your father, the first person you managed to convince.

Still, he still can’t help but worry about this recent development. He is sure word has spread fast after hearing from neighbors that Sylus had taken a time-off yesterday just for you.

Which is in fact, a very, very rare occurrence.

“Twig, one last thing,” he said slowly, and he looked at your crow friend then back at you, holding both of your arms gently, “Just in case. I put Mister Louis’-”, he took a deep breath then continued, “- gift at the first drawer of the front desk.”

With Sylus’ watchful eyes, your father knows that no one would dare try to come near you with any malicious intent and he doesn’t doubt that the dragon hybrid would be here before anything bad happens.

But it will only just take a few seconds before something irreversible happens.

You looked down on your shoes and he grimaced. He knows you tend to be very touchy at the subject, initially very apprehensive on the thought behind the present and the implication of the words that the young deer hybrid left. 

Louis, despite his wealthy upbringing, tends to be too straightforward, too protective of the other prey hybrids that settled in this area and your father knows Louis left the same gift to other households.

“Skye isn’t a bad person-”

“I know he isn’t. I have complete faith in him.”

“Then why do we still keep it?”

“I have no doubts about your favorite visitor, twig,” he insisted gently, hoping to correct the assumptions already forming in your head, “But he is a very influential man.”

And many people would do anything to snatch the crown from its bearer.

The gaze of your crow friend is heavy but your father maintained his eyes towards you until you nodded slowly, “Okay, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Your father let out a  sigh of relief, letting go of you, then patting your shoulder.

“I’ll catch the first train on the way back then we will have dinner together, is that good?”

“Alright, can you bring me something from the bakery when you get back?”

“Your favorite?”

You nodded and your father ruffled your hair before stepping out, making sure the sign says ‘Closed’.

It is not the first time your father left you by your lonesome here in the shop and usually, sewing keeps you preoccupied that you don’t even notice he is gone but his simple request of taking a break is quite foreign.

“What do you do when you are taking breaks, Daisy?”, you asked your crow friend who is busy preening the braid on the side of your face.

Mephisto tilted its head and if you can understand it, it is telling you right now that visiting you is break time, a privilege it takes advantage of too often.

“Organize your treasures?”

That is usually scheduled at the end of the month so again, it shakes its head.

“Catch up with your crow friends?”

Mephisto decided to not do that for now, especially when the largest crow in the group tried to pull the ribbon you made for it off its neck.

“Do you clean your nest?” 

It knows it has to give you an answer because you will keep asking, not that it minds.

So, Mephisto nods.

“Really now? I do enjoy looking after the house as well,” you smiled, folding your sleeves until your shoulders and putting your hair up. “Where should we start?”

You follow Mephisto, carrying a broom and laughing gently when it leads you to your studio, perching at the handle while it waits for you to give your verdict on its choice.

“Am I that messy, Daisy?”

It lets out a beep, which you took as a yes, and then opened the door.

“You are a very honest crow,” you chuckled and Mephisto wagged its tail.

It doesn’t think you are messy, no, not at all. It is because out of all the rooms inside your shop, this is where you and it spends time the most.

It only makes sense that you both start cleaning its nest first.

────────────────────

Sylus woke up earlier than expected, mostly because he is looking forward to checking if you managed to pick up the hint he left last night.

The chimes at the entrance of your shop announced his entry and while he didn’t expect you to come and greet him, he certainly did not expect your studio to be empty.

Boxes are scattered around, clearly a sign you are in the middle of organizing fabrics and sewing materials. Spools of threads in the middle of being shifted and arranged from darkest to lightest, assortment of buttons that got lost are reunited one by one to their siblings. 

It was clear you are doing a quick sweep, a break, he assumed, but where are you?

“Sweetie?”, he called out.

There was no response except for a chirp.

It was Mephisto, diligently lifting blankets that covered the mannequins one by one as if looking for someone.

Or, looking for you.

It only took him moments to realize that in the middle of cleaning up, you and Mephisto had your attention diverted and now playing a game of hide and seek.

What even made it more amusing is you don’t know there is a new player joining in. For now.

“Where is she?”, he asked, watching as Mephisto perched on his shoulder and tilted its head, as if repeating the same question he asked albeit sarcastically.

If crows can shrug, Mephisto certainly did but it knows you haven’t stepped outside the shop, a rule both of you set before starting the game.

“Electric wires that connect the shop to the grid are not a hiding place!”, you quickly added earlier before running away when Mephisto started chirping with pause in between, a countdown.

Sylus rolled his eyes. Of course, he can immediately find where you are. He just had to shift through the scents, old and new, that lingered on your shop and follow it but where is the fun in that?

“No hints?”

Mephisto shook its head.

Sylus heard a giggle from behind him, the scent of cotton and wildflowers that is unmistakably yours hung briefly in the air but then faded away together with your soft footsteps padding further from him.

You already know he is here through the gap of the half-opened studio door.

Smart girl.

The familiar click of the heels of your shoes are gone, clearly having taken them off and carried them to not make a noise.

“Now, miss seamstress, is this how you welcome a new player in your game?”, he called out, making sure his voice was carried from your studio to every room of your house until to the very corners and crevices you may have thought were safe hiding spots.

Of course, Sylus did not expect you to reply but he took his time, walking casually and aimlessly at items that decorated your home, making sure his footsteps are loud.

Each step calculated, a movement under the pretense he is exploring rather than actively searching for you. He doesn’t have to close his eyes to know you clearly climbed up the stairs, hearing you gasp softly when you accidentally stepped on the fifth step that always creaked.

“I am starting to think you don’t actually want me to find you, sweetheart.”

Every living thing emits a certain scent when being hunted down and prey hybrids have the most potent ones but there is not even a trace of it in you.

In fact, Sylus can only pick up excitement.

Anticipation.

You are clearly happy he still came over to visit you even when you and him had spent the entire day together yesterday.

You can’t help but smile when you peeked from the second floor and saw the tip of Skye’s tail passing by. Daisy glanced up but you put a finger on your lips, a gesture that it is you and your crow friend against the dragon hybrid.

Will Mephisto choose you over Sylus any day? An absurd question.

It decided to buy more time for you, flying towards the receiving area, pretending to check if you were under the front desk.

“You’re a little traitor, do you know that?”, Sylus chuckled, crossing his arms while Mephisto feigned indifference.

The bird is clearly siding with you, he already knows when Mephisto’s gaze lingered on the top of the steps for a second too long.

One of the doors upstairs bang loudly followed by another carefully opened, a clear misdirection.

Daisy can only buy you a little time and you know Skye is bound to find you soon.

Predator hybrids have outstanding senses, that’s what you were told by others. They can hear the beating of your heart. They do not need your name, your scent alone is already a unique identifier.

You haven’t really asked Skye how true it is, if you already lost the game the moment he stepped inside your home but you don’t care much how different you both are, if he already had the edge between the two of you.

In this little corner of the N109 zone, all the rules your kind had imposed upon you are forgotten.

You held your knees close to your chest inside the floor of the cabinet, your ears twitching and listening to his footsteps. The fifth stepped creak and and his silhouette passed by briefly  to your room only for it to return immediately after checking your father’s room.

“I know you’re in there, sweetheart.”

You put your hands on your mouth, stifling your giggles.

“I’ll give you a headstart to change your hiding spot before I come in, darling deer.”

There was no sound, no movement. You stayed where you are and if that’s your decision, then Sylus would take it.

Every person in every room Sylus steps inside would immediately avert their eyes to avoid his gaze but there will always be a handful who will lock eyes with him with subtle defiance and Sylus would always pick up the scent of fear, even the slightest ounce.

Narrow it down further and among the handful, there is only person that will meet his eyes, a vast ocean he will always come back to.

And that person is-

“Found you.”

The cabinet door opened, and there you were, hugging your knees and a shy smile on your lips as you looked up at him.

“Hello, Skye.”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He crouched down to your height, slowly reaching out to you to play with the small braid on the side of your face and his eyes flickered on one of your antlers.

Tied around it is the red good luck ribbon he had left last night.

You leaned towards his hand, smiling.

“How did you find me, Mister Dragon?”

“I’ll always find you, Miss Deer.”

────────────────────

At first, you find Mister Louis quite rude.

You don’t have to open his gift to know what is inside. Everyone who enters your studio just to watch you always carries one of various sizes.

They usually keep it hidden behind their coats while others carry suspiciously long boxes, the wooden floor creaking every time they put it down on their feet before looking around your studio, making conversation with you.

Cold. Heavy. Powerful.

You only get to hold one when the twins come over, Luke carrying a rifle and Kieran, its case. They let you take a peek at the scope once when they saw two rival groups about to tear each other’s throats just past the boundaries set by the boss himself to all the denizens of the N109 zone.

“Have you ever held one before, Miss Deer?”

Kieran asked you before, noticing your fascination when they let you examine the rifle, making sure the safety is on.

You shook your head, focused on the little fight that was about to unfold between Mister Louis’ pride of lion hybrids and a pack of wolf hybrids.

The two chuckled, their tails wagging.

“I don’t think the miss needs to. She already has us and the boss looking after her.”

They never referred to Skye using his real name.

They always call him ‘boss’.

The distant gunshots rattled the utensils you have brought with your favorite visitor upstairs in the small rooftop garden you keep, the tea making small waves against the walls of your porcelain cups.

“It looks like the neighbors are being rowdy today, Skye,” you chuckled softly but Sylus did not miss the slight tremble when you took a piece of your favorite cake.

The entirety of N109 zone isn’t paradise, that Sylus knows.

Yet, he is very specific to everyone living here to not even dare cause not even a single ruckus within 500 meters of your shop.

“They just don’t know how to behave, do they?”, he mused, adding more strawberry macarons on your plate.

Your eyes fell on his hands. It was clear that he is familiar with defending himself using his fists. His hands were rough, the skin on his knuckles stretched tight against the bone.

As always, he checks the cut on your finger and your eyes trace the calluses on his palm and the finger he uses to pull the trigger.

With his pointed horns, a powerful tail, and senses so sharp, he doesn’t have to worry much about anyone hurting him.

“I have a request,” you started slowly, your eyes watching the last leaf of the tree land on your tea, floating quietly.

You have always welcomed each season with open arms but the end of autumn means it will only be weeks until you say goodbye to your antlers.

With them gone comes the feeling of defenselessness, of terror, and each distant gunshot reminds you that your kind-

-Really is pitiful.

“What is it that my sweetheart wishes for?”

“You can turn me down, alright?”

“Let me hear you out first, miss seamstress, then I’ll make the call.”

“I want to learn how to shoot,” you replied, and you immediately averted your gaze, looking down at your lap.

You know he uses one but he always keeps it on his back, covered by the coat he hangs on his shoulder but you always spot it when he shifts closer to you to study your work.

Sylus was expecting you to bring up your many plans of tying bows on his horns and tails but certainly not this. He had always told himself you don’t need to wield a weapon. Not because he thinks you are completely fragile but because holding one means you are pointing it to another person.

Your hands, they weren’t made to destroy.

They were meant to create.

“That’s not a small request, little doe, are you sure?”

“If it is fine with you?”

“Why do you want to learn, sweetie?”

“I am going to lose my antlers soon,” you admitted sadly, your ears drooping and Sylus’ gaze softened when he realized the cause of your anxiety.

The red ribbon tied on your antler sway gently against the autumn breeze together with the good luck ribbon on his horn.

It is hard to say no when his favorite deer is looking at him as if he ate her last macaron.

Sylus already knows he is a goner.

Still, he relished that you chose to ask him this favor over Luke and Kieran and he chuckled, his resolve gone.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, do you know that, sweetie?”

You know Skye’s services do not come cheap. He already did so much for you, carrying favors and messages so it is only fair you compensate him just as before when he helped you.

“Here,” you said, tapping your right cheek, “My downpayment.”

“You’re quite a charmer, aren’t you, little doe,” he whispered, reaching out to lean closer to you then pressed his lips on your cheek.

If Sylus has it his way, he would be demanding more, to shower you kisses. Will you be blushing madly when he does? Or will you just laugh and tell him he missed a spot?

As much as he wants his answers to those questions that come while he waits for sleep to come, he will take what he can have right now as long as it is from you.

“Downpayment received,” he murmured softly in your ear and you caught the red tints of his ears.

Among the quiet rustling of the dried leaves on the floor of your garden and the sounds of ceramic pots and bottles being lined up, he can only hope that his wishes carried by the autumn breeze will be heard.

────────────────────

Daisy gave you another reassuring nuzzle on your cheek, sensing your frustration and embarrassment.

Sylus knows you are clearly upset and he knows exactly why.

Thirty bullets in and your chances of hitting a target should be at least greater than before but every time you pull a trigger, it is as if the bullet ricochets itself and hits the wall.

Is this the universe's way of telling him that his precious deer shouldn’t wield a firearm? He is starting to think it is.

“Skye, they kept missing,” you sighed, your ears drooping, and he had to stifle a chuckle because even with tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you just look so adorable.

“Sweetie, it takes time handling a firearm,” he began, stepping closer with his thumb wiping a tear on the corner of your eye, “Just like when you were learning how to use your sewing needles.”

“Did it also take you years to learn how to use them?”

“Not years but it took practice and patience.”

“Don’t rush it, sweetie,” he murmured against your ear, standing behind you, his chest brushing against your back, “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

One.

An erratic heartbeat.

It isn’t the quiet and steady rhythm you have. A tune trying to sync itself against the conductor’s lead but ahead by one note.

“Breathe for me,” he said quietly and your ears brushed his cheek, flicking. Your shoulders relaxed against him followed by a sharp intake of breath, an attempt to match the cadence of his heart.

Two.

Trembling hands.

The gun, a foreign object, your body’s natural reaction to push it away from you but your determination supersedes, holding on.

“Eyes forward,” Sylus continued, his warm breath fanning against your neck, soft but firm. His other hand moved from your waist to grip your wrist, a stable guide. 

Three.

Shaky aim.

Every time you pull the trigger, the close sounds of the gun unloading startles you. The sound, much different, compared to the distant firing of the rowdy citizens of the N109 zone. Your deer instinct takes precedence over everything, telling you to flee.

“Ignore everything else.”

His hand holding your wrist rested on top of yours, his finger on the trigger with you. His voice a low, soothing rumble as he rested his chin against your shoulder.

You are as much a human as you are a deer.

The last bullet inside the firearm discharged, the golden casing shining against the afternoon sun until it finally met its target, the pieces of the old ceramic pot shattering.

Sylus was watching you closely, your stunned expression of finally hitting one of the targets both of you set up slowly replaced by a wide smile, relief and triumph.

Victory . 

A small one but a victory nonetheless.

“That’s my girl,” he praised you, his hands moving around your waist to pull you closer against his chest.

“Did you see that, Skye?”, you asked, looking up at him, your nose brushing against his in the process.

“I did, sweetheart, I did.”

“You’re a good teacher.”

“And I have a willing student.”

“I supposed I should pay you in full now for the lesson,” you smiled, then pointing at your right cheek, “Here.”

Sylus is sure the twins and even Mephisto had a hand at this. The three of them most likely made you assume that little favors are to be paid by hugs and kisses, always seeking affection from you just like he does.

Unbelievable but it worked.

He chuckled softly, his lips hovering just above your skin before he planted a lingering kiss on the spot you pointed.

“Payment accepted, sweetie.”

Sylus had already given himself the role to be your protector and he knows what it takes to be one.

To you, he is your dragon, always yearning for your touch, content.

To others, he is the big, bad and will always be bad dragon and if he has to take, bite, and claw at every single being that is a threat to your small forest, then so be it.

────────────────────

Evening comes by too fast, the breeze entering the open windows of your shop becoming colder and stronger and you know it is time for your favorite visitor to go when he glances at his watch and lets out a heavy sigh.

The passage of time always picks up speed every time he is here and his shoulder slumps just slightly when he sets one of the boxes he is helping you move on one of the tables.

“Duty calls?”, you asked, his frown turning to a smile when you peek to check on him.

He nodded, “It’s time for me to go.”

You observed him thoughtfully, studying him and your eyes lingered on his watch, a new one, clearly expensive. He always wears a different one every time he comes over.

There is a question that you put at the back of your head when morning came where you were met with an unexpected surprise after you removed the wreath that Skye made for you.

“What is it like to be Mr. Sylus’ bodyguard?”, you asked, accompanying him to the door of your shop.

“It’s a demanding job but it pays well.”

“Does it also include making sure that not a lot of people know what Mr. Sylus looks like?”

“That’s one of the job requirements, sweetie.”

“If I tell you I now know what he looks like, what would you do?”, you asked, tilting your head with a knowing smile.

Who would have thought a little hint is all you need to piece together who is the man in front of you?

This is the face of someone close to solving a puzzle, a breakthrough. You have a question in your mind slowly taking shape.

All Sylus needs now is for the words to come from your lips.

A confirmation and there is only one correct answer.

“That depends, sweetie. Prove it to me and I’ll take you to him,” he replied playfully.

“You will?”, you asked, wagging your tail, “Really?”

“Really,” he affirmed, and his tail flicked in excitement, “We’ll go straight to the base if you give me the right answer.”

You paused for a moment, your eyes looking at your shoes and the dusty clothes you are wearing then you chuckled softly, “Tomorrow. I want to look my best when we meet Mr. Sylus.”

You want to doll up for him.

You want to be presentable.

He wanted to tell you that you don’t need to, that all he needs is for you to call him by his real name.

“You already look cute just the way you are, if you ask me,” he said, pinching your cheek one last time before opening the door and he was about to step out when you reached out to hold the end of his coat hanging on his shoulders.

“Miss me already, sweetie? Don’t we have an appointment set tomorrow?”

“You forgot something.”

“Did I?”, Sylus answered, a slow smile spreading on his face while he pretended to pat his pockets and scan his clothes, “I supposed I did.”

Late autumn. 

His car parked just outside your shop at the front in this corner of the N109 zone while the lone tree standing tall near the curb had finally completely shed its leaves. Your wool cardigan rustles gently, the wooden floor creaking when you stand on your tiptoes.

This time, your lips finally hit the mark, right on his cheek. 

A small noise, he doesn’t know if it is his, yours, or maybe both but it is clear that it is for your ears and his only, an intangible treasure, a song that will always play in repeat, forever sought.

Small memories, so small, but even then, all the precious gems are.

After he waved goodbye, Sylus had tucked the stray leaf on the dashboard of his car that day.

Tomorrow can’t come any sooner.

────────────────────

A classical tune filled the room, the papers and record books shuffling while you pile them up together for your father who is running late.

Your eyes occasionally land on the door, hoping you will see the familiar antlers and the package from your favorite bakery that makes the best strawberry shortcake, a little treat he promised from earlier and also, most likely to make up with you..

The chimes rang.

“Welcome home-”

“I always loved those antlers of yours, branches.”

Every part of your body froze, and your wool cardigan suddenly was not enough to keep you warm.

How long was it when you heard that voice? Your mind was close to putting a number to the distance you and your father had put between that voice but before you could even come up with an answer, you stopped.

Every cell that makes you up refuses to acknowledge his presence, no, his existence .

There is no person in front of you, the chimes did not announce a visitor. Maybe it did not ring at all and it is just you and Daisy in this shop, waiting for your father’s return.

But there is.

He is a human, that one you are sure. 

No tail.

No horns.

Normal ears. 

His voice?

A broken record, too many scratches but it still plays a distorted song, the lyrics a horrid amalgamation of disjointed tracks.

His face? 

A mess of black threads all tied against each other, there is no way to tell where it began and it started. It is as if they have been there ever since and will always be there.

“Who would have thought that the deer Sylus is keeping for himself is you? I have been looking for you everywhere.”

One.

Two.

Three. 

Three strides. It also takes him the same number of steps from the store front of your old shop to stand beside you in the front desk when you used to be the one greeting customers.

You keep your eyes on your shoes, your hands behind your back and even when you try to move at least an inch, your body refuses.

Deers must stay still under the gaze of a predator.

An actual predator.

Humans. 

Predator hybrids. 

Prey hybrids.

Put all three of it in a diagram and you will find that you are as much as capable of harming each other.

The only question is- Will you?

Can you?

“It looks like he knows how to look after livestock,” the human continued, and your lips trembled when his breath was a little closer to your neck.

His name? What was his name?

Your mind refuses to cooperate. Do not put a name on this tangled mess of black threads that he calls a face.

Names only make them more real.

How does it even speak? No, there is certainly a face underneath it but if you even try to pull a loose thread, it will only just unravel itself further.

You might get caught in it too if you do.

“Lost your voice? But you were just talking to Sylus earlier,” he prodded further and your gaze moved from your feet to the drawer of the front desk. “Gave him a kiss too.”

Breathe for me.

Skye’s words echoed and his voice, always so gentle, is now distant.

“Too bad your little league isn’t here anymore,” the human continued then he gazed at the crow.

He clearly recognized this one. Its appearance is the reason why Sylus suddenly left a very important negotiation back then and who would have known, that beast really does keep an eye over you.

Oh, you aren’t Sylus’ emergency ration. 

Not a feast either. 

You are so much more to that dragon, alright.

Sylus is going to regret crossing a human.

────────────────────

“Hey boss, the packages have arrived.”

The twins weave their way towards him through the maze of boxes and crates scattered inside the main hallway of the base and more are waiting to be brought in outside the double doors of his home.

Weapons.

Experimental drugs.

Documents.

The whole nine yards, waiting to be opened by him one by one and all of it will fetch a hefty sum as long as it is sold to the most eager buyer.

Who would have known he will be doing a similar clean-up here at the base as well?

“Let’s get started. Time is money.”

It was the usual routine, Luke will hand him a package to open while Kieran continues to put everything inside.

The blade cuts across the tape holding the flaps and each item inside promising.

Sylus always notes the senders, these are from business associates after all. How the product performs is a test, an evaluation to know if the venture is a worthy pursuit or not.

“Say, boss, I thought you had that group blacklisted,” Kieran said slowly, approaching his desk and carrying a box.

A cardboard box. 

No sender details.

Yet, it was faint, very faint, but Sylus knows why Kieran asked.

The box holds a faint stench of the black market that deals with prey hybrid meat.

“I did,” he frowned. He was clear to those sick bastards he had no intentions of dealing with their wares, “Open it.”

“I wonder if they are sending those vials again. That was creepy,” Luke said, standing closer to Kieran while he watched his brother rip the old parchment paper wrapping the box.

“Or those horns. That was nasty.”

“Or a bomb.”

“What? Nah, this box has been sitting outside for a while.”

“Let’s get this over,” Sylus said, sighing heavily, already thinking how he would dispose of these ‘samples’ as those people called it.

Sylus has always been decisive when giving orders and every decision comes with consequences, both good and bad.

Yet, there are many times that the universe is quick to remind him that he isn’t invincible as he thinks he is even if it gifted him the prowess to assert his claim against those who stand his way.

And right now, the universe is pointing at a chink on his scales.

Pictures.

The box is full of photos of you, all circled with a red marker. 

His eyes traced the antlers decorated with threads, then at the crown of flowers and finally-

-At the glassy eyes of a taxidermized head of a deer resting on the white linen holding a note in its mouth.

And it says-

“Boss?”, Luke said slowly.

“Boss, what does it say?”, Kieran asked, the usual calmness in his voice slowly overcome by nervousness.

Pretty little deer.

Sylus had never been much dependent on fate. Every action is calculated, all variables considered and every odds must be in his favor.

But tonight, when he and the twins raced back to your shop, never he expected the day would come his car would roar on the highway as he stepped on the accelerator.

Let this be a sick prank.

Let this be an empty threat.

Let this be a cruel joke.

.

.

.

God, please.

────────────────────

Author's Note:

Do you know that part in the rollercoaster before you plunge at the speed of 80kph or more? Yeah, this chapter is that chapter. See you next Thursday!

My inbox is open~ (If you wanted to be mutuals, I will be happy!) I am still navigating how fandom etiquette is since it is my first time being active in one here in Tumblr.

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[teastainedprose]

Too Sweet - Ch. 1 (Cooper Howard x Reader)

A settler selling wares in Filly catches The Ghoul's eye. Inspired by a Tumblr post asking for an angst fic to Hozier's Too Sweet. 1,753 words | [AO3] No warnings yet, only innocent flirting. Banner from @eupheme

The first time he spots you, Cooper thinks nothing of it. Sure, you look a little less worn down compared to the usual rabble roaming Filly. Certainly scrubbed a little cleaner than most but so were the rest of your companions. The lot of you are a curiosity for sure, but he's seen plenty of attractive women over the ages and known a handful carnally. He's not the sort of man to let a pretty face distract him. No, you don't get a second glance from the ghoul as he goes about his business. 

It's not until your laughter catches Cooper by the ear that he starts paying attention. Jerks his head right round at the sunny sound, attention diverting from the bounty board as he watches you engage with a customer. You laugh again, a merry delight that lights your face right up while the elderly woman you're chatting with laughs along. She's made brighter for being so close to you while you've suddenly become the sun in Cooper's eyes. A brightness he has to squint at when he looks over again to drink you in. His long-dead heart decides that it's about time to do a little flip.

That's a sensation he's not keen on feeling. Cooper hums under his breath, frown settling on his worn lips. He tugs the brim of his hat lower, turning away as he tries to focus on the task at hand. No good can come of fancying any sort of infatuation on a smoothie like you. You're not the sort of creature deserving of the trouble he could bring.

Yet Cooper finds he can't quite help himself. Wasteland life is full of little pleasures and looking at you sure counts as a bit of pleasure. Why not indulge?

The rest of the day as he sits waiting for a client to show, his eyes flicker over you. Wherever you're from, it's certainly kinder to you than what most folks in the Wasteland see. You almost look as soft as some fresh-faced Vaultie, but he can see that your hands are well-worn as you exchange produce for caps. A farmer of sorts. Homesteader.

He listens with a keener ear to the gossip swirling about you and those in your group. A little settler band situated out east, closer to the mountains and closer to what manages to grow green. He picks up that your lot wanders in every few weeks with produce to sell, or trade to stock up the settlement the collective group runs. 

Idly, he wonders what horseshit sort of ideology your commune might be sunk into, but if you're looking to spread a new sort of gospel none of your ilk seem keen on sharing it here. You're a welcome addition to the economy of Filly and it's clear that many enjoy the taste of hope this band of settlers bring in with their harvest. Cooper figures that's indoctrination enough from the harsh reality the Wasteland offers up.

Cooper finds himself wandering over to Ma June's place under the pretense of stocking up on supplies. There's suspicion in her eyes as he drops his intended purchases onto the counter but that's not out of the ordinary. There's always suspicion in the looks Ma June gives him, but she'll take his caps all the same.

"Say, now what's with that group of lil' farmers hauling in their produce like that? Can't imagine those soft-lookin' sorts making their way all the way here unmolested," he drawls out. His smile is crooked as Cooper counts through his caps to pay.

"Settlers, but the well-armed sort. No point in trifling with them. Too well-liked here for their fresh food supply they haul in," Ma June pulls the caps towards her, gaze fixed on the ghoul as she mutters. "They'll trade with ya, but keep out of their business. Ya hear?"

A hum escapes Cooper as he considers this, leaning onto the counter while glancing out the dusty window towards where you stand at the stall. He casually stashes his purchases into his saddlebag while going on conversationally.  "Well- Is that so? They a regular sort of fixture here in Filly now?"

"Have been setting up that stall going on half a year now. Surprised you've yet to come across 'em. Best cherry tomatoes you'll find in the Wasteland." Ma June eases back, arms crossing over her chest as a sour look settles in place on her worn face.

Another speculative hum escapes Cooper as he digests this information before he tips his hat to Ma June and goes on his way. Which happens to lead him straight to your stall.

Once there, Cooper casually plucks up potatoes, a handful of cherry tomatoes, and okra. All of it looks as vegetables should, the sort he would have found at the grocery store before everything went to shit. 

"How much for this lot?" He sets the small bounty atop the open space on the stall. Cooper gives you his Hollywood smile that would charm the pants off of any woman in bygone days, except now his face is a leathery wreck and his teeth are yellowed with age. Most people instantly flinch away in disgust.

Not you.

You smile like the morning sun towards him as you step closer while dusting your hands off on your pants. The bit of dirt smeared on your face only seems to enhance your features in Cooper's eyes. The look you give him is almost shy once you meet his gaze, smiling warmly up to him. 

Cooper finds that curious. He's familiar with a scowl or grimace of disgust when anyone looks him in the face, but here you are gracing him with an easy smile. A customer is a customer, he figures, and he'll do well enough. Yet, your friendliness doesn't feel like an act. Even after all these years, Cooper Howard still can clock other actors.

"Fifteen caps for the whole lot, but I'll throw in an extra sweet potato for the smile." You wink. Wink right at him as your smile grows. "They're good for ya, handsome." You add casually, the smile tugging up further into a cheeky grin. Your expression shifts. Playful. Coy. Interested.

Ain't that something? Cooper doesn't falter at the full force of your attention. He's too old and worn for that, but he sure does grin right back with a twinkle in his eye. Even an old ghoul like him can enjoy a pretty thing like you openly flirting with him.

Now that he’s heard it, Cooper decides your voice is sweet as a silver bell. The sort of soothing tone that reminds him of rain softly pelting a windowpane. It's the sort of sound that makes him wish to stay and listen for a while, tucked into the warmth that he suddenly wants you to offer up. He wants to get you talking to hear more. Wonders how he can coax you into a conversation.

That’s a fucking stupid idea. Cooper mentally shakes himself free of the passing fancy, head tilting ever so slightly as he peers down at you from the shadow of his hat. "Mhm. Ain't trying to get me hooked now are you, sweetheart?

"Something like that." 

“Well now, reckon vegetables ain’t the worst sort of vice a man can get lost in.” Cooper still can’t help himself. He lets his eyes wander right down your body before flicking back up to your face, what sort of vice he’s pondering made clear.

That flush on your cheeks blooms all the hotter as you laugh for him, the sound an utter delight when directed his way. You smile, sweet and shy now as you pluck up a hefty sweet potato to set beside the rest of his purchases. 

“Oh, well-” You start, stop with a small shake of your head as you smile all the wider. Utterly disarmed.

Cooper counts out the requested coin with a speculative hum, mirth sparking in his eyes as it seems he’s rendered you speechless. It’s down-right adorable if he’s being honest with himself. You’re a right little temptation he’d like to play with further. A dangerous thought.

Setting the coins onto the counter, he's swift in sweeping up his new bounty and stowing it all away into a pouch within his saddle bag. This close you're too bright and Cooper knows he's in trouble. Best to break away before you pull him into your orbit in full.

“You take care of yourself now, sweetheart,” Cooper drawls. He tips his hat towards you and turns away with spurs clicking. You watch him go, cheeks still flaming.

You know who he is. The Ghoul, the most famous Bounty Hunter the radiated Wastelands has to offer. You've heard all the rumors and truer tales about him all your life but nothing could prepare you for seeing him in the flesh. A dangerous sort of creature. A man who always brings his bounty in. 

You'd been watching him all day, stealing glances as you work. Now that you've seen him up close and personal? You're down-right fascinated. He’s nothing like the monster the stories painted him out to be. At least, he certainly wasn’t monstrous to you. There’s something captivating about him. Charming, even. 

You’ve seen ghouls before, of course. You know their kind as some live on the settlement with you. The majority end up shambling and ungainly, limbs no longer listening as the radiation rot wars with their regeneration abilities. A confusion that makes most of them uncoordinated and awkward in their transformed bodies, but The Ghoul? He’s got a swagger to his step that reminds you of those cowboys you’ve seen on ancient holotapes. 

He’s been lurking at the edge of your awareness all day, your head cocking in his direction to listen to the cadence of his voice as he bartered for bullets and talked business outside of the bar over yonder.

A thrill had jolted through you the moment he started to move towards your stall. The nervous energy thrumming through you had been made all the worse when you met The Ghoul’s gaze for the first time. A woman could find herself lost in such eyes and you’d certainly tripped right into them. Boldly meeting this stranger’s gaze and enjoying every second his attention was on you.

Shame he left so quickly. You sigh, turning back to count out bottlecaps he’d left as you turn your attention back to work. Best not to think about it. You’re unlikely to see that legend ever again.

[cowboylikeyouu]

🦾 WINTERHAWK RECS 🏹

@bl0ssomized asked for some winterhawk fic recs & i took that as my sign to finally sit down, go through my 500+ bookmarks and provide y'all with my fav fics <3 if you end up reading/enjoying any of these, PLEASE make sure to leave a comment on ao3, the authors deserve all the nice words in the world!!

about this list:

most of these fics are pretty popular in the fandom, so this list is more directed at new fans just joining the winterhawk paradise!! (there's a lot on here tho, so maybe you find one you haven't read yet)

bee asked for little to no smut, so i'm not gonna rec any pwp works here (with a few exceptions). if you want smut recs, hmu tho, i got y'all

there's obviously still smut in many of these fics, but i tried to tell you if it's important/skippable or not. if you don't mind smut i obviously recommend reading it bc GOD these authors just know their shit, but i think nobody should miss out on the amazing long fics just bc they don't like smut :)

i put a "notes" section for every fic where i just yap about it and/or my feelings towards it for a bit bc i literally can't shut up about these two guys.

alright, i think that's all, let's go!! pls tell me if i messed up the links somwhere :)

50k+ words 

Lucky In Love by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~60k 

important tags: no powers AU, oh my god they were roommates!, friends to lovers, mutual pining 

notes: every time i give winterhawk recs to a new fan i start with lucky in love, bc even tho it’s an AU, it has soo many of the typical winterhawk tropes i love so much. PLUS: roomates. and lucky. and every chapter is titled “aw, [something], no” and i find that way too funny to not mention. idk it’s just one of that fics that gives me the warmest & fuzziest of warm fuzzy feelings and i think everyone should read it. 

smut: even tho it has the wonderful, wonderful tag “not gonna tag every sex act just trust me there’s plenty”, there’s actually not that many. in my opinion, the perfect amount for a 60k, 21 chapters winterhawk fic. it’s quite a slow-burn, so they’re only in the later chapters anyway, and the build up to it is soOoo good. this is one of the fics where i know exactly where to find the smut scenes so feel free to hmu. 

Like Real People Do by Kangofu_CB

words: ~67k 

important tags: “i actually just wanted to watch these two idiots fall in love in a secluded cabin ok”; civil war fix it 

notes: no one, NO ONE  gets me like this fic, it checks like every single one of my boxes. perfection. not lying when i say it’s my favorite fic of all time. it doesn’t have a special premise or anything, but that’s the good thing about it. it’s just so… cozy. comfy. feels like home. i can’t even remember if like real people do is my favorite hozier song because of this fic or if it’s my fav fic bc like real people do is my fav hozier song, but i know that i never cried as hard as i did when i heard lrpd live and could only think about this fic. nothing makes me feel as good as re-reading this story, i want to eat it.

smut: yes, but only like 2,5 scenes. hmu and i tell you the exact fucking paragraph number or smth, this fic is literally engraved in my soul. thank you CB. some day i’ll leave a 2k words comment on every single chapter. 

The Other Man out of Time by sara_holmes 

words: ~97k 

important tags: time travel, falling in love, clint barton centric 

notes: okay so this is kinda the best winterhawk fic in existence?? not my absolute favorite bc it makes me cry too much, but definitely top 3. no other winterhawk fic made me sob this hard, no other winterhawk fic makes me wanna curl up on the floor and cry for an hour every time i think about it. that being said: IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING!!! and a lot of stuff in between is SO sweet as well. premise is basically: clint travels back in time and fights in wwii alongside bucky and they fall in love. and then bucky!canon happens. you get it? you get it. it’s- UGH it’s so good. jesus. i’m crying. 

smut: a few short sexy scenes i think, but no SMUT smut, and it’s definitely definitely DEFINITELY not the focus of the story. can’t emphasise enough how much everyone should read this 

Hipsters get Remembered, Legend’s Never Die by sara_holmes

words: ~90k 

important tags: millennial bucky barnes, awesome clint barton, recovery 

notes: millennial bucky is one of the most entertaining things fandom came up with, and this fic is the epitome of that trope. love love LOVE. plus, clint’s really fucking awesome in this. 

smut: yes, but only like two or three times in 11 chapters, easily skippable

Puzzle Pieces (series) by sara_holmes 

words: ~446k 

important tags: steve/tony, kid fic, emotional hurt

notes: if you don’t like stony this one isn’t for you, just skip to next one :) if you like stony: GOD pls read puzzle pieces!! the first 200k words fic is stony focused and has only pre-slash winterhawk, but even tho they don’t get together in this one yet it’s literally one of my favorite clint/bucky portrayals of all time, no one gets them like sara, it’s perfect. the stony/kid fic storyline is SO amazing as well, so if that’s your cup of tea, check. it. out. after that they’re a few longer winterhawk instalments, and while some of them are really angsty and painful, there’s always a happy ending. god i need to re-read this entire thing. it makes me wanna cry and throw up in all the good ways. 

smut: some, but you can definitely skip it.

I’ll keep you safe here with me by sara_holmes 

words: ~110k 

important tags: kidnapping, PTSD, mind control aftermath & recovery 

notes: ngl i haven’t read this one in a long time, but everything by sara is perfect and this one’s one of the most kudo’d winterhawk fics, so it’s basically a must read. everyone needs to read a good clint & the winter soldier fic at least once

smut: it’s rated mature, so no really explicit smut. can’t remember if they don’t get a bit horny tho.

A Heart Worth Loving by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~82k 

important tages: soulmate AU, no powers AU, modern bucky barnes, forced cohabitation 

notes: GOOD FUCKING SOUP. soulmate au AND they were roommates????? beat that. it takes them ages to figure out they’re soulmates, which makes this equally amazing and frustrating, but it’s all so so worth it 

smut: yes, at the end of it. you CAN skip it, although i recommend skimming through it and read the dialogue parts and stuff. 

if you were a mythical thing by Kangofu_CB

words: ~75k 

important tags: teachers au, kid fic, werewolves 

notes: quick story time for this one bc i remember it so so well lmao: winterhawk olympic bang 2022, most authors had started to post their fics except for CB and i KNEW she had written one, and i was literally checking my emails every hour for days. and then she finally posted it and i already started screaming when i saw the taylor lyrics as a title, and then i read those three tags and literally had to sit on my floor for 20 minutes to calm down bc i was so excited. i remember posting like 20 stories on my private insta that were just me keysmashing lmaoo. idk but teachers + kid fic + werewolves is just such a BONKERS combination, and i can promise you’re in for a treat, it’s so so fun. 15/10. 

smut: yes, but it takes some time to get there and it’s skippable

Adventures in dogsitting by Call_Me_Kayyyyy 

words: ~53k

important tags: friends to lovers, dogsitting, pining 

notes: another olympic bang fic, thank you. cute, fun, lots of lucky content :) good soup 

smut: NO SMUT

Under My skin (series) by finely honed 

words: ~360k

important tags: Steve/Tony (the “main” instalment is stony focused), PTSD, Life after the army, AU - Tattoo Parlour 

notes: the “first” instalment is a stony fic (one of my all time favs honestly) but with a lot of amazing side-winterhawk, and there’s a winterhawk spin-off, that’s a prequel to the stony arc, so you can just read that first if you want. it was one of the first english winterhawk fics i’ve ever read and it always makes me wanna cry when i think about it (in a good way).

smut: they’re quite horny in both big instalments, but i would say the smut is skippable. it’s not un-important for both the winterhawk and the stony dynamic tho, so i wouldn’t recommend doing that

This is Not a Date, it’s a Kidnapping by sara_holmes 

words: ~50k 

important tags: Fake Kidnapping, also real kidnapping, Bucky Barnes recovering, fake relationship 

notes: all sara_holmes is good sara_holmes, but this one’s one of my favs, it’s just so fun. GOD i miss winterhawk olympic bang 2021, this was such a blast to read when it first came out!! 

smut: NO SMUT

Freedom’s Reach by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~68k 

important tags: arranged marriage, western/historical AU, slow burn 

notes: aaaand another  winterhawk olympic bang 2021 fic! pretty sure this one was my fav during the bang, like i remember hitting up a friend of mine and screaming at each other for like an hour every time a new chapter dropped, we were SO invested. very good soup. 

smut: yes, but it’s a sloooow build, so it’s only in the later chapters. pretty sure it’s easily skippable 

ghost in the machine by squadrickchestopher

words: ~75k 

important tags: fake character death, heavy angst, ghosts, loneliness 

notes: UGHHHH clint “dies”, becomes a ghost and only bucky can see him. touch starved clint final boss basically. amazing shit. painful shit. (happy ending tho) 

smut: it’s rated explicit and it’s by squaddy, so i’m like 99% sure there’s smut, i actually can’t remember tho lmao 

Barton’s Halfway House for Ex-Brainwashed Assassins (series) by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~90k 

important tags: the slowest burn, the mcu reimagined completely, accidental baby acquisition, found family, kid fic

notes: this one’s an ongoing series, and it’s such an amazing one, you can feel all the love that’s been put into this. you have to go through like 60k of slow burn before winterhawk actually happens, but it’s soooo worth it. plus: kid fic. kid fic’s always good. 

smut: yes, but only in the 3rd part and the short pwp oneshot. easily skippable

something magic, something tragic by squadrickchestopher 

words: ~55k

important tags: supernatural elements, vampire bucky, enemies to lovers 

notes: VAMPIRES!!! that should be enough to convince you to read this fic!! and it’s by squaddy, it literally can’t be bad if it’s by squaddy.

smut: ughhh not entirely sure, pretty sure the mature rating is mostly for violence, but, again, it’s squaddy, so it’s very possible there’s some sexy stuff hiding in there.

Sweet Home Was Home by there_must_be_a_lock 

words: ~110k 

important tags: “i sorta made my own franken-canon”, christmas fluff, soft feelings

notes: i found this one on accident once when i wasn’t really expecting to find another PERFECT long ass winterhawk fic i haven’t read yet, and then i binge-read it in one night, and it’s honestly one of the best i’ve ever read, it’s so so soft and… healing. for both bucky and clint and myself. it’s really not as popular as it should be imo, definitely worthy of a place on the first page of the ship tag!! highly HIGHLY recommend checking it out!! 

smut: yes, but skippable 

10k - 50k words 

Starving for the Light by thepartyresponsible 

words: ~45k 

important tags: magic AU, soul bond 

notes: jesus christ i wanna eat this fic so bad. definitely my favorite 2021 winterhawk olympic bang fic, it’s just THAT good. need to re-read it entirely to make sure, but i think it’s in my top 10 if not top 5 fav winterhawk fics of all time. clint’s just so… beautiful in this, idk how else to describe it. and idk, it has a such a unique premise and setting, i love everything about it. 

smut: yes, but skippable. 

Historic Features by flawedamythyst

words: ~19k

important tags: ghosts AU, homophobic violence 

notes: oooohhh my god, don’t make me think about this fic i’m gonna cry. it’s actually pretty fun and cute and fucking awesome, but clint & bucky’s backstory in this?? i’m ugly crying, leave me alone. premise is basically: they’re ghosts and haunting the apartment they died in years ago, scaring everyone who tries to live there out of it. then steve and tony wanna move in. it’s fucking great. 

smut: NO SMUT 

Call It What You Want To by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~48k 

important tags: modern bucky barnes, sugar daddy

notes: clint becomes bucky’s sugar daddy on accident without realising and it’s the funniest fucking shit i’ve ever seen, god i love him so much. plus, again,,, millennial bucky barnes. gimme all the millennial bucky barnes.

smut: 3 or 4 scenes i think, starting as early as chapter… 2??? i think??? pretty skippable tho, as long as you read like the foreplay and everything.

A Thistle Cannot Grow by ccbytheseashore

words: ~12k 

important tags: kid fic, developing relationship 

notes: AHHHSDJGHSKJDHG. enough right?? i’m always a sucker for some good dad!clint & soft!bucky content. this one’s so so sweet it’s one of my main comfort fics, can’t recommend it enough if you love kid fics! 

smut: yes, but it’s literally only like 500 words of frotting, you know when it’s coming and you know when it’s over :) (it’s amazing tho) 

Attachments by Lissadiane 

words: ~22k 

important tags: high school au, mother hen bucky barnes, clint barton needs a hug 

notes: i KNOW many people don’t like high school AUs and i don’t fucking care. teenage winterhawk has so much potential, i love them to death. which is exactly why you should read this ;) 

smut: NO SMUT

Outnumbered by sara_holmes 

words: ~18k 

important tags: kid fic, triplets, no powers AU, bucky comes home to new york 

notes: another single dad clint fic, but give him 3 boys this time!! —> chaos. amazing chaos. + amazing bucky. good soup. 

smut: NO SMUT 

Once Lost (now found) by Teeelsie 

words: 40k 

important tags: hurt clint barton, on the run, self sacrifice 

notes: hurt clint barton final boss. this was written for whumptober, so you can imagine how bad it gets. SO worth it tho, even if you don’t really love that kind of stuff! 

smut: NO SMUT (pretty sure clint’s too hurt to have any kind of sexual thoughts <3 stupid stupid stubborn man. i love him so much)

The Best Worst Thing (that hasn’t happened to you yet) by sara_holmes

words: ~48k 

important tags: enemies to friends to lovers, rescue missions 

notes: if you’re into comic winterhawk and read their tales of suspense run, you should definitely read this fic. if you haven’t read tales of suspense, go do that now and then come back to the fic, bc it’s basically a rewrite that gives us the bucky/clint & nat dynamic we fucking deserve

smut: don’t think so?

skylines and tan lines by flawedamythyst

words: ~33k 

important tags: no powers AU, coronovirus lockdown, long distance flirting 

notes: this was literally my fav fic during lockdown, i’m not lying when i say i read this at least 20 times in 2020/21 lmaoo. it’s just such a fun concept; bucky’s living with peggy/steve, and their dynamic is so enjoyable. 

smut: there’s quite a bit of sexting & phone sex, plus a smut scene at the end. doesn’t take up the entire fic tho, and the rest is worth it as well. 

Behind Bars by sara_holmes and Behind Bares (On The Other Side Remix) by flawedamythyst 

words: ~32k (sara), ~25k (amy)

important tags: prison AU 

notes: sara’s fic is the original, amy remixed it and wrote if from clint’s pov (with quite some changes). i love both fics, but i definitely read the remix more often and prefer it, but i highly recommend reading both, they’re amazing!! clint & bucky are cell mates!!! and it’s angsty!! a little bit!! 

smut: can’t remember what it’s like in sara’s version, but it’s only rated mature soo... there’s definitely one or two smut scenes in amy’s fic, but easilyyy skippable, only like a few handjobs or smth i think.

What do you mean we left Clint on Mars? by sara_holmes 

words: ~25k 

important tags: outer space, falling in love, clint feels 

notes: a classic. falling in love long-distance is soo fun, and i love it when author’s touch-starve clint, so there’s that <3

smut: NO SMUT

A Christmas Miracle: Getting Lucky by Lissadiane

words: ~11k 

important tags: christams, hallmark fic 

notes: LUCKY!!!! i read this every single christmas. you should too. you’re welcome. 

smut: NO SMUT 

Dear Super-Secret Diary by flawedamythyst 

words: ~16k 

important tags: christmas fluff 

notes: clint is bored and gets a diary (and the guy). a christmas must-read, it’s fun and cute and fluffy!!! one of the few times i will accept first person narration bc, well, it’s a goddamn diary 

smut: NO SMUT 

winterhawk punks in love (series) by 1000_directions 

words: ~19k words 

important tags: punk au, amputee bucky, deaf clint, ptsd, emotional hurt/comfort, recovery 

notes: punk!winterhawk is so important to me I NEED MORE OF IT!!! this one’s such a perfect mix of happiness and angst and comfort UGH it just hits that spot. 

smut: yes, but the fic’s still amazing if u skip it 

Apple Of My Eye by flawedamythyst

words: ~40k 

important tags: clint barton’s farm, found family, domestic 

notes: FARM FIC FARM FIC FARM FIC!!! bucky, clint and wanda basically start an apple business on his farm, and it’s just soo comfy and awesome.

smut: NO SMUT

Alone in the Bitterness by Lissadiane

words: ~16k

important tags: no pwers au, nurse bucky, disaster clint 

notes: nurse bucky nurse bucky nurse bucky nurse bucky!!! do i have to say more?? 

smut: NO SMUT

Team Spirit by Noxnthea 

words: 17k 

important tags: case fic, enemies to lovers lite 

notes: noxnthea is such an underrated author it’s a literal crime. i normally don’t love case fics that much, but this is a ghost hunters case fic AND their banter is so fun that it really doesn’t matter for me this time 

smut: NO SMUT

Reach Out by Kangofu_CB

words: ~11k 

important tags: 5+1, a lot of sex tags, porn with feelings, feelings realisation 

notes: CB’s smut always hits different, and idk, the +1 of this is just sooo funny and adorable, i love it to death. read this more times than i’ll admit. 

smut: basically pwp, big no no if you don’t like smut. 

Storms Within (Bridges Rebuilt) by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~11k 

important tags: star wars setting, force sensitive bucky & clint, crack treated seriously 

notes: guys you can’t imagine my excitement when the notif for this fic popped up in my emails. luke skywalker is one of my top 10 all time fav fictional characters AND HERE HE IS INTERACTING W MY FAV BOYS IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!!!! it’s so so good, if you’re into star wars you’re gonna love it!! (even if not, it’s by CB, impossible to not enjoy)

smut: NO SMUT

Draw, Breathe, Fire by FestiveFerret

words: ~15k 

important tags: falling in love, flirting, banter 

notes: haven’t read this in a long time, but i’m pretty sure it was like a perfect little bucky-recovering-and-falling-in-love-with-clint-while-living-in-the-tower-fic. he learns archery!! pretty sure they also adopt a ferret or something???? good shit

smut: NO SMUT

Hoist a Black Flag by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~11k 

important tags: pirate au 

notes: ITS BASICALLY AN OFMD AU OKAY HOW CAN U NOT LOVE IT???

smut: yes, but skippable

Cupid’s Arrows by flawedamythyst 

words: ~14k 

important tags: office AU, valentine’s day 

notes: clint dressed up as cupid, bad pick up lines, shenanigans. haven’t read this in quite a while, but i remember i enjoyed it A LOT a few years ago and re-read it multiple times!! 

smut: NO SMUT

The Best Thing since a Double-Shot Expresso by sara_holmes 

words: ~11k 

important tags: coffee shop AU, misunderstandings, getting together 

notes: friends to lovers final boss. they’ve been best friends (husbands) for years and literally live together, and it takes them an insane amount of jealousy and steve’s ass to finally get together. such a fun read, highly HIGHLY recommend 

smut: NO SMUT

Habits of My Heart by Kangofu_CB

words: ~18k 

important tags: Fuckbuddies to Lovers, no powers AU, grindr 

notes: fuckbuddies to lovers with loads of pining will always be THE most realistic winterhawk depiction for me, sorry not sorry. this one’s extra fun bc steve and nat have been trying to set them up for months, but they’ve been already hooking up for months. it’s great. 

smut: yes, but easily skippable.

In Which Peter Is Everyone’s Favourite Avenger by DestroyedConscience 

words: ~25k 

important tags: Twitter, everyone is gay, gen z humor 

notes: look, this is an unfinished, non-winterhawk-centric twitter fic, but as a fellow winterhawk twitter fic author i just HAVE to recommend it. if u like this kind of thing, go check it out, it’s so fun :) 

smut: NO SMUT

Look What The Cat Dragged In by flawedamythyst

words: 22k 

important tags: Bucky Barnes is a cat lover, domestic fluff 

notes: i haven’t read this in years, but i KNOW it was great. at this point just go check out amy’s account and read all of her winterhawk fics, she has over a hundred and they’re all great!! but this one has them co-parenting alpine, so it’s extra great!!

smut: NO SMUT

My Heart Will Be Your Home by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~49k 

important tags: soulmates au, single parent clint barton

notes: soulmate au plus kid fic guys, i repeat, SOULMATE AU PLUS KID FIC GUYS!!! BY DR GIRLFRIEND!!!! GOD i miss winterhawk olympic bang 21/22 this one was such a blast to read when it first came out. 

smut: yes, but skippable 

Chrome Plated Heart by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~20k 

important tags: pacific rim fusion

notes: i’ve never seen pacific rim and i still had a blast reading this one!! (she put a basic explanation for it somewhere in the story notes, so dw about it!!). it was SO nice to read a fic where they’re not heavily traumatised and just have a chill, easy getting together. really sweet stuff

smut: NO SMUT!!

Know When To Hold ‘Em by flawedamythyst

words: ~11k 

important tags: exes to lovers, no powers au, cambling 

notes: UGHHH i need more fics like this one, it’s so so SO good!! flashes back and forth to the time when they were first together and when they meet again and skjdghlksdhg my heart just hurts so much for both of them. (happy ending tho dw, clint’s just so sad in the present and it hurts my soul)

smut: yeah, the part in the present is basically just one big smut scene but it’s soOoOoO emotional and i always love me some emotional smut

Christmas in Colour by mariana_oconnor 

words: ~12k 

important tags: soulmates see in colour, christmas fluff 

notes: SOULMATES SEE IN COLOUR !!!!! *swoons so hard she falls to the floor* top 3 best soulmates tropes i dont make the rules i love it so much. ESPECIALLY when it’s with a character like clint who usually has a colour he loves SO SO much. a christmas must read :) 

smut: NO SMUT

Chaos By Another Name by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~13k 

important tags: dimension travel, time travel, friends to lovers 

notes: DIMENSION-HOPPING TIME-TRAVEL ADVENTURE GUYS!!! why wouldn’t you wanna read it??? 

smut: yes

I Still Choose You (The Public Domain Remix) by mariana_oconnor 

words: ~14k 

important tags: soulmates at first kiss, fake/pretend relationship 

notes: have a fic with two of the best tropes ever, you’re so very welcome. plus plus PLUS: demisexual bucky. as a demisexual/asexual/still trying to figure it out lesbian, i’m always ALWAYS here for any kind of ace spectrum winterhawk, so yeah. 

smut: NO SMUT

the road rising up to meet me by veryrach

words: ~24k 

important tags: pining, sexual reawakening, chaotic slutty clint barton 

notes: MORE DEMISEXUAL BUCKY!!! AND HOT CLINT!!! no other words needed. read it. 

smut: i’m so sorry but i can’t remember if it gets SMUTTY smutty. but there’s definitely a lot of sexual themes i mean look at the tags lmao

Showdown by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~14k 

important tags: fake/pretend relationship; fluff 

notes: breaking my silence: fake dating might me my fav trope of all time. in this one they’re pretending to date for the sole purpose of annoying steve and tony and i think that’s the best thing ever. 

smut: NO SMUT

Light the Spark by dr_girlfriend

words: ~26k 

important tags: fake/pretend relationship, mutual pining, enemies to friends to lovers

notes: aaaand the next fake dating fic >:) the enemies arc is like 0.2 seconds, blink and you miss it, but whoooo cares, we’re here for the fake dating & pining guys!!!

smut: yes, but you can skip it!

-10k words 

Wine and Pine by feathers_and_cigarettes 

words: 6k

Important tags: Touch-Starved, Fake Marriage, pining!clint 

Notes: this is one of those fics i always come back to without realising and it always hits that spot. like i said, fake dating is my favorite trope, and MISSION fake dating???? i'm in heaven

smut: there’s quite a bit of smut, but it’s at the end and even if you stop reading after they kiss it’s really worth it. 

Over Easy by Lissadiane

words: ~9k

important tags: hook up gone awry, awkwardly crashing the birth of a baby 

notes: need y’all to know that this has one of my all time fav smut scenes, i kinda know it by heart. don’t quote me on that, this is our secret. this one’s just so so SO much fun, i’m having the time of my life every time i read it (which is at least like once a month) 

smut: yes, and it’s kinda the best part, but everything else is so fun as well that i really wouldn’t wanna miss out on it

The Love You Deserve by flawedamythyst 

words: ~8k 

important tags: unhappy family holidays, homophobia, family issues, jewish bucky barnes 

notes: another must-read christmas fic for me; clint goes home for christmas to an uncle of his or something but they all turn out to be homophobic assholes or something and then bucky shows up to save the day <3

smut: NO SMUT 

what you really, really want by Noxnthea 

words: ~8k 

important tags: pining, misunderstandings 

notes: *blurts out* THEYVE BEEN IN LOVE FOR AGES AND THEN WANDA HEXES THEM SO THEY THINK THEVE BEEN DATING FOR YEARS!!! this is SUCH an underrated fic, it doesn’t even have 200 kudos like wtf??? SHOW IT SOME LOVE!!!

smut: NO SMUT

The 300 Club by Noxnthea 

words: ~10k 

important tags: no powers au, scientist clint & bucky 

notes: there aren’t enough scientist winterhawk AUs so HUGE THANKS noxnthea for feeding us. i will literally haunt you if you don’t read this one, ITS SO UNDERRATED!!! AND SO FUN!!

smut: NO SMUT

For Everything There is A Season by dr_girlfriend

words: ~9.7k 

important tags: crack fic, secret service agent!bucky, small business owner!clint barton 

notes: crack fics are always gold and this one especially, it’s such a ridiculous idea, how could you not love it? always a very fun read! 

smut: NO SMUT

Background Noise by Reremouse 

words: ~8k 

important tags: modern au, deaf clint barton 

notes: MILLENIAL BUCKY!!! clint is bucky’s upstairs neighbour and extremely loud bc he’s well… deaf. lol. and bucky’s a night shift worker which really isn’t a good combo on first thought. but on second thought, these are clint and bucky, so OBVIOUSLY they’re gonna make a great combo out of it. it’s fuckign amazing. plus bucky & sam friendship!! good shit guys, good shit.

smut: NO SMUT

you didn’t hear that by jedusaur 

words: ~2.6k 

important tags: roomates, eavesdropping 

notes: super self-indulgent rec, i always read this one when i need some cheering up lmao it’s just so fun and they’re kinda nasty and UGH. love. it explores the range of bucky’s super hearing. do with that what you want. 

smut: yes. it explores the range of bucky’s super hearing in every way ;)

one more time by squadrickchestopher 

words: ~4k 

important tags: touch starved, hurt clint barton 

notes: i don’t even know why i love this one so much, but it holds SUCH a special place in my heart. it might be my undying love for touch starved!clint who finally gets his well-needed hugs by bucky. there’s also an amazing podfic by flowerparrish for it, make sure to give kudso to them both!!! 

smut: NO SMUT

the salt on your lips by veryrach 

words: ~9k 

important tags: kissing, an absolutely ridiculous lack of communication 

notes: exactly what the tags say. it’s a 5+1 as well, WHAT ELSE DO YOU NEED IN LIFE???? 10/10. i remember waiting for months for the last few chapters and it was SO worth it!!

smut: NO SMUT

Love Potion No. 10 by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~8k 

important tags: love potion/spell, not actually unrequited love

notes: i won’t say anything about the story bc i don’t wanna spoiler it, but i’ll say that i re-read the second half of it at least once a month, it’s just THAT sweet. 

smut: NO SMUT

There’s No ‘I’ In Denial by flawedamythyst 

words: ~5k 

important tags: truth spells 

notes: clint gets hit by a magic truth gun and can’t lie anymore. such a fun & cute read every single time.

smut: NO SMUT

The Name of the Game by squadrickchestopher 

words: ~6k 

important tags: competition, trash talking, feelings realization 

notes: this one’s just so so fun, it has allllllll the winterhawk banter anyone could ask for. and i always love me some competitive idiots in love

smut: NO SMUT 

Full Barton by aw_writing_no 

words: ~6k 

important tags: no powers au, cop!bucky, human disaster clint 

notes: what the tags say. clint embarrassing himself in front of bucky who enjoys it a bit too much gotta be one of my fav tropes. 

smut: NO SMUT

one more little mistake by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~3k 

important tags: clint barton wears glasses, bucky barnes is horny for clint barton 

notes: these tags are basically the entire fic lmaooo. it’s great, i love nothing more than HOT HOT HOT clint barton and bucky realising how hot he is 

smut: almost lmao (they get interrupted while making out) 

my hands no longer an afterthought by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~3k 

important tags: getting back together 

notes: i have a sweet sweet SWEET spot for winterhawk getting back togethers if handled well, and this one handles it soo well. 

smut: NO SMUT

Five Lies People Believe About Clint and Bucky by EVVS 

words: ~1.5k 

important tags: established relationship 

notes: this is one of those fics i always go back to if i have a few minutes and need some (bitter)sweet fluff. it’s exactly what the title says, some lies are fun, some are painful, and all of them just hit that spot 

smut: NO SMUT

My Sausage Brings Alll the Boys To The Yard by flawedamythyst 

words: ~1.7k 

important tags: bad flirting 

notes: this one’s so stupid it probably shouldn’t be on here but i remember how i was reading this in class for the first time when i was still in school and i was almost pissing myself bc it made me laugh so hard. very fun, go read it >:(

smut: NO SMUT

bonus for the freaks:

Filthy Porn Fridays by squadrickchestopher 

there’s 18 works so far, it’s smut smut smut aaaand - you guessed it - smut. if you wanna see the boys fuck nastily, this is your place to be. 

(delicate tension is the best fic of the series, it’s actually a roadtrip AU and not just smut, highly highly recommend) 

alrightyyy, i think that's it for now :) this took me quite some time so i'd appreciate some reblogs or whatever!! we need to spread some winterhawk love guys!!

all my love goes out to every author i mentioned here, and every other author who's ever written winterhawk. you guys are my heroes, idk what i'd do without you. literally ripping my heart into a thousand pieces and giving every single one of you a tiny part 💜

[takes1]

omg if ur requests r still open… let me start off by saying i ate your tsukki series right up it scratched my needy loser itch SO WELL 😭😭 so much so im coming to you as a woman and begging you to do a needy oikawa scenario headcanon fic ANYTHING!!!! like i’d love a pathetic loser oikawa whos like perchance… crushing on one of the members of the girls team of seijoh…? 🫢

i’ll literally take anything u write atp that tsukki series was so fucking good that i literally put off studying for my finals to wait for ur updates instead 😭 i hope u know ur an excellent writer n wish u a very well day!!! 🤍🤍

god this request made my damn dayy!! ilysm. you're the best. i'm so glad you liked the tsukki series!! i've been waiting around for people start requesting! i love writing needy men, they're so dynamic

warnings. none. sfw, but hard-on mentioned so minors DNI info. hq fluff / yearning / needy!oikawa / loser!oikawa / volleyball team!reader / ace!reader / kind of popular!reader / oikawa getting hard talking to you / oikawa crushing / seijoh losing a match / iwa being a good friend / 1k words 🤍haikyuu collection. more of my hq here more links. my ao3 / masterlist / request box is open and empty, so give me some ideas pls!

"Come on, dumbass- the bus is here," Iwaizumi reached out to grab Oikawa's wrist to keep him from lingering any longer at the entrance to the gym floor.

"Give me two seconds," Oikawa spat. He swatted away his teammate's attempt to haul him from his vantage point.

Iwaizumi sucked his teeth and muttered something under his breath.

For once, Oikawa didn't pay it any mind. He had to see you spike. He had to watch you win.

The ball spun up, perfect and slow for your setter- his clammy hands clenched at the soaked number on his jersey. You leaped up for it. He froze that moment in time, your perfect form, perfect body, perfect force, all sculpted for this sport you both loved and dedicated yourselves to. It was a frame he could worship until the end of time.

You gave a brutal and strong slam, clean and cutthroat, that connected to the linoleum on the other side of the court.

"YEAAAAHHHHH!!"

The cries of the audience, your team, a double whistle, and the pounding of his own heart for you filled his ears. He couldn't hear the reinforcements Iwaizumi had sent to drag him away so they could leave.

It didn't matter now.

None of them were in the mood to entertain his sensitivities, since they hadn't had as much luck as you against Karasuno.

That being said, he wasn't the only one who was happy the girl's team had managed to make it. It made their group jogging back to catch the bus just a bit less out-of-sorts.

Though his plan was to speak to you first thing that next morning about the match, it never worked that way.

You were the epitome of untouchable, surrounded by many friends and always smiling at something they said to you- he couldn't stomach the possibility of you not smiling at him the same way.

But you were magnetic; as soon as he gave up on the line he prepared for you, he would watch your perfect smile light up the room and have a brand-new, better one.

Yet, a mere, "Hey," Was all he could manage on his best days when your teams switched for practice, between his own admirers never leaving him alone, and your always-occupied attention.

He wasn't enough to catch your eye.

That alone stumped him, because he never had a problem with this before you.

There was a noisy little songbird outside the window, right next to him on the other side of the glass, practically egging him on.

His gaze flitted from the bird over to your desk for the final, innumerable time that class. The heavy head in his hand tilted, studying the way you played with your hair, in hopes to replicate it.

God, if you were his, you would never have to worry about brushing it. He'd be at your beck and call, anything you needed, he would search Heaven and Earth for it.

He sighed through his nose, hand over his mouth.

There was a pain in his eyes.

You copied the last few pieces from the textbook to your notes and brushed away some eraser marks from your desk. A steady, cute, focus on your brow.

The bell rang for lunch.

A fluttering of wings and the bird he was watching was far away now, soaring through the partly cloudy sky. He turned back to you and his heart sank.

There were already guys at your desk congratulating you on your win.

You grinned and mentioned your team's hard work, casual and cool, and took your lunch out as they walked away.

He couldn't let himself be forgotten. With a bit too much enthusiasm he stood and his chair scraped the floor, loud.

Only a few people turned to look and you were thankfully not one of them.

No time to think-- just going for it, he belted out at the side of your desk,

"I saw you win the match."

What the fuck did he just say?

You glanced up at him. He didn't mean to say that, exactly. He should've just said congrats. His face filled with struggle.

"Oh!" You wiped your mouth, "Yeah, I saw you guys walking out, I wanted to talk to you!"

He stumbled over his words, unable to think clearly enough to take a second to breathe, "Y-eah, the bus- was there--."

"The girls watched you guys, too. I'm sorry about what happened."

His face was starting to get warm, and just his luck, two of his most common groupies were stalking you with dark looks at the door. He was fumbling so bad. Of course you watched him lose.

You looked down for a moment, "That was a tough match."

In doing so, you remembered that monster serve that made you jump out of your seat.

You giggled, "Oh man, but that serve of yours!!"

His chest puffed up, filled with a newfound pride that mended every lackluster attempt he ever had at getting your attention.

"That was so fucking cool!"

Heat crept up his neck, goosebumps all over his arms so bad he had to cross them. He was blushing ear to ear.

A choked sound preceded his uneven voice, "You saw that?"

"Y-eaaah, I mean," He was making it worse already, but you were grinning up at him. How could he not keep trying to impress you?

"-They're better way better at practice, ya know."

"Oh, yeah?" An unwanted, deep voice egged on from his side.

He jumped away from Iwaizumi, whom he made plans to meet with for lunch, now standing with his arms crossed and an unimpressed brow line.

You both shared an amicable wave before he slapped a broad hand on the back of Oikawa's neck to direct him away and let you eat in peace.

It was arguably in his best interest, but Oikawa scrambled out of his grip as soon as he was in the hallway, pissed that he was abducted just as it was getting good.

"The fuck?" He snapped, rubbing the hot spot just under his hairline.

Iwaizumi, not about to tolerate his attitude like he did yesterday, rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. He started walking towards their usual spot with a smirk that his friend couldn't see.

He called over his shoulder, "You should really tuck that, dude."

The few students in the hallway watched his back, some in amusement, some in carnal curiosity, as he panicked for a moment, faced a corner -beet red and muttering-, and did just so.

my masterlist.

please send requests!

thanks again anon for the send, hope you like!! <3

[slut4thebroken]

Hysterical

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Robert Capa x reader

Summary | Capa finally gives in to his urges and is pleasantly surprised with the turn of events.

Warnings | NON CON, smut, coma sex??, knife play? but like non con, super fucked up, I need therapy, idk this fic is kind of a flop.

Words | 800+

Notes | Yeah the first and only Robert Capa fic I posted sucked and honestly I don’t think this is much better😭 idk why I can’t write anything good for him skdhsk

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 7: non-con

For some reason, after the first incident, you went completely hysterical. It got so bad that you had to be sedated until they could figure out what to do and how to help you. Which was the perfect opportunity he needed because after last time, he was a little addicted. 

He waited until everyone was asleep, then quietly walked over to the medical bay. You were laying in one of the observation rooms, sleeping soundly. 

Not wanting to increase his chances of getting caught by staying here for too long, he quickly pulled down your pants and underwear to your ankles, then climbed over you. He pushed his clothes down just enough to free his cock and spit on his hand to rub over the tip before lining up. 

You were even tighter than last time, especially in this position with your legs so close together, but he finally managed to force his way in. Your brows furrowed the tiniest bit, giving away your discomfort even while unconscious, and he let out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him again. He took a moment to catch his breath and try to hold back his orgasm so he could at least fuck you for a little bit first, then he was pushing in the rest of the way. Once he was buried inside you completely, he slowly dragged his hips back to repeat the process. 

Your cunt squeezed him like a vice, practically forcing him out. He was grunting quietly, savoring the feeling of being inside a tight, warm pussy again after going so long without it because he was in space. Honestly, part of him regretted not doing this sooner. He’s always found you attractive and would frequently fantasize about you. If he would’ve known you’d go insane after the first time and gotten yourself put in a medically induced coma— basically giving him free rein to fuck you again as many times as he wants— he would’ve done this years ago. 

He couldn’t help but think about the first time it happened— a little over a week ago now. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen and made his way to your room. The knife was just a precaution because he had an idea of how you’d react, but he wasn’t completely certain. 

You woke up to him on top of you, sucking on your nipple and groping your other breast. The second you started to raise your voice, he presented the knife. “Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, and I won’t have to use this.” You went completely stiff under him, almost in shock as he reached down to free his cock and pull your shorts and panties to the side. He forced himself in with a low grunt, covering your mouth to muffle your wail. 

“Shh… You’re okay. Just take it…” He whispered, voice thick with arousal. You sobbed violently and squeezed your eyes shut as he dragged the blade down your cheek, not yet cutting you, but just showing you that he could if needed. 

You made the prettiest little sounds for him as he rutted into you desperately, already nearing his orgasm after so long without any sex. He took his hand away from your mouth to kiss you, making you whimper and try to turn away, but you went still when he pressed the knife to your neck. 

“You feel so good, baby… So fucking good.” He groaned into the kiss, ignoring the way you continued crying. Even though he wanted nothing more than to feel your tight pussy milk his cock, he knew he had to pull out if he wanted to fuck you again. So he leaned up and fisted his cock rapidly, shooting ropes of hot come onto your stomach. You cried silently, unable to move or speak and he leaned back down over you to kiss you again. 

“You’re not going to tell anyone about this, right?” He asked, pulling back to make eye contact as he dragged the blade down your cheek, reminding you what would happen if you did. You let out a choked sob, but shook your head. “Good girl.” 

His orgasm was quickly approaching as he rutted into you frantically, chasing the pleasure. He desperately wanted to come inside you, but he reminded himself again that if he wanted to keep doing this, he had to pull out. So with a growl of frustration, he leaned up and pulled out, fiercely pumping his cock, coming on your stomach again. He took a moment to catch his breath, then stuffed his cock back in his pants and got up. Before leaving, he grabbed some paper towels to clean your stomach and fixed your clothes, then walked out as if nothing had happened. 

[ameenvie]

Treacherous, Pt. 1 - Jim Halpert x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | fic recs

“Out of focus, eye to eye, 'Til the gravity's too much”

Part II

Word count: 2.7k Warnings: nothing in this chapter, nsfw in part 2! Tags: idiots in love, banter, messing around, pining Prompt/Summary: You started working at Dunder Mifflin around 6 months ago, and since then you developed a massive crush on one of your colleagues - Jim Halpert. Things happen. A/N: Will I ever stop titling my fics after songs? NEVER! I have had this in my WIPs for~ f o r e v e r ~ because chapter 2 is still not finished and I wanted to publish them together, but oh well! Maybe posting this will push me to finish that and get back into writing a bit. I have so many Jamie & Viktor WIPs as well, hopefully soon I'll finish those as well, I haven't written anything properly in a year I think so I am a bit rusty. Hope you like it! ❤❤

Your mood matched the Scranton weather in the past few weeks – gloomy. It was raining in the morning when you pulled into the parking lot before you started the day. You shut the engine down and sighed as you looked at the building.

You have been working for Dunder Mifflin for around six months now, since you moved here. Adjusting to the new city, new job and new coworkers wasn’t easy. Especially the new coworkers. As you were walking towards the entrance you accidentally stepped into a puddle which was deeper than it looked, and that caused your shoes to be soaking wet.

"Great, another fantastic day ahead,” you thought, before heading towards the building. When you stepped inside the office, you said hi to the new receptionist and you quickly walked towards the annex where your desk was located. A few people were already in, sitting at their desks – Dwight, of course always the first one to arrive, Meredith and Angela. And Jim.

“Hey you, good morning!” Hearing his voice made you freeze in your tracks, and you turned around to face him. Even if everything else in Scranton was rainy and gloomy, he was sunshine. He leaned back in his chair while he fiddled with a pen, his smile so bright it could light up a whole town. You felt a strange feeling in your chest.

“Hey, good morning.” You replied shortly and absent-mindedly, being lost in your thoughts.

“Are you alright? You seem preoccupied.” His tone switched to a bit more serious one, you could tell he really cared. He was sweet and you two had nice chats from time to time, but you couldn’t really consider what you two had a friendship. He was a nice colleague.

“Oh yeah, I just need to get these shoes dried up asap” you replied, looking down at your soaked feet. “Good thing I keep my granny slippers under my desk.” Jim chuckled as a response.

“You shouldn’t keep your things next to the electricity plugs. Especially polyester slippers, they are a fire hazard.” You heard Dwight say to you without even looking away from his computer screen, clearly fed up with the little small talk you and Jim had going on. You smiled and nodded at Jim as a signal that you’ll be on your way.

“Good luck,” he said, then turned back to his own work as well.

You plopped down into your chair and kicked off your soaked shoes. Luckily there was nobody in the annex yet, as the others usually arrived later than you. You put on your warm slippers and placed the shoes next to the heater. A heavy sigh escaped your lungs as you leaned on your elbows and buried your face into your palms. The strange feeling in your chest started to ease as you focused your mind back on work instead of your coworker.

As the time passed your other colleagues started to arrive and occupy their desks, as chatter filled the air, distracting you from your duties. You decided it was time to get another cup of coffee before you continued. It didn’t take long for Ryan and Kelly to get on your nerves with their constant fighting, but at least you didn’t have to pay for cable if you wanted to watch some crappy daytime drama.

You stepped into the small kitchen smiling about your own little joke when you noticed him. He also smiled when he looked at you.

“Someone’s in a good mood” he said, gesturing towards you with his own coffee mug in his hand.

“I’m just good at entertaining myself it seems.” You stepped closer to him to get a mug out from the cupboard, which was right next to him. He didn’t move when you opened it and stretched your arm to get your favourite mug from the shelf, the move making your shirt untucked and the skin at your hips exposed a little.

“I would say you are pretty entertaining in general. I’m glad you are feeling better.” You poured yourself a cup of coffee while he was slowly drinking his own. He didn’t seem like he was in a rush.

“You can say that, yes” you replied, your voice getting a little shaky at the end of the sentence when you felt the strange feeling in your chest again. A tingling sensation, starting in your chest then spreading through your veins when he stood so close next to you. “I’m a bit nervous about the quarter deadlines.”

“You are?” he asked with surprise in his voice.

“Of course, I still haven’t reached my targets in sales, and I need to by the end of the week. I also have lots of administration that I still need to do, and I’m just not good at this…” Your words came out of your mouth very quickly, and you felt yourself starting to ramble so to avoid that you quickly took a sip out of your coffee. It tasted horrible.

“Hey” he said in the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard as he put his hand on your forearm. It felt like your brain glitched for a second when his skin touched yours, and even though it was an innocent gesture, you felt the tingling sensation turn into straight up fire in your veins. Your heart started to beat rapidly in your chest, and you weren’t sure that he didn’t notice that. “You’ll do amazing, I know. And if you need anything from me, don’t be afraid to ask. I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you” you said, your voice just a little lower than you wanted it to be. You scratched your throat before you spoke again. “I better get back to work. Complaining here won’t sell that paper.” He chuckled in response, and you took your mug to your table and sat down. You rubbed your eyes and sighed before looking up at your screen. It took you a few minutes to calm your nerves, then you delved back to work.

Probably fifteen minutes after you’ve sat down and the next distraction already arrived. Kelly.

“Soooo…” she started her sentence, sitting on the chair next to you, her eyebrows raised.

“So what?” You asked with genuine curiosity, as you had no idea what she wanted. Have you not sent your customer evaluations yet?

“What is going on with you?”

“With me? Um… nothing?” You cocked your brow at her while searching her face.

“Stop acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” She was basically whisper-shouting at you. And you genuinely had no idea what she meant.

“I’m sorry Kelly, I really have a lot of work that I have to finish, so if you don’t mind-” you started, but she interrupted you.

“Are you and Jim together?” The sudden question surprised you so much that you choked on your own spit. “Don’t be so dramatic, I see through you.”

“Why would you even think that? No, we are not together!” You looked around yourself before speaking, and lowering your voice to make sure no one else could hear what you were discussing. Kelly was not so discreet.

“Don’t play dumb on me, I saw you two in the kitchen earlier having a little moment!”

“A moment? No, no we were just talking about work” you replied and shook your head at her.

“With his hands on your arm? Yeah right” she scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Don’t be silly, that’s just a thing he does. He does that all the time.”

“Yeah, with you!” She snapped back and gave you a knowing look. You furrowed your eyebrows at her in confusion. “He never touched my arm. Or Meredith’s. Or anyone’s other than you.”

“You’re making this up.”

“Why would I?” She scoffed, but you gave her a knowing look and she rolled her eyes. “Okay of course I would, but not this time! I’m just saying you can’t fool me!”

“Yeah, you’re onto me Kelly. Now please, I need to get a lot of work done if I don’t want to get fired. How would I continue my top-secret office romance then?” You asked sarcastically and waved with your hands.

“Okay-okay, no need to be mean about it!” She stood up from the chair and waltzed back to her desk, where she could delve into her own office romance.

What she said didn’t leave your mind though. Was that true? You wouldn’t put it past her to stir up some gossip and drama just for entertainment. But would she really lie to you like that? What would she gain from it? And if she didn’t lie, what did that mean? Somehow you couldn’t decide if you’d prefer her lying or telling the truth.

Even if you were the only one Jim touched like that, that didn’t mean anything. It’s not like you wanted him to touch you like that. At least it was easier to convince yourself of that. This whole thing didn’t make any sense. You came to the conclusion that Kelly was just trying to get a reaction out of you with her story and there’s nothing more to it.

You delved back into work to try to keep your mind off this, you had enough stuff to worry about already. You spent the first half of the afternoon calling clients and trying to get new deals from the old leads you got from your predecessor – lots of them were completely useless. Suddenly you saw the others stand up and head towards the door.

“Aren’t you coming?” You heard Kelly’s voice. “Michael expects everyone in the meeting room.”

“Sure, I’ll be there in a second!” You quickly turned back to your computer and typed in a few things about your last deal before you forgot, then headed after the others. When you looked inside the room you saw most people already in there, Jim included. He waved at you from the last row and gestured at the empty seat next to himself. Your heart fluttered and you made your way over to him.

“Thanks, best seat in the house” you said, smiling.

“Absolutely. maybe this way we can get away without getting into a super awkward Michael Scott skit” he said while he crossed his arms and shot you a mischievous smile.

“Maybe we’ll be safe from that today, who knows. Have faith, Halpert!”

“I think you might be too optimistic on this one! How about a bet?”

“What kind of bet?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“I bet that we won’t get away without an awkward Michael situation.”

“I feel like this is a very risky bet on my part, but oh well. What does the winner get?”

“The loser pays for the others lunch tomorrow.” He answered, smiling.

“Deal” you said and shook his hand. In that second Michael appeared in the meeting room and started talking about the quarter ending soon, and sales. The importance of the relationship with the clients.

Jim was leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, swinging his legs slightly. Ever so slightly that his thigh would touch yours every time he did it. Your heart was beating so loud it was all you could hear. This is stupid. Jim’s chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts.

“So, what do you say? How about a little improv? Who wants to sell me some paper?” Michael asked, and of course nobody answered. Everyone was either rolling their eyes or tried to look the other way so they don’t get picked. You tried to make yourself as small as you could so he wouldn’t pick you.

That’s when you felt the touch of a warm hand on your wrist, and it immediately flew to the air. You shot a horrified look at Jim, who was raising your hand for you.

“Ah, perfect, perfect!” You heard the voice coming from the front of the room, and you mouthed an “I’ll kill you!” at Jim. He just chuckled at you.

“You’ll do great!” He whispered and let go of your hand. You were so baffled you couldn’t even answer or object to being selected. Of course, let’s mess with the new staff. That’s fine.

You walked and stood next to Michael who was giggling like a little kid, being very excited about his improv exercise. As every improv with him, this ended up having a secret agent scene involved, where he would save you from an unknown threat, and that’s why he was disguised as a customer wanting to buy paper. You actually couldn’t be mad at him, because his joy was contagious. However, you were kind of mad at Jim.

You plopped down onto your seat next to him, crossing your arms, not looking his way. He scooched closer to you, his thigh now completely pressed against yours. His touch and closeness made you dizzy. Then he leaned towards you, but you didn’t turn towards him.

“I won” he whispered into your ear, and you felt a chill run down your spine as his breath warmed your skin. You felt heat rise in your body, and you started to feel lightheaded from him being so close to you. You immediately turned your head towards him. He was grinning like a child.

“No, you cheated!”

“Did I? I don’t know about that.”

“Yes, you did. I thought more of you, Halpert. Just text me what you want to eat tomorrow” you said and got up as the meeting ended, and you bolted towards the restroom, locking yourself in a stall.

You let out a shaky breath and you buried your face into your hands. This is nothing. It’s nothing. Damn it, Kelly. Why did she have to say those things? You felt like a schoolgirl with your silly little crush on your coworker, but all these things didn’t leave your mind. But even if it was true, even if Jim liked you, what then? Would you start dating? Would you just continue this office flirting forever? Would you just eventually fuck after an office party and completely forget it the next day?

That thought poisoned your mind with images that you didn’t want to think about, especially not in your workplace’s bathroom. But you couldn’t help it, and you felt the heat rise in your body again.

“Fucking hell” you breathed, shaking your head as if you could just shake those thoughts out. You stood up and left the restroom, heading straight back to your desk, not looking anywhere. You didn’t want to talk to anyone, you just wanted to finish working, go home, where you could work these frustrations out in peace. Yes, that seemed like a good plan. Somewhat good.

The time went by excruciatingly slowly. And it didn’t help that you couldn’t focus on your work because your head was full of thoughts about him. And you couldn’t shake them off. You had to finish your report by tomorrow morning at the latest, so your plan of quickly finishing the job and going home failed spectacularly. People had already started to leave the office as their day ended.

You were somewhat happy that you could work without Kelly and Ryan bothering you all the time, but you definitely were not happy about the thought of you having to be there for who knows how long. You hated overtime, but you couldn’t afford not to finish these reports. You rubbed your eyes and looked back at the screen of your monitor, at the names, addresses, numbers. It all felt so meaningless.

After about an hour of numbers, formulas and spreadsheets, you were done with the first half. You definitely needed to stretch your legs, so you decided to quickly print this before finishing the rest. You stood up from your chair, stretched your back a little and walked to your printer. You felt like the universe was taunting you when you saw the big “ERROR” message on the screen. You threw your head back and let out a dramatic groan before you made your way to the printer in the front of the office.

And then you felt like the universe was playing some kind of a joke on you when you saw Jim sitting at his desk.

Read Part II here.

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!

I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 1

Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.

In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.

You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.

It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.

Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.

Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.

The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.

By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.

“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”

You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.” 

A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.

“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.

Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.

“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.

“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”

“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?” 

Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.” 

You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”

Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”

“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”

“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.” 

She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.

“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”

Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”

You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”

“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass. 

After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.

Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.

Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..

You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.

“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”

Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.

Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”

You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”

“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.

He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table. 

How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen. 

The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.

“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”

You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.

Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that

You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.

He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.

“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”

“He was bullying you.”

“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”

Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”

“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”

“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”

“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..

Only until finals, maybe even sooner.

[edosianorchids901]

A Quiet and Durable Form of Love

Happy Ace Day! Fic and art, also available on AO3! 💜

“Holmes, what’s wrong?” Watson asked, voice soft.

Holmes pressed his fingers harder against his temple, trying to take slow, calming breaths. Allowing himself to become upset would not assist with his headache in the slightest. “I’m all right.”

“You don’t look all right. You look as if you’re in considerable pain.”

“Mm.” Thinking about it only drew more attention to the steady, relentless throbbing on the left side of his head. He leaned back in his chair, still attempting to relax, and let out a heavy sigh. “Admittedly, it is a little inconvenient. I had hoped to pursue one or two possible leads in connection with that attempted murder this morning, but I think it shall prove necessary to wait.”

“Well, now I’m really worried.” The clink of a full teacup against a saucer provided the alert that Watson was, indeed, quite worried. Otherwise, he would have taken a drink first. “I didn’t realize you had a case. You don’t look like you have a case.”

“Well, well, I don’t have a case yet.” Wincing, Holmes opened his eyes. His fringe dangled across them, and he smoothed it off to one side. “It is merely a conjecture, judging by the attitude of the newspapers. This stretch of tedium has continued for such a miserable length of time that I had considered starting to investigate before my services are requested.”

“But not now.” Watson was studying him with the eye of both doctor and friend now, assessing both his physical state and how badly this had impacted his mood. “Is it the same sort of headache you’ve been getting?”

“Indeed. Exceedingly irritating, but no cause for concern.” The headaches seemed to be a lingering response to the strain of his years in hiding. He had at first hoped that they would cease once he returned home, but months later, that didn’t seem to be the case. “As I have no wish to be incapacitated when the case does come my way, I believe it is more advantageous to rest for at least the morning.”

“I quite agree, old man. You look exhausted.” Brow creased with worry, Watson poured another cup of coffee and slid it to Holmes. “Here, this ought to help. With the headache, not the exhaustion. I know it doesn’t do much to wake you up.”

“Quite.” Holmes flicked a smile in response. “Thank you, Watson.”

He drank the coffee, which did at least taste good. It wouldn’t wake him up effectively, as it mostly helped him to focus, but the caffeine still provided provide a little stimulation in a way that would not worry Watson. This ongoing bout of lethargy had led him to the cocaine bottle a little too often of late.

Watson worried about a great many of Holmes’ tendencies, and yet accepted him for who he was. It was a remarkable thing, to be accepted and loved so unconditionally. It did not matter how irritable Holmes became, or how relentless in pursuit of a case, or even that he had vanished entirely for three years. Watson was still here, just as he had been for decades, steadfast as ever.

Setting one elbow on the table, Holmes rested his chin in his hand and simply gazed at Watson. The good doctor had returned to his meal, eating with considerable zest, just as he always did. He ate, loved, wrote, and went about his work with the utmost earnestness, wholly devoted to whatever task lay before him.

Holmes’ own habits were more narrow, constricted. Passion drove him in his work, but not in any human relations, nor in the daily necessities of life. To eat, sleep, and so on were simply impediments to his work. He had once thought of love in the same way.

He still did not think of it in the same fashion as most of the world, nor experience the same urges. Passion was certainly not a word to describe how he felt towards anyone, not even Watson, who he cared for more than anyone.

The mere thought of intimate touch continued to repel him, an attitude that had certainly not changed with age. Romantic feelings remained abhorrent as well, love a strange sentiment that he studied from afar as it intersected with his cases, but not one that he could ever comprehend. It was not his nature.

And yet, there was a certain tenderness in his heart towards those he cared for, a gentle affection that only deepened with time, and that was developing into a new partnership of sorts with Watson. Perhaps that was a kind of love itself, if not the ones most valued by society.

Watson glanced up from his breakfast and smiled. “What’s that look, old man?”

More than he was entirely certain how to put into words, particularly with the onslaught of a migraine that made communication still more difficult than it already was for him by nature. Holmes gave a quick twitch of a smile. “I am being glad that I still have you, after all that’s happened.”

“I am yours, always,” Watson said in his unselfconscious, earnest fashion.

“I know.” Holmes struggled for something else to say, something that would convey the depths of his affection for this remarkable man. Something meaningful. “Would you like to cuddle?”

Watson’s eyes widened, and he gave a brief, startled laugh. “To cuddle?”

“Mm. I know you are fond of touch, and I am not entirely opposed to it where you are concerned.” This was perhaps not the most ordinary means of expressing love, but Holmes did not feel ordinary love. “It is comfortable for me to be near you.”

Suddenly looking as if he might cry, Watson smiled. “Thank you, Holmes. I should be delighted. I feel very much the same way.”

“Ah! Cuddling is pleasant for you?” Holmes hesitated for a moment, uncertain of himself. “And an acceptable substitute for certain… affections that I cannot offer in this little partnership?”

“Very much so.” Briefly, Watson blushed. “To tell the truth, I much prefer cuddling to any of those other ‘affections’. Our partnership suits me very well. Perfectly, in fact.”

“Excellent! Perhaps we might remove to the settee?” Holmes gestured towards it, and tried to rise. Immediate pain stabbed into his head, and he grunted as he pressed a hand to his temple again. “Dear me.”

“Easy, old man.” Watson, who had risen more successfully, touched his arm with such gentleness that the contact was not startling in the least. “I think it might be a good idea for you to lie down.”

“I wish to cuddle, Watson!”

“I wish to cuddle too, Holmes.” Watson smiled again, corners of his eyes crinkling fondly. “Perhaps you could lie down with your head in my lap. Does that sound comfortable?”

“Mm. My head does ache considerably.” Holmes glanced at Watson’s thigh. “And you are likely an adequate pillow.”

“I cannot think of anything better to be,” Watson said with a chuckle, offering his hand.

Holmes took it, allowing himself to be helped up and ushered to the settee. Moving brought on a slight chill, and he was glad of the scarf he’d draped around his neck again after changing. A heavier scarf would not help his headache, but the light warmth of this one was soothing.

Soon, he was settled in place on the settee, his head resting on Watson’s thigh. The good doctor looked immensely pleased with the entire scenario, and beamed at him as he skimmed a hand across Holmes’ hair. “How is that, Holmes?”

“It is excellent, Watson.” Holmes let out a long, tired sigh. “I really am very glad of your presence.”

Gentle as ever, Watson rested his other hand on Holmes’ chest and smiled down at him. “As I am of yours.”

Smiling despite the headache, Holmes closed his eyes and relaxed as Watson stroked his hair. No, he had no desire for the passions that were so highly praised by most, nor did he feel the things they did. His was a quieter love, if it could be called that, and yet one that had endured. There was nothing better than to be with his Watson, whether on a case or merely relaxing together on a lazy, quiet morning.

[polaroidpascal]

paradise city || joel miller

AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : guitarist!joel x f!reader

summary : when you and your friends go out to a bar to see a local band gig, you can’t help but notice how the guitarist’s eyes somehow keep finding you in the crowd.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, i imagine joel is in his early 40s, no age gap mentioned, mention of reader’s breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel starts off a little shy but truly there ain’t nothing shy about this man, size kink (kinda?? a little bit??) oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dom!joel, joel gets a little possessive (you’ll see what i mean…), praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ofc

fic playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0afpHjoOFylI01OTbV5jol

(picture joel playing during the guitar solos in every single one of these songs 😁)

WC : 7.9k… (no one look at me. not a single soul.)

a/n : 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! i apologize in advance for all the song lyrics i’ve scattered in this fic… i opted to make a playlist of the songs i think joel’s band would play but there were just too many good ones to pass up and i was losing it a little bit 🫠 also, shoutout to @joelsdagger for constantly yapping with me about this idea and letting me tease her about this absolute menace of a man and also @haileymorelikestupid for beta reading for me 🥹😭 it feels extremely fitting to post a joel fic on international women’s day where he fucks you so good, so i hope y’all enjoy !! <3

You and your friends have had a week. 

Deciding you all needed a night to let loose and have fun together, your friend Erica found out about this place hosting a local rock cover band called Fetters Whiskey and thought it might be nice to come see them.

Earlier, you had all piled into the Uber and were headed out, a low girly chatter filling the car. The three in the back harped on about their spouses and all the little things that annoyed them. 

“He left the dishes in the drying rack!” “She helped me clean a little too well and used all the cleaner, now we’re all out!”

The complaining did help them destress a bit.

You and Erica were in the second row captain’s chairs of the car, the three in the back doing their pregame de-stressing. “Makes you rethink the whole marriage fantasy, huh?” she jokes, looking over at you playing with the rings on your fingers. 

You look up and breathe a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” you say with a weak smile.

“Well… have you had any luck finding anyone?” she asks sweetly, sincerely. Genuinely hoping someone has caught your eye.

You had a pretty nasty breakup a while ago, probably about eight months by now. You two had been dating for a while and the breakup honestly seemed to come out of nowhere, like some switch flipped one day and nothing was really the same. Your friends stuck by you through every up and down you had. You felt really lucky to have them.

“No. not yet,” you tell her.

“Well, maybe tonight’s your night,” she says with a friendly smile. “You deserve to unwind and let loose a little, y’know what I mean?” You breathe another laugh. “You do!” she exclaims, hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see,” you say, the rest of the car ride seeming to fly by, a part of you kinda hoping she’s right.

The bar is crowded. 

You walk in, snaking the group between the crowd and making your way near the stage towards the back of the bar, men and women alike all brushing bodies the closer you get to the stage, drinks in hand, friends chattering away, everyone waiting for the show. 

Two of your coworkers disappear to fetch everyone a drink while you and the others stake claim on a little area near the stage. A couple of guys are on the stage setting up the instruments and making sure everything is plugged in right, the lights dimmed enough to not really draw much attention to them. It’s not long before the others join them on stage and start playing. The girls return just in time, handing out the drinks as the music starts.

The band is pretty good (you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re more than pleased with how good they sound). They play some fan favorites like Wanted Dead or Alive and I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, and they mix in some random fun songs like Play That Funky Music. 

The drummer is clearly in his own world, head moving at a velocity you would think could give him whiplash. And he’s absolutely killing it, hitting every beat with fervor. You can feel the strikes of the sticks on his drums in the center of your chest. 

Another guy seems to be the swiss army knife musician: pretty good at almost everything, filling in wherever he’s needed depending on the song. One minute, he’s playing his keyboard and the next, he’s busting out a trumpet, and the next, he’s busting out a guitar. And no matter what he’s playing, he’s playing it with passion. 

The lead singer clearly loves all of the attention he gets. He’s feeding off the crowd’s energy like a cat lounging in the sunlight, basking in every cheer and whistle and fist pumping in the air from the crowd. He practically lives at the edge of the stage, crouching down to sing with the girls but backing up to sing and dance with his bandmates too, bringing them in on some of the harmonies and tying the whole show together.

But by far the unsung hero of this group is the lead guitarist. He hides off to the corner, leg posted up on his amp with the body of his guitar resting slightly on his thigh. He looks down at the instrument carefully watching his fingers strum each cord perfectly, furrowing his brow in concentration during his solos and lifting his head up to the sky. He looks like he feels every note in his blood, expressing it through the expert strum of his fingertips on the strings. He doesn’t have a mic and the singer doesn’t make him sing alongside him very much, but you catch him mouthing all the words and getting into the singing as well. 

He’s a particularly pretty man and your eyes linger on him more than the others, always finding their way back to him, and always during the more raunchy lines of the different songs…

Well, I am imagining // A dark lit place // Or your place on my place

I’ma paint his town red // Then paint his wife white

But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears // By now, no doubt we’re heading south // I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth

…but who can blame you when he has such a reserved, cool vibe. Plus, did you mention that he’s really pretty too?

And maybe it’s the couple of drinks getting to you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it seems like every time you look at him, he’s looking away from you. Like he’d been staring and you caught him. You swear he starts to look ever so slightly more flushed, but it’s practically impossible to see with the colored lights flooding the scene. No, you think, that’s crazy. You’re standing in a crowd of people, there’s no way he—

“Hey, I think the guy on lead guitar keeps checking you out!” Erica exclaims over the loud music and singing crowd.

You turn and look at her, eyebrows raised before you turn back to the stage. He does it again, averting his gaze the second he sees you look and you feel a flutter in your chest. He really is checking me out, huh?

You keep staring at him, waiting for him to look back in hopes that you’re looking away. When he lets his eyes wander back to you, you’re still staring. This time, though, he doesn’t look away. His eyes won’t let him now that you’ve caught his attention — like a fly in a spider web.

He turns his body ever so slightly, facing your direction more than anyone else as he plays the rest of the song. The lights focus on him, colorful spotlights of red and blue illuminating his face as he positively shreds his guitar solo. His fingers expertly tap dance across the neck of his guitar, his other hand working double time to strum on beat and hit every single note. You watch in a complete daze as he finishes, sealing off his musical escapade with the smuggest wink right to you.

He put on a show. All just for you.

Something stirs in your belly, a low heat kindling as the band continues to play. Their next song — god, their next song… — really puts the icing on the cake.

The jack of all trades band member busts out a sound board, the sampled sound of a snare drum filling the space, a warped, funky-sounding instrumental following.

You let me violate you // You let me desecrate you // You let me penetrate you // You let me complicate you

The guitarist shares a mic with the guy on the sound board, offering back-up vocals for the song. He’s getting a little bold now, you think.

I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell // (Help me) the only thing that works for me // Help me get away from myself

He’s locked eyes with you the whole time, changing the tides of who is winning this staring battle for dominance. Each second his gaze stays on you, you feel smaller and smaller, completely at his mercy. He backs away from the mic, preparing to play and licking his lips in a manner obviously made to make you even dizzier than you already are.

I wanna fuck you like an animal  // I wanna feel you from the inside  // I wanna fuck you like an animal // My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God

He glances back at you from his guitar, a smirk decorating his face before he turns to keep playing the song. You’re in a complete daze. He’s clearly won this battle, and you don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore.

You have to have this man.

Erica caught a some of his little show for you, watching him wink at you and the way your features fell to a focused stare at him. “Girl, get a room next time!” she teases and all you can do is smile back.

When the set is over, you and your friends walk back towards the bar, not wanting to leave just yet. You claim a few of the tiny standing tables, again gathered with Erica at one while the other girls try to cluster around another.

“So…” she starts, giving you a look of anticipation.

“So…?”

“What the hell was going on between you and that guitarist?” she asks, her tone of voice high with excitement.

You laugh, looking down and shrugging your shoulders. “I honestly have no idea,” you say, shaking your head and blushing a little thinking about his little performance. “I thought I was crazy until you said something.”

“Well, whatever it was, you should go for him!” she encourages.

“Please,” you scoff and laugh, “you’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m serious! While you were having your little… whatever you were having, I was watching the whole band, and the other guys weren’t doing what he did. And he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at you.”

You stare at her, a blush creeping up on your cheeks and that small fire in your belly growing a little bigger, a little hotter.

Erica looks up over your shoulder, “Oh my gosh, there they are!”

As if on cue, the band walks through one of the back doors. Having just put away their instruments and whatever other equipment they brought. They saunter in, hair wet from the sweat of performing and lifting all their stuff back into their van. Trailing behind the rest is that damn guitarist. He scans the crowd before he sees you, his expression opening with a bit of an urgency as he quickly finds the bar to grab a beer.

You turn back to Erica, mouth dry and nervous. “Please, you have to go talk to him,” she practically begs.

“No, I- I can’t. I don’t even know what to say,” you plead. “I’m so out of practice.”

“Oh, quit it. I saw you looking at him first. You had him going before he got bold with you. You still have game, go get that man!” she says.

“I don’t know, Erica—” you start, but youre quickly caught off by a tap to your shoulder. You turn around and it’s him.

“Hi,” you say, desperately trying to hide the nerves threatening your vocal chords and smile genuinely at him.

“Hi there,” he says. God, his voice is so deep. You couldn’t hear it in all of its beauty before, but it has a bass to it that rumbles in your bones.

You stare blankly at him for a second before you finally pipe up, “Um, that was a good set you guys played.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, looking down at his beer and leaning against the edge of the table.

Erica watches with wide eyes before announcing, “Well, I’m empty. I’m gonna go get a refill, okay?” She winks as she walks away leaving you and this mysterious guitarist alone together.

You turn your gaze back to him and fully take in his features now. His eyes have their own glow to them that persists even with the dim stage lights littered around this bar. His hair is patchy from sweat but still sits pretty. His strong features demand your eyes and you’re unable to look anywhere but him.

He extends his hand out to you, “Name’s Joel.”

“Hi, Joel,” you say, shaking his hand and telling him your name. He echoes it and it sounds beautiful off his tongue. “Listen, I--”

“Y’know, you’ve got one of those faces that stands out in a crowd, anyone ever told you that?”

You shake your head, “No, not necessarily.”

“Well trust me, we’ve played our share of shows and none of them had a pretty girl like you in the audience catchin’ my eye every two seconds.”

You blush, starting to gather your mind back from the sudden thrust into a conversation with who you think might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life now that you’ve had time to really study his features up close. “You’re no different yourself,” you offer.

“How so?”

“I’m just saying, you’d think the prettiest member would be the one front and center, not tucked in a corner by an amp.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between your own not breaking contact as he takes another sip of his beer. “I don’t want just anyone lookin’ my way, I guess. You gotta work to see this pretty face.”

“Pretty, indeed,” you agree, stepping ever so slightly closer to him. “You put on quite a show up there.”

He leans down just a bit, closing the gap between the two of you even more, “Well, I did have quite the eager audience, didn’t I?” he asks.

You stare at each other for a moment before Joel starts, never breaking eye contact, “Listen, I don’t really do this… but I also don’t get distracted like I did tonight…”

You inch closer to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah… your friends bring you here?” he asks and you glance at the other table where Erica lingers around your other friends and they’re all looking your way, trying not to be obvious and failing miserably.

“No, we took an Uber.”

“Well, what do you say to savin’ that money you’d pay for an Uber and lettin’ me take you home instead?”

Am I really gonna do this?, you think. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you may want, but the way Joel is looking at you, the way he put on a show just for you, how he spotted you in the crowd to strike up a conversation… Erica did say I need to unwind and let loose…

You grin back at him, “Whose home are we talking about?” you ask.

“I think you know, darlin’,” his tone drops low and deep.

A shiver runs up your spine, that ever-growing fire in your belly burning hotter and hotter. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his, making it look miniscule in comparison, and walks you towards the back door he came through earlier. You glance back to the bar, the girls still watching and Erica flashing you a smile and a thumb’s up.

Joel leads you to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. You see the backseat loaded with what must be his personal equipment before his door creaks open and he sits inside, the whole truck bobbing from the sheer size of this man.

He pulls you closer across the bench seat until your legs are touching, his hand snaking around your waist as you relax against his figure and his hands trace your sides.

“I meant what I said, y’know. That you stand out in a crowd.”

You turn to look at him as he quickly glances at you and you slowly bring your arms up, one landing behind his neck while the other cups his face. You slowly, softly, tenderly kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck leaving open mouth kisses all over. He tilts his head to the side just a little, humming at the feeling and settling his hand right at the swell of your hip, pulling you even closer into his side and squeezing just a bit.

The drive isn’t long at all. He pulls into a parking spot lining the side of the road and once the car is safely in park, he grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply. You hum into his mouth, not expecting the sudden movement, and melt into his lips. His soft, warm lips. Your hands trace his body, the two of you unable to get where you want to be from sitting in this truck.

You pull away from him. “Take me inside.”

He immediately leaves the truck urging you to hop out on his side, offering a hand to help you out but not letting go even typing the code for his apartment and after you walk through the door.

You giggle as he pulls you up the stairs of his complex, the two of you itching to have your hands all over one another. You reach the top and he twirls you around in his grip, grabbing you with one hand by the hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He kisses you with an insatiable hunger, like his life absolutely depends on it, as he backs you up until you’re pinned to the door with his entire body pressed against you. 

He fumbles with his keys for the lock to his apartment door, lips locked onto you, eyes closed, lost in the soft sweetness of your lips. He snakes a hand behind the curve of your back to brace you as the door swings open and he pushes you inside.

Your hands tangle in his hair grabbing the soft, damp strands unable to pull him any closer but wanting every inch of him in your mouth, on your lips, practically in your skin. You bite his lower lip making him moan a little into your mouth and your hands reach around to his face, wanting to stay lost in the ocean of his tongue and cheeks forever.

He pulls you back and you whine, already missing the warmth and taste of his tongue, but your disappointment is short lived. “God, darlin’… Need to have you.” he says, voice low and completely feral as he grabs you under the swell of your ass and you jump into his embrace. Your hands wander back up to his hair, pulling and grabbing as he trails his kisses down your chin, your jaw, your neck, soft sounds escaping his lips with every tug and whimper you give him.

His legs mindlessly take him to his bedroom, knowing the pathway instinctively. His mouth leaves your body for just a moment when plops you down at the edge of the bed, but he’s right back on you in an instant, reaching down to the hem of your top. You lift your arms for him to pull it off and he removes it in one fluid motion. He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra next. “This okay?”

Your chest aches with these little moments of tender sweetness from him and you nod, letting him remove your bra and he does so with skill, not fumbling for even a second as he tosses it to the floor.

His eyes immediately dart down, taking you in. He’s all but drooling, his gaze burning hot against your skin. He sinks to his knees taking one tit in his mouth and sucking on your nipple. Your hands immediately run through his hair holding him onto you and humming at the feel of his mouth on you. His other hand grabs your other tit, massaging it and thumbing your growing bud before redirecting his mouth to the other side too.

His hands drop to your sides and run up along your ribcage trailing towards your back, closing you in and burying his face into your neck peppering kisses and licks and nips there. 

“I gotta have you, baby…” he mutters into your neck. “Lay back on my pillows up there.”

You do as you’re told, lounging against his pillows and the headboard of the bed as he pulls his shirt off over his head and crawls up to meet you, hooking his hands in the belt loops of your jeans. He looks up, his gaze silently asking for permission and you nod. He pulls them down along with your panties in one smooth motion.  

You didn’t think about how worked up you had gotten until your hot core, slick with your arousal, meets the cool air of the room sending a chill across your skin. You watch as Joel’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, subconsciously licking his lips and softly grunting at the thought of diving in.

You open your legs wider, inviting him in and he settles between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs locking you right where he wants you, all spread and open for him.

He immediately gets to work, unable to hold back anymore and expertly licks through your folds. His warm, wet tongue feels amazing on you as it dances across every nerve ending down there, each one sending fireworks across your skin. You whine and lean back, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth and squirming under his face.

His hands gently rub your thighs while he drinks you down, his nose occasionally hitting your clit making you whine. He draws flattened circles with his tongue, the surface area hitting you just right. 

“Yes… fuck yes, that feels so good…” you moan.

He moans back, unwilling to leave you for even a moment and he keeps going. One hand falls from your thigh and you keep yourself open for him as best as you can when you feel his thick, calloused fingers teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in easily, so he adds his ring finger too, curling up and finding the softest parts of you. But God, are his fingers huge.

Your walls constrict squeezing his fingers and you leak more slick all over his palm. His other fingers flay across your lips and ass, gripping you slightly and he’s got you locked down. 

His tongue continues at your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, the tips curling up and stroking you perfectly. 

“Right there, Joel… right there… don’t stop… please, don’t stop…” You feel yourself getting closer and closer, the flame burning in your belly all night erupting into a wildfire and igniting every inch of your skin. You feel a tightness start to grow in your belly, inching down your insides as he keeps going, and going, and going, never letting up and reveling in each twitch of your body.

You look up and see him lying flat, his hips subconsciously moving against his boxers and jeans and sheets, getting himself off just from your taste. Finally, he opens his eyes, dark with lust and locks his gaze with you with one especially deep push and curl of his fingers and another wink. That fucking wink. 

“Fuck… fuck…!” It sends you over the edge. The coil snaps and a warm flood fills your body spilling out onto Joel’s hand and into his waiting mouth. He grunts and whines, his tongue never stopping, not even for a second, as he drinks every ounce of your slick getting drunk on your juices.

He only pulls away when you pull him off by his hair, a single line if your arousal still connecting him to you and a groan leaving his lips as he lets you go. You fall back onto the pillow, legs collapsing from their own weight and twitching from your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Joel sits up licking his palm and bringing his fingers up to your mouth, jaw slacked and panting. Your mouth closes around his fingers and he groans, “That’s it, good girl,” he coos and you hum around his digits.

When you fully come back down to Earth, you can’t help but chuckle in the afterglow of your orgasm. Joel rests on his heels gently stroking your knees and you cover your eyes with your forearm, one big sigh leaving your lips. “I guess I should have expected a guitar player to have some skilled fingers,” you joke and Joel chuckles. “That was so fucking good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not done with you just yet, pretty girl,” Joel teases, holding out his hand to help you sit up. You do and he meets you with a sweet kiss, his hands cupping almost all of your face as he kisses you sweetly.

When he pulls away and you open your eyes, you notice another amp sitting in the corner of the room. This one looks old, unused, and the cable management could use some work, to say the least.

Joel follows your eyeline. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“That’s a lot of cables for a little speaker like that,” you say, following the tangled mess of wires scattered on the floor. “Why don’t you use that one?”

“Jus’ got old. Bought a new one and I didnt need it anymore.”

A depraved idea pops in your head and the question leaves your lips before you can even fully think it through. “Those wires… how strong do you think they are?”

Joel looks back at your face, eyebrow cocked up slightly, “What d'ya mean?”

Your bashfulness catches up quick, a shy blush pricking your cheeks. “I mean… just the outside looks braided, almost… it kinda looks like… I don’t know, kinda like a rope…”

His face softens, a look of intrigue spreading across his gaze. “Go on,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, dripping with sultry tease.

You look up through your lashes feeling more vulnerable that you have to ask specifically (he seems to love it, though). “Well… I guess, how well do you think they’d hold a knot…?”

He bites back a smirk but can’t quite hide his excitement. “Kinky…” he says with a little nod. “I like it.”

He rises from the bed but he doesn’t turn to grab the wires. Instead, he reaches for his belt, the buckle clinking against itself. “But you gotta earn it first, sweet girl.” He pulls his belt out of the loops of his jeans and tosses it to the side. 

He pauses a second before reaching for the button and zipper, enough time for you to crawl to the foot of the bed and rest your hands on his. You slowly move them away and take over, undoing his button and slowly zipping his pants apart. 

You reach under his groin cupping his covered balls in your hand and he hums. He barely fits in your palm and you salivate at what could be beneath those boxers of his. You look up at him with another gentle squeeze before pulling both down, his cock springing out and up against his lower tummy as he steps out of his pants, the tip already red and leaking.

Your eyes widen when you really take in his size and you salivate. You wrap your hand around him and very slowly pump his length, getting a feel for his size and weight and staring at him the whole time.

He looks down at you, eyes still dark and mouth slightly open. “Go ‘head, baby. Kiss it.”

You feel a flutter in your belly again already and you do as he says, kissing the slit before taking the whole head into your mouth and circling your tongue around it. His eyes roll back and he lifts his head up to the ceiling with a groan, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.

You slowly take him inch by inch making him slick with your spit and using your hand to pump whatever you cant reach. Your other hand gently squeezes his balls and you feel his grip on your hair tighten a bit.

“That’s it, baby… Mouth feels so good f’me…” He starts to slowly push you down his length, taking him deeper and deeper and being careful not to get ahead of himself. 

But then you moan around his length sending lightning up his spine and it feels so fucking good… A guttural groan booms from his chest and he starts to slip, pushing you a little too far a little too fast and you gag, pulling off until it just rests on your bottom lip, spit gathering at his tip and spilling over the corners of your mouth. 

Tears prick the sides of your eyes and his hand reaches down to wipe them away. “Shit— I’m sorry… are you alright?”

You cough and catch your breath, something new and hot burning through your veins. Something about the way he lost all control… “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say when you pull yourself together a little bit. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach up to slowly pump his length again. “Let me try again.”

“You sure, darlin’?”

“I’m sure,” you say, looking up through your tear-soaked lashes, a small smile ghosting your lips as you nod. 

He nods back and you take him in your mouth again, closing your eyes and breathing through it, trying to focus on taking as much of him down your throat as you can.

His hands find the back of your head again, not pushing anymore but tangling through your hair as you work.

He looks down and sees your eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration and taking him so well. He drops a hand back down to your jaw, “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”

You carefully open your eyes to look up at him and when you do, his brows furrow with desperation, unable to look away from you as you bob up and down his length, hands once again pumping the length you can’t reach and massaging his balls.

“Shit, baby… that’s it…” he moans, watching the way your cheeks hollow and lips flush red from taking him. He’s twitching in your mouth and you think you’ve got him, flattening your tongue when he touches the back of your throat and swirling up his length as you pull back.

His abs start to tighten and you taste the slightly salty precum leaking from his tip. You work up the nerve to suppress your gag reflex as best you can, taking a few deep breathes before pushing yourself all the way down, taking his cock up to the hilt.

You stay there, letting your protesting throat constrict around him and he whines, his hand in your hair tightening and making you moan, another bolt of lightning taking over his entire being. His cock jumps in your throat and you think he’s a goner for sure—

He pulls you off his length completely and you gasp for air while he catches his breath too. “Nuh uh, baby. It can’t be over yet,” he says breathlessly.

You pout up at him, your doe eyes almost black from how blown your pupils are.

“Get back on the bed,” he demands.

So you do, rising a little wobbly from your knees and crawling back up onto the bed. Joel walks to the corner of the room and unplugs some of the cords plugged into the old amp. 

He digs around in his nightstand and pulls out a condom before walking back over to the bed where you’re kneeling on the mattress. He sees you eyeing the little packet pinched between his fingers. “What’s th’ matter?”

You look at him, a blush forming on your face. “Oh, I…” Your mouth goes dry and you clear your throat. “…um, you don’t— I mean, I’m on the pill so, um… If you don’t wanna…” you ramble, trying to find your words but failing in your shyness.

He smiles smugly, tossing the condom to the side. “’S okay. I hear you loud and clear.”

You take a relieved breath and watch him stand there as he starts separating the wires. He twirls his finger in the air and you turn your body to face away from him.

“Gimme your hands, darling,” he says, firmly but gently.

You obey, reaching your hands behind your back. His giant hand easily fits both in one grip and he wraps one cable around your wrists.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, facing away from Joel so he can’t see, but you’re sure it’s audibly obvious when you ask “So this must be where the band name came from then, hm?” as he ties a comfortable knot around your wrists.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Fetters. Like restraints. Usually they’re on the ankles but I guess it’s the same principle.”

He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t help with the name all that much, but I guess ya’ really do learn somethin’ new every day,” he says just as he tightens the loose, but still restrictive, knot around your wrists.

You shimmy in them a little, surprised at how well they hold together. His hands are still there, rubbing over the covering of the cords and brushing against the warmth of your skin.

“These look real pretty on you, y’know,” he mutters from behind you.

You chuckle and ask, “You tell all the groupies that?”

He grabs your chin to face him, eyes scanning over your face for a second and planting a kiss to your lips before a positively devious smirk spreads across his face. Before you know it, he puts his hand on your back gently pushing down so your chest hits the bed. 

“No, I don’t,” he says and you hear his footsteps fade. You sit there, face pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, desperately trying to crane your neck to see where in the world he’s going leaving you like this, all out in the open and exposed.

He treads back into the room and climbs back onto the bed right behind you, calves brushing up against the inside of your own as he grabs your hips to straighten them.

“I don’t tell the groupies nothin’,” he starts. “Usually jus’ ask if they want an autograph.”

The unmistakable click of a Sharpie cap rings in your ears and you feel the cold tip of the pen dragging along the skin right below the small of your back. You gasp, surprised at the unexpected feeling, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man, and you can’t help the butterflies it gives you, the way you mewl so quietly at the thought of him marking you with his name — his signature, no less — in such an intimate place.

You need to find a way to keep this man.

The pen trails off at the end and he recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere to the side before you feel his hands smoothing over your hips. He lets out a low toned, one-note whistle at you, staring at the dark ink branding your lower back. “Now, what a pretty view I have,” he says, a tantalizing, saccharine sweet tone lacing his words.

You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth at his teasing, his big warm hands rubbing big circles over each cheek. 

He sees you clenching around nothing. “Want me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

“Yes, please,” you whine, earning you a light tap on your ass.

He pulls on the cords and wraps an arm around your torso, bringing you up flush to his torso and reaching a hand to your mouth. “Gimme some help.”

You spit into his hand and he hums in content. “Atta girl,” he says, gently laying you back down and pumping his length with the wetness. You feel the tip of his cock rub against your folds and you squirm. He grabs your hip with his free hand as he lines himself up to notch right at your entrance. He slowly pushes just the tip in, the pressure making you moan.

“I gotcha, baby. Jus’ relax f’me,” he coos, pushing inch by inch into you letting you adjust to his size. Your walls twitch at the intrusion and your breathing gets heavier, soft sounds escaping your lips. Eventually, he’s up to the hilt and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. You subconsciously swirl your hips, the movement inside making you whine.

“Shit, baby… so fuckin’ tight…” Joel breathes, squeezing your hips and trying not to lose his cool too quickly. His cock bounces and he grunts, taking a minute before slowly pulling out of you as you whine at the loss. It’s short lived, though, because he’s immediately pushing back into you, the stretch and burn pulling a desperate groan from your throat. 

“Fuck yeah, baby. You like how that feels?” he moans, picking up the pace slightly with each thrust. 

“Yes— fuck, feels so good…” you moan. The way his cock drags along your walls makes your belly burn hot. His grip on your hips tight and threatening to bruise if he squeezes any harder, but you couldn’t care less. Just another way for him to mark you as his.

“Squeezin’ my cock so good… she’s achin’, baby…” He’s very talkative, you think and decide to play into it. 

“She’s all yours, Joel. Pussy belongs to you,” you say as you squeeze him again, the pressure in your belly growing with each gentle kiss to your cervix that his tip gives you. 

You feel his pace falter for a second, his grip tightening at that. “Yeah? Say it again. Who’s she belong to?” he says, pounding into you now, unable to keep control of his pace anymore.

You whine loudly with one of his thrusts when he drags up a bit hitting something new inside of you, something your ex surely hadn’t ever found before. Something you definitely had on your own but never this deep…

“Theeere it is,” he coos, pressing your torso down some more to get the angle just right and he’s hitting that soft, spongy part of you with every snap of his hips. You can barely form the words to tell him how fucking good it feels, nonsense whimpers leaving your mouth instead.

“Answer me, baby… Belongs to who?” His pace doesn’t let up and you can’t get the words out. “C’mon, you can do it, gorgeous… tell me…” he insists, slowly rubbing his hand across his own signature that’s been staring back at him.

“Sh… fuck, oh my god… she belongs to you, Joel…”

“That’s my good girl,” he says, leaning down and planting kisses down your spine, snaking a hand around to your front and circling your clit.

You cry out in pleasure, all the sensations getting to be too much. A flood of wetness spills out with a twitch of your insides making Joel’s cock slippery, letting him push in and pull out easier than before. He picks up his pace again with ease, rapidly hurdling you towards the edge.

My good girl…

That one little word finally hits you after a minute. 

My.

His unrelenting fingers on your clit… the way his tip hits your cervix with every snap of his hips… my good girl… it’s all too much. “Fuck… fuck… fuck, ‘mgonnacome…” you mumble in a high pitched whine.

“Fuck yes, baby… come all over my cock, that’s it… feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’…” he moans from behind you, the grip on your hips definitely bruising now as he keeps pounding into you. Your back arches and your whole body writhes as your walls squeeze him impossibly tight. Your vision blurs and you have no control over the downright pornographic sounds escaping your mouth. All you feel is warmth everywhere.

“Holy shit—” you hear Joel but he sounds far away, your head still spinning with pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, baby…” When you feel like you can finally see again, you see a wet spot on the bed and your eyes go wide, quickly craning your head around as best you can and see Joel’s thighs soaked from you.

“Oh, shit— I-I’m sorry, oh my fucking god, I didn’t meant—” you stop mid sentence when Joel plows into you again bottoming out completely, your words trailing off into a wailing moan.

He drags out slowly but quickly regains his momentum. “Fuck, baby… Chokin’ my dick so good… So. Fucking. Hot,” he says, punctuating his words with the slap of his hips on your ass.

Your legs start to give out under you and it’s like Joel already knows you’re almost too gone to take anymore as he unties the knot at your wrists, your arms falling to the bed. He flips you over, managing to stay inside, and lays you on your back. Your hair lays messily on the pillow and Joel leans down to fix it, tracing his fingers along the side of your face and kissing you deeply.

When he pulls away, he stares at your fucked-out eyes, his own completely taken over by his pupils so much that you can barely tell what color they actually are anymore. “Baby, you gotta give me one more…” he begs.

You raise your eyebrows worriedly, unsure if you can actually take anymore. You whine at his ask and he gives you another quick kiss, resting his forehead against your own when he pulls away, your lips barely touching. He’s moving in and out of you at a snail’s pace, so close to his own orgasm that any extra movement would cause him to snap. “Please, baby, I know you can do it. Doin’ so good for me already, just one more…”

You nod weakly and stare through hooded eyes. “Thank you, angel,” he sighs, gently fucking into you a little quicker and peppering kisses at the corners of your mouth. Your hands trail up to his shoulders rubbing up and down on his soft skin. Forehead pressed to yours again, you feel him panting, small moans and whimpers filling your ears.

“Feel so good…” you use all your strength to whimper out, barely above a whisper. His eyes open, brows furrowed in desperation. You feel him twitching hard now, so close to his own orgasm but not wanting this to end.

“S’good, Joel… so big…” He whimpers at your words, his hips moving erratically, unpredictably. He’s close, you think. And it eggs you on.

“Want you to come for me… Please…”

“Yeah? You want it?” he breathes. 

“Please…” you say again in a whimper, grabbing his face in your hands.

“Where, baby? Want it inside?”

“Yes, inside… please, please, please…” you beg.

“Come with me baby… wanna feel you squeezin’ me… fuck— c-can you do that?”

You whine and nod, having been teetering on the edge of overstimulation with another orgasm growing in your belly. You roll your hips slightly into him, the extra movement sending shivers down your spine.

“So close, baby, I can feel it… ‘s right there, she’s chokin’ me…” he grunts out, painfully holding back his own until you come undone under him again.

Which doesn’t take long, a flutter of your heart and one big wave of arousal covering you from head to toe making you see stars. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, unable to even make a sound as you come on his length all over again.

“Fuck… fuck… good girl, ‘m gonna come—”

Joel’s breathing quickens, becoming ragged and broken as he grunts and whines and spills inside of you. His lips press to your forehead suppressing his noises with kisses there as he empties himself inside of you, filling you up completely.

Your hands scrape his back at his shoulders, your senses all blurring into one another. Joel’s weight falls on top of you as he moves his kisses down from your forehead to your nose and finally to your lips, his tongue licking into you as you feel his cock finally stop twitching. He sits back to pull out of you watching as his cum leaks out of you. You whine at the loss feeling empty but still so full from him, shivering as you feel it dripping down your body.

Joel wipes his sweat-ridden brow and sighs with a goofy smile as he looks down at you. Your body is still jolting from your last orgasm. Any more and you would have been overstimulated beyond belief.

“Now that I definitely don’t do with the groupies, sweetheart,” he teases.

You give him a playful glare and chuckle at him. “What about all that autograph nonsense, then?”

“Well, you got the first of its kind. Never signed anyone there before.”

You blush and stretch a little, suddenly feeling that damp spot from earlier. You sit up in panic and sit back leaning against his pillows again. “Shit, Joel. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, I—”

“Stop,” he cuts you off. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Sheets can be washed.”

“But I made a mess—”

“C’mere, baby,” he says, extending a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you towards him, both of you on your knees facing each other as his arm snakes around your torso pulling you even closer into him. “‘M gonna get you cleaned up, ‘kay? Got a spare bedroom we can use anyway.”

You stare into his eyes, his words bouncing around in your head. We can use. “We?” you ask.

He scrunches his eyebrows, raising one at you. “What, you wanna run away already? Was it that bad?” he jokes.

“Oh, quit,” you say, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, standing up at the end of the bed and holding his arms out to you. “C’mon, pretty girl, how’s a warm bath sound, hm?”

“Sounds amazing, actually.” You grab his hands and stand up, taking a second to get your balance before following Joel to the bathroom.

When you’re all cleaned up, you walk into his living room wearing one of his t-shirts, a pair of his boxers, and some very oversized socks that he left in the bathroom for you to change into, towel drying the rest of your hair so it's not dripping everywhere. He sits on his couch, fresh pajamas on and dampened hair from the shower he took in the other smaller bathroom.

He taps the space next to him inviting you to sit, TV on and low, playing some random movie he found to fill the silence around him while waiting for you. You curl up into him, you warm from your bath and him warm from relaxing. He squeezes you close, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

Erica was right. You really did need this. Maybe it's stupid that you're growing so fond of this guy and you've known him for just a night, but there really is something about him. Something you can't quite explain...

You spend the rest of the night curled up next to Joel, your entire being content and you can only think one thing:

You’re not letting this one go easily. This one’s gonna be yours.

All yours.

a/n : thank y'all again so much for 100 followers, it means so much seriously 💜🫶🥹 and thank you for reading this fic that absolutely got away from me in the end, this idea tortured me for weeks and hopefully letting him out into the world will give me some peace finally 😭 but really, thank you guys so much and i hope everyone enjoys !!

[lovekabaneri]

TF Monster hunter AU fic "In hindsight"

I wrote a new fic inspired by @keferon TF Monster hunter AU.

Here's a link to AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63512290

Summary: Basically Brainstorm and Quark watch a conspiracy tv show about ancient monsters and as a mech of science, Brainstorm is dismissive of all the crazy theories. He laughs and says it is just bogus… only to end up discovering vorns later that these theories were true and it was actually him.

Story:

Brainstorm was a mech of science and cold, hard facts. And a bit of an ego, and maybe a bit of a crazy scientist streak… alright and maybe a bit too ready to test the limits of what is possible. You get the point.

Because of his personality, he was not very liked both in the academy and the scientific field, yet… even a mech like him managed to somehow find love. He and Quark were fellow students and then co-workers, they had worked together for many vorns, so it was weird to him how he still could not understand how Quark could fall in love with him. Before he could make sense of it all, he and Quark were conjux and moving in together.

………………………..

It was one of those slow and gloomy days on Cybertron, the night was dark with clouds blocking the sky and absolutely POURING outside, so the streets were empty of all traffic. It was a quiet time.

*Du-dun-dudu-du~!*

Music was playing from the screen in their shared hab, the sound loud and clear enough to be recognizable from all the way to Breinstorm’s little lab at home. A mix of dramatic tomes and techno music – absolutely gating on Brainstorm’s audials.

“Ugh! That thing again.” – he groaned and got up.

It was obvious he was not going to get any work done, with the annoying show now on and Quark really enjoyed watching it a lot, so he couldn’t really tell his conjux to turn it off, so he got out of his little lab and headed for the living area to get himself a cube of energon and maybe sit together with Quark.

“Oh, so you decided to finally come out of your lab, Storm?” – Quark was already sitting on the couch with a cube of energon in one servo.

“Well, not like I would have been able to do much at the moment. I still don’t understand why you watch this thing.” – Brainstorm said but sat down beside his conjux and settled comfortably as the show was starting.

“What? It is fun and I like watching all the ridiculous conspiracies they talk about – it is a good way to relax. If I remember correctly, you were also laughing last time we watched Cybertron Dismantled.” – Quark quirked an optic ridge.

“W-well… How can I not laugh at their stupidity?! They were talking complete bogus!” Brainstorm gestured at the TV “Magic? Immortals and Gods walking among us? A monster living in one of the seven oil pools near Cyplex? And don’t get me started on those supposed ‘monsters’ and ‘demons’! The Spark Eaters! We learned about the Age of Hunters in the academy. All those so-called monsters were just different types of beastformers. Like Grimmlock.” – he ranted, almost spilling his energon.

“Haha! You sound even more invested than me in this show with the way you are talking about it.” Quark laughed and put a servo on his conjux’s shoulder “Now, shush, it is starting.”

With a grumble, Brainstorm quieted down and just drank his energon.

On the screen, the theme song and introduction was finally done, the glyphs spelling out the show’s name flashed one last time before the feed cut to a darkened studio with two mech figures sitting in the dim light. Lights turned on, but unlike previous broadcasts, the studio was made to look like a room with a projection on the wall, making it look like they were standing by an open window with a storm outside. There were even occasional flashes and fake thunder sound, reminding the viewers of the storm currently outside.

[Good day or night, dear viewers. It is me, your host, Skidtrace.] – a flashy brown and gold mech with a dark visor smiled, his dentae glinting even in the low light.

[And I am Tsoul, the truth seeker…] – the second mech said, being more muted color of black and light green with facial markings and a distinctly spiky helm shape.

[And we are here, LIVE from our studio to share with you the TRUTH! In today’s episode OF-]  -Skid trace bedan.

[[CYBERTRON DISMANTLED!]] – the two said, with Tsoul being quieter and Skidtrace almost shouting.

Brainstorm winced a bit at the loud noise while Quark smirked from his side – the traitor!

[As you have noticed, we have decided to do something a bit different, compared to our usual broadcasts.] – Skidtrace gestured to the background.

[In theme with the current acid rain sweeping the region, we have decided to discuss a ‘being’] Tsoul made air quotes with his digits [That many of you, fellow seekers of truth, might have only vaguely heard about.]

[This episode is dedicated to a lesser-known story from the region of the Lithium flats and the surrounding areas like Vos, Nyon and Tarn. It is said than on stormy nights like these, where acid rains pelter the planet and electric storms light up the skies, a lone figure could be seen zipping through the clouds, the sound of thunder following it as it chases the lightning and tears through the skies! The legendary Thunderbird!] – Skidtrace said enthusiastically.

[It is quite an ancient legend, coming from the Age of Hunters or the ‘Dark Ages’ as some have started calling it in recent times.] Tsoul said with a composed tone, unlike his fellow showrunner [Today we are going to look through the many facts and myths and reveal to you the truth about this ‘mythical beast’. What is it? Could it be real? Or is it something that the government is trying to hide?]

[What are you talking about, Tsoul? Of course it is real! It is one of my favorite stories from home, before I came here to Polyhex! A mysterious beastformer from ancient times, a mythical being even! Flying through the acid rains like it is nothing, bringing with it lightning and thunder!] – Skidtrace gasped in mock offence.

[I know you are biased, being from the area, but we are a reputable source of information and we have to work with facts.] -Tsoul levelled his co-host with a look.

“Feh, yeah right, facts! Nothing factual about made-up conspiracies.” – Brainstorm scoffed.

“Shh! It is getting interesting and I am actually invested in this Thunderbit thing now. Maybe it is some kind of recluse beastformer, living away from civilization or maybe even an undiscovered species.” – Quark said, humoring the show but also honestly interested to see where it is going.

“Quark, you can’t be serious, there’s no creature that can do all that they are saying-]

[You should be aware that a living creature like the Thunderbird can’t exist, not even some of the bravest seekers would dare brave the storms, considering what kind of damage the acid rain and lightning can do to a mech.] – Tsoul continued.

“See, even the crazy guy agrees!” – Brainstorm exclaimed, only to be shoved by Quark.

[Then how do you explain all the myths, sightings and, this time, actual historical proof!] – Skidtrace fired back.

This was their usual routine most of the time, the two hosts having radically different conspiracy theories and trying to convince the audience theirs was right. Skidtrace leaning way into the ancient mythos or magic, gods and the unexplained. Tsoul leaning more to the sci-fi side of things like parallel dimensions, aliens and so on.

[Oh, what is that proof? Other than the very blurry pictures that we have found buring our research? None of which are clear enough to see much, considering they were taken during heavy storms.] – Tsoul gestured to the background.

The projection of a window was replaced by a conspiracy board with different blurry pictures on it. The two hosts started discussing the pictures and the smudged shapes on it, arguing about whether it was actually a bird or a shuttle doing an emergency flight, or maybe an UFO.

[Well, take a look of this, dear viewers! And Tsoul.] Skidtrace said dramatically, adding his partner’s name as an afterthought [With the help of some of my fellow mystic enthusiasts, I got access to a special piece of evidence from the Cybertronian museum of history!]

Then the doors to the studio opened and a few bots with the mark of the museum wheeled in a display cart. A mech that was obviously someone important followed them close by, watching with a careful optic as they brought in the covered cart.

[Dear viewers, say hello to Dictatus, one of the lead curators of the museum!] – Skidtrace introduced.

“Wow, maybe this time they do have actual proof? If the museum really is sponsoring this…” – Quark muttered to himself

“Eh, at least it is better than the ‘ghost’ episode we watched. How ridiculous, the spirits of dead mechs return to the Well, they don’t haunt things. The apparitions were obviously trick of light or due to radiation. And the noises were either from faulty machinery in the abandoned building or due to a scraplet infestation.” – Brainstorm scoffed.

“Yes, maybe that was so, but you have to admit it was a fun episode. You have to admit there are still thing unknown to us out there, ‘Storm.” Quark looked at his conjux “It is why we both became scientists, right? To challenge the boundaries and discover the unknown.”

“Yes, you are right-“

“Plus, it is really fun watching all the crazy theories fly around! It would be SO ridiculous if at least ONE turns out to be true! I know all my colleagues would short-circuit because of it.” – Quark couldn’t help but chuckle as he imagined some of his more annoying colleagues glitch and stutter.

“That is very unlikely to ever happen, but I do have to say I would like to see it.” – Brainstorm added.

As they watched, it turned out the mech known as Dictatus had only come to the show to promote the new exhibition his sector of the museum was doing. It was free advertisement and they would actually get a small sum as compensation for their time, so the museum won in said deal, only having to show on a conspiracy show to collect all the benefits.

“Judging by his face, I don’t think Mr. Curator is too happy to be there.” – Brainstorm remarked.

[And now, for the grand reveal!] Skidtrace gestured and pointed at the cart dramatically [Witness, the indisputable proof of the Thunderbird!]

The cart was uncovered and the camera zoomed in on the item inside the cart display, protected by a thick glass case. Inside was a carefully preserved, if quite weathered, old poster. Both Brainstorm and Quark couldn’t help but lean closer to inspect the piece on display. It looked to be made of old parchment, the kind they used in ancient times before they had datapads, it was a miracle it had survived for so long. On it were ancient glyphs that were faded and a bit smudged. Neither of them could read what was written in the old language, but it was clear it was a wanted poster, judging by the pictures and reward money written below, looking all too similar to current day ones. The picture was also more of a sketch than an actual picture, since photos were not available at the time of its making.

“That is-“ – Brainstorm began.

“Yeah?” – Quark’s eyes focused intently on the screen.

“That’s one really weird and fragged-up looking bird.” – he finished.

“Brainstorm!” – Quark shoved him.

“What?! You know I am not lying!” – he poked his conjux back.

And it really was very weird looking beastformer of some kind. Its root mode was all weird, had a yellow beak-like mouth, sparking eyes, yellow claw-like servos and some weird growths? They were on its back, on its arms and dangling from its back. It stood all odd and hunched, the most normal thing were probably its pedes, since they were at least normal. The drawing next to it was supposedly what its alt mode was supposed to look like-

And it was even weirder! Somehow! It looked like a bird beastformed but with the wrong shape – the beak was too long, the eyes in the wrong angle, int body too flattened, had somehow gained 2 smaller wings by its head along with the two deformed-looking wings that were WAY too far back, again, there were odd growths sticking out of a few places and some long strands dangling along its back.

“This… This doesn’t make any sense! There’s no way such a being would be able to fly!” – Quark pointed at the second drawing.

“See! What did I tell you – bogus!” – Brainstorm crossed his servos.

[As you can see, the fact that the Order of Primus – the biggest hunter organization at that time issued an official wanted poster of the Thunderbird! If you could introduce us to what has been written on this relic from the past, sir Dictatus?] – Skidtrace gave the word to the curator.

[Of course. It is a pretty rare specimen and time took its toll on the pigments used to write this, but we’ve managed to translate the message. It says: “Wanted! Dead or alive. Monster bird of thunder and lightning. Highly dangerous. Reward 100 000 credits.” Or at least that’s the best translation we could make from what’s left of this wanted poster. Apparently, this individual was tr-] – Dictatus started explaining.

[Yeah, yeah! I get it all that, BUT! What’s more important is to ask- Is this REALLY the mythical Thunderbird?!] – Skidtrace rudely interrupted the curator.

[Yes…] Dictatus almost revved his engine, just by looking at his faceplate it was clear he was not happy to be interrupted so rudely [There is no actual mane put on the poster, since the so-called ‘monsters’ were never called by their names, but the description of ‘bird of thunder and lightning’ could be also called Thunderbird.]

[Here you have it, viewers! An irrefutable proof of the Thunderbird’s existence!] – Skidtrace declared.

[Heh, I would not be so sure, dear colleague.] Tsoul finally joined the discussion [Just look at the drawings, at the odd way your ‘Thunderbird’ looks. Such a creature could never fly, not to mention live for so long!]

[But-] – Skidtrace began.

[BUT I have a much more plausible theory as to this ‘being’s’ existence!] Tsoul stood up and started walking, the camera followed him [As you know, back then majority of mechs were monoformers, unlike today when all have developed the ability to transform into an alt mode, even having triple changers in rare cases. Back then, the fearful, more primitive mechs labeled beastformers as monsters, solely because they were different, as a way to explain it to themselves, they blamed some sort of dark force for their abilities. So, what do you think they thing of something unknown? Are you following me?]

[Uh… no?] – Skidtrace scratched his heml.

[What I am trying to say is that this ‘monster’is no monster at all! The mechs of that time saw something odd, unexplainable, so they made it into something they could understand easily – a bird beastformer. But, no! It was not a beastformer! It was a SPACESHIP!] -  Tsoul suddenly proclaimed.

[What?! How can it be a spaceship?! They didn’t even have electricity back then!] – Skidtrace countered.

[That’s exactly it! THEY had no way of knowing what a ship was, so they called it a weird bird monster! Look at these! These look kind of like the wings of a shuttle! And these ‘growths’ in the back – they are fuel cables! Or charging diodes! Maybe the reason it was flying through the storm was to recharge its engine with the electricity from the lightning! The ancient mechs connecting that to the ‘bird’ actually bringing the storm. They were quite superstitious back then.]  - Tsoul nodded his helm.

At this point, the museum workers looked on the verge of just packing and leaving the two show hosts to argue.

[Then what are you suggesting?] – Skidtrace scowled at his partner.

[This is no living being! It is a spaceship! ALIENS!] Tsoul said loudly [An advanced race from another planet, much more developed than our own visited Cybertron in the times of yore and THIS is one proof of such aircraft being seen by our ancestors and written off as another of the ‘monsters’ that were being hunted at the time.]

The show then devolved into a very heated discussion of which conspiracy theory was the ‘correct’ one – whether it is some mystical monster or actual advanced alien life that the government is hiding. At some point, the museum staff just packed their things and stormed off in frustration all while Skidtrace and Tsoul argued about Monsters vs Aliens.

Quark had a good laugh at the crazy conspiracies that were shared and also because at some point Brainstorm started arguing back th the screen how stupid the hosts were.

“Ugh! I can’t believe I lost so much time on this stupid show!” – Brainstorm grumbled.

“Come on, you liked it! I also had a good laugh, so I can’t say our time was wasted. You got really into it at one point~” – Quark teased.

“Don’t remind me! There’s no way such a thing could have ever existed. Neither the mystic monster, not the so-called alien spaceship! It was just a bunch of nonsense and no one just pointed the obvious that maybe the artist was really bad at drawing pictures!” – Brainstorm pointed out and received a laugh from Quark.

……………………………

It would be vorns later, when Quark started getting sick and was diagnosed with an incurable spark disease, that Brainstorm did the unthinkable.

He managed to invent a time machine and went back in time to the ‘Dark Age’ to try and save the one called Perceptor, in hopes of using his research and equipment to help cure his conjux.

He found the mech… only to discover Perceptor was a Spark Eater, a deadly monster only heard in horror stories and fiction, and that he was on the verge of starvation. Needless to say, Brainstorm was lucky that he survived the attack. Then, he realized that Perceptor did not have any advanced equipment, HE himself was the equipment used to detect (or more correctly taste) the defects in sparks.

After that, a lot of things happened – the two were chased by the hunters as heretics, they ended up having to run for their lives and eventually ended on a crew of monsters that were looking for a safe haven. Brainstorm might have been a bit stuck, since his machine got damaged in his initial scuffle with Perceptor, but the two worked well together to develop a cure for Quark. Life was going well.

……………………………..

One day, Brainstorm and Drift had to go to a nearby town to get supplies for their travels. The two donned robes and cloaks to hide themselves. The cumbersome, restrictive material felt awful on Brainstorm’s wings but it was not like he could go without it. He was too recognizable and different from the monoform mechs of the time.

They were passing by stalls offering different types of crystals and metal when Brainstorm noticed a board with different sheets of parchment nailed to it. He approached out of curiosity, noting the different notices posted on it and… the wanted posters…

Criminals, crooks, murderers and ‘monsters’ like those in his crew. It was then that he noticed IT. It was a familiar-looking poster from his memory files. He had seen it long ago on the TV, but this one was brand new. All the glyphs were clearly visible and no parts were smudged or faded. Brainstorm had quickly learned this time’s language and writing system to be able to work with Perceptor and the others, so he was immediately able to translate the poster.

“Wanted! Dead or alive. Monster bird of thunder and lightning speed. Highly dangerous and fast. Travels with a group of other dangerous monsters and a titan. Reward 100 000 credits.” – he read to himself.

It was then that it hit him. The ‘fragged-up’ bird he mocked on TV was HIM! And that ‘weird growth’ was actually Perceptor clinging to his back for dear life! The memory was still fresh in his processor – the two were chased by hunters and were cornered, the storm was coming and Perceptor was injured, so Brainstorm had been forced to reveal his jet alt form and fly to safety. Poor Perceptor had wrapped his prehensile limbs around his frame and was clinging for dear life the whole flight. Obviously not used to a jet’s high speed. And the ‘thunder’ was him breaking the sound barrier for a second in his haste.

‘Well, as they say hindsight is 20/20. When I get back and Quark hears about all this, he’ll probably collapse from laughing too hard, especially after learning most of the conspiracy theories turned out to be true.’ – Brainstorm thought.

“Hey, ‘Storm! Hurry up and get your aft moving! We have errands to do!” – Drift pulled him away from the wanted poster.

“Alright, alright! Don’t pull me so hard.” – he grumbled and followed the younger beastformer.

He was going to get the cure, fix his time machine and return to Quark. He was a genius, one of the smartest mechs out there and failure was NOT an option for him!

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Epilogue: Side A

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Angst, Predator/Prey

Chapter Summary: Something round, something small. Something fluffy, something soft. Two little games, a prelude to a new chapter, and in the middle, Sylus can finally say he is content but then again, wishing for more has always been for free.

Author's Note: This was so fun to write!

Content Warning: Smut (I think.)

Tagging: @phisen @wrimaira @lads-ficrecs

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

Side A: My Dragon, Deserving

Good things come in pairs.

A Luke shouldn’t be seen without a Kieran, or else pranks would lose their punchline.

A dragon isn’t a dragon at all if he isn’t guarding his most precious treasure in his tower, or else his home would only be just iron and stone.

So is a sock, so is a shoe, so is an antler of a deer, and so is a horn of a dragon too.

At least, that’s your marketing spiel every time you and your favorite visitor (Or perhaps, it is an old nickname since you and him live together now) spend the late afternoons before he starts his day in the greenhouse built behind his home.

His breakfast is your dinner (or sometimes, late afternoon tea time) and it was over brewed coffee, tea, cakes, and salads that you always say your pitch.

Of course, you don’t need to tell him twice, thrice or even more but he lets you do it anyway. (Mostly because the pitch ends with your attempt in bribing him through a new trinket, kisses, and more kisses that often lead to him pulling you in his lap and then only during the moment of catching his breath with both of your faces flushed that he realizes he is thirty minutes late for his first business meeting.)

What is it that you, his precious deer, is asking from him?

It isn’t a pair of pearl earrings you saw when both of you were strolling in a high end shopping mall overlooking the beach.

It isn’t a pair of golden cufflinks in an affiliated sewing supply store that you said will suit his latest clothes quite well.

It isn’t a pair of high heels shoes Sylus pointed out will fit you nicely when you and him attend an upcoming orchestra performance.

No, your request started all because Mephisto had to deal with a pair of seagulls who swooped in to steal the strawberry from your cake.

“Sweetie, Mephisto’s fine, he can handle two rowdy birds.”

“No, this is an unfair fight. Poor Daisy.”

Of course, his mechanical companion came out unscathed (Yet Sylus scoffed when he saw the bird pretending to limp around you so you will cradle it throughout the day and of course, he can’t reprimand it knowing full well he also does the same tactic.) but ever since then, you always start your meal times together with your spiel and-

-He starts his meal by asking you to pass the screwdriver.

“Have you thought about what to name Mephisto’s new friend, sweetie?”

A soft hum was your reply, handing Sylus the tool he requested while you shifted closer to him, his tail around your waist as you watched his latest creation slowly come to life.

“If all good things come in pairs, then a Mephisto certainly needs a Faust-”, you answered and you giggled when your crow friend perched on your antler let out a caw, “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll think about a name that pairs well with Daisy too.”

All good things come in pairs.

It was the first line of your spiel he often recounts every night, after you and him push the line of how far both of your touches can go under the cover of the blankets, the line he repeats in his head after he counts if you still have all of your ten fingers and if his bites did not stain the white sheets red.

This is pure love, that he knows for himself, and even during the haze of wanting to touch you and be touched by you, never once every part of him mistake you for a full course meal.

Still, Sylus has always been a cautious man.

He will start his count from the pinky of your right hand followed by a kiss on each finger.

One, two, three, four, five.

Every finger still in place, delicate, the hands of a tailor with a gentle touch. Inexperienced yet they manage to undo and then remake him every night, the tips of your fingers mapping his skin like how a tailor smooths out the creases of a fabric.

Then, he will move to your left hand and then his count will begin from the thumb.

One, two, three, four-

Yes, your left pinky is still intact but he always takes a pause before taking it into account.

Your fourth finger always receives a special treatment from him with his kiss landing on the skin before the knuckles.

Sylus isn’t sure if you noticed that step and maybe you don’t because he hides this little ritual by poking your sides with his free hand, your eyes squeezed shut while you laughed carelessly beneath him.

He had always told himself he was content.

Yet.

And yet, when his gaze stays on that finger, all he can think about is that all his promises to you can be put into a trinket that comes in pairs.

One for you.

One for him.

“Will Daisy's friend wake up soon?”, you asked, and he chewed the piece of pancake you held by the fork for him first, studying the lines of code in his laptop screen beside his half-eaten breakfast before answering.

“Well, sweetie, this is where I would need your help.”

“But I don’t think Daisy’s friend requires my talent to start flying.”

“Don’t worry, little doe, I just need you to fetch something for me,” Sylus answered, a small grin forming at the corner of his lips while he watches you tilt your head in confusion.

Yes, you have always been his second assistant (The first assistant title is shared by the twins, a position you don’t want to take away from your favorite wolfboys.) and he is more than amused when you go all your way on helping him anyway you can.

That includes fetching tools and parts he needs that are often scattered here and there.

“Oh, what is it? I think I am getting better at telling your tools apart.”

“Is that so? So if I describe something without naming it, you already know what it is, miss seamstress?”

An enthusiastic nod, his precious deer eager to prove herself to him (Even when there is nothing to prove.)

You are absolutely adorable right now, especially with your tail wagging that his tail flick in excitement in return.

“Well then, sweetheart, can you get that thing for me? Something round.”

Oh, this should be easy.

That’s what you thought when you stood up and bunch your skirt up, telling the butterflies you and Sylus are taking care of to not follow you outside and to, “Look after Mister Dragon for me.” then taking quick steps with Daisy, closing the greenhouse door behind you.

“Good afternoon, miss.”

All the hybrids who work within the mansion slowly waking up greeted you politely, their words accompanied with a small smile and sometimes, a shy wave before they start the day.

Your new home is certainly wide, yes, and during your early days, there are many rooms to explore that you end your work days at 5 or earlier just so you can admire your dragon’s many treasures.

Sylus always manages to find you, of course.

On your first day, he found you curled up and asleep on the couch, listening to an opera recording of Faust inside the room where he keeps his vinyl records.

(He also dropped everything that day so he could play the rest of his collection to you.)

On the second day, he found you among the rows of bookshelves, on the floor and turning a page of a book you have taken interest in under the warm and dim lights.

(“I want to attend a magic show where it rains down money”, you said, at awe at the passage of the book you are both in but he only shook his head, chuckling, “No need, sweetie. We can do it here and you don’t have to worry about the bills becoming bottle labels.”)

On the third day, he found you gazing at a painting he purchased abroad, a Rembrandt.

(“We should go see the original in person soon, miss seamstress,” Sylus told you with his tail lazily wrapped around your waist.)

So many rooms, so many trinkets inside to see and the task might be too daunting, as if looking for a needle in a haystack but you have retrieved many tools for him to know where each tool is.

“I got it!”, you announced once you entered the greenhouse again with rolls of adhesive tapes of all varieties, Daisy flapping towards the table to examine his friend in progress.

Sylus hummed, a playful tune, while his hand shifted through the items as you stood by his side.

He had already braced himself on your pout of disappointment that will come with his answer.

“No, sweetie, not these ones.”

There it is.

The drooping ears, the furrowed brows, and the tail that stopped wagging.

“Are you sure?”, you asked and Sylus nodded.

He is more than sure.

“I am sure. Need a hint, little doe?”

Perhaps it was his smile that you love, the one that patiently waits for you until you hand the right tool or part to him that made you more determined to look for what he needs.

“Okay, can I get one?”

“Of course. All you have to do is ask, sweetie” he replied and your little frown was erased quickly when his tail gave your ankle a reassuring squeeze, “The thing I am looking for is certainly round but smaller.”

Round and small.

What could it possibly be that he needs to complete Daisy’s friend?

Perhaps this is the time to call on the experts.

“Luke, Kieran?”, you called out, opening the door to the workshop after hearing their voices and the two boys (Or maybe not anymore for they have certainly grown taller over the past couple of years.)

“We’re here!”, Luke replied and here they are, in the middle of trying to fix an old vintage sewing machine that you and Sylus found in an antique shop abroad. (You will never forget the day the two of you dragged it back all the way to the hotel.)

A project the three of them had decided to work on even when you told them there is no need to make it work and the manufacturer no longer provides spare parts for older models.

“I didn’t mean to bother-”, you started but the twins were quick to shake their heads, telling you that you will never be and then you continued, “But I wanted to ask for your help.”

Help.

Their tails wagged, always looking forward to helping you in any way they can and being praised after (Of course, the rewards are a bonus but they wouldn’t say no to a hug or a pat in the head even when they have to stoop lower for you to reach their heads these days.)

“Oh, what can we do?”

“Did any of the boss' business associates mean to you again?”

“We will take care of them for you!”

Of course, they are slightly dismayed that no business associate will be put in line today but the frowns hidden in their masks were slowly replaced with knowing grins when they heard your question.

Round and small.

They have been running around errands on the boss’ behalf that they know this isn’t just one of the little games Sylus and you play together every now and then.

“All good things come in pairs,” the boss said under his breath when they delivered to him a package from a renowned jewelry designer months before.

This is the moment they have been waiting for.

“Could be many things, Miss Deer,” Kieran mused and with quick strides he pulled a box from one of the shelves. “Perhaps a bearing?”

(He nudged his brother and Luke snickered in response.)

“Or a nut?”, Luke suggested, adding another box beside it.

“Could be a cog.”

“A turntable?”

“Maybe a gear?”

Slowly, the boxes piled up and you had to stop them when the hill was slowly becoming a mountain since it may be too hard to carry all of them back to the greenhouse.

With so many items on your arms, you are sure that you have finally guessed correctly the blind item only to be met by your dragon shaking his head after shifting through everything.

“I didn’t know Daisy’s friend requires such a complex and small part to wake up,” you said, pouting at the growing pile of discarded items at the side, the butterflies landing on the boxes as if treating them as the greenhouse’s latest decorations.

“Perhaps another hint, sweetie?”

“I might end up bringing everything inside the base here.”

“Then, I’ll also narrow it down for you.”

“Can I also get a hug?”

“I’ll throw in a kiss too,” he chuckled because how could he say no to those drooping ears and those furrowed brows? 

How could he say no to the deer in this little glasshouse surrounded by all the butterflies both of you have raised, by all the vines climbing around the antlers you have shed, and by all the decorations he had welded together.

In the table where you and him have your meals is the first pot you have gifted to him, the Edelweiss bloom swaying gently beside your lone antler.

A little paradise you and him built.

Would it be too selfish to ask you to be here till death comes with a soft knock on the door?

“Round, small, and shallow. Have you checked the tin can in the walk-in closet?”

How could you have forgotten about that little box?

Rich as he is, your dragon always keeps his tools spread out across your home, mostly so he doesn’t have to walk all the way to his workshop for repairs, and every now and then, little things get mixed up.

In your boxes of threads are his spools of filament.

In your boxes of buttons are his LEDs.

In your boxes of bobbins are his small motors.

Yet.

And yet.

In the tin can placed above all the shirts you have sewn for him over the years ever since was not the odd assortment of trinkets from a tailor and a developer.

Notes. You will always recognize the stationary you used to write short messages to him, always laced with gratitude. Here they are, yellowed around the edges but carefully preserved, sorted from the first date to the latest one which is a week ago.

Flowers. These are the little blooms you have tucked in his hair. Some are local blooms, other foreign, souvenirs from your trips with him abroad.

Worn fabric. Old good luck ribbons you have sewn for him over the years, sorted by the darkest to the lightest color.

In the middle of them all, a velvet box.

Round.

Small.

Shallow.

“Miss Deer?”

You turned around, holding the little box close to your chest and here he is, just outside the closet with Daisy and Daisy’s new friend perched on both his shoulders.

“Mister Dragon is such a terrible liar,” you smiled, and before he could even reply, you had already wrapped your arms around his neck.

He had always resorted to such tactics as a guise to cover his nervousness (and most likely, fear.)

“Yet you always indulge me,” Sylus replied, laughing as he spun you around until your back hit the soft mattress of the bed you share together and then you answered.

“Brave dragons can be scared sometimes.”

“And lenient deers can always say no too.”

A predator hybrid and prey hybrid living in the same roof.

A predator hybrid who has been careful to distinguish hunger from lust during the bouts of when the euphoria is at its peak.

A prey hybrid who placed her trust by exposing her neck to him, even when a slight pressure from his bite can pierced the artery.

Yes, there is no fear in your eyes.

There never was when you gaze at him.

He can always be greedy, hide you away, not take no for an answer on a years old question he has been hoping to ask.

(He had never been to rely to the gods for his fate but he had prayed that these moments of happiness would never be fleeting.)

If all good things come in pairs and then-

-Let him be your other half.

“All good things come in pairs.”

(He started, his hand reached out for the velvet box you are cradling in your chest, his arm supporting his weight as he hovered above you.”

“A butterfly wouldn’t be without a bloom, a vinyl without its player, and one wolf cub is good but better are two.”

(He opens the box, the most intricate ring you have laid eyes on just like every hair pin he has gifted to you. A dragon presenting his offering, his hands trembling just the slightest.)

“So are the blades of a scissor, so are the gloves, so are the rings, and so is the dragon and the deer too.”

(A brief nod from you, the gentlest smile he is now guaranteed to see for the rest of his days, as he carefully slipped the ring on its proper place.)

“I want to be with you, sweetheart.”

A phrase yet laced with a silent plea. Say yes, anything that you agree, and he will be finally content.

“Then be with me.”

Mephisto and his new found friend had flown outside the open bedroom window then and into the night, taking it as a cue that a more intimate celebration is about to happen, especially when Sylus’ hands slowly slipped beneath your blouse.

Tonight, you and him will see how further you can push the line.

────────────────────

The last stanzas of the winter solstice are slowly fading in and then replaced by the steady beating of the drums and trumpets of spring, the earth becoming warmer with the sunlight filtering through the foliage of the budding trees.

Luke and Kieran have already prepared the way for you, the red carpet leading you to their boss scattered with petals (Because of all the roles they can choose from, they have volunteered themselves to be the flower boys of the wedding.)

Then, Mephisto with its new friend follows closely, dropping the rings on Sylus’ palms before taking their rest on the twins’ shoulders.

When the first flower blooms, so does the first note of the spring aria of the songbird finally home.

When the first flower blooms, so do new beginnings taking root on the thawing soil.

When the first flower blooms, he will be waiting for you at the end of the aisle.

‘Twig, who would have known?’

It was the first line of the speech your father had prepared, reciting the words in his head as he offered his arm for you to take after you stepped out of the car.

He doesn’t need to see your face beneath the veil to see the gentle smile, to see your eyes that light up when your gaze falls at the man waiting for your hand.

“Every piece of clothing you have made is a part of you. People have always claimed you have inherited my talents but your mother has always been the better tailor.”

You giggled when he fixed the white ribbons tied around your antlers. The dress you have sewn for yourself is impeccable, the design inspired from your mother’s, a culmination of your talents and while he harbors regret for not being able to salvage her dress during the fire, it all dissipates when you manage to bring it back to life in a new form.

Then, he began to count the steps both of you take just like he did when he brought your works to Sylus, a distant memory from long, long ago.

This time, it was the tailor herself he is bringing.

“Mr. Sylus, if you can hear me out again like before, please give her lots of hugs when she opens her arms for you.”

He and Sylus has rehearsed for this moment, an unspoken practice. 

Every small gathering, Sylus had always let you dance with your father first before politely asking for his turn and then your father would guide your hand to the dragon hybrid’s open palm.

“Look after her. Cherish her. Don’t let her go to bed crying.”

It should have been easy at this point and yet-

And yet-

-All the colors your father can see are now like splotches of watercolor and even when he has told Sylus the next line several times, his voice trembled.

“Take care of my daughter, Mr. Sylus.”

“I have always been one to honor my words.”

Your father was too happy to notice Sylus’ voice has a slight hitch on it as well.

────────────────────

Sylus knows you will be very exhausted when the day ends.

The small yet vibrant celebration was filled with laughter, the warm lights of the garden conservatory you and him had chosen for this intimate gathering was perfect and more so is the small ensemble of orchestra that recently became your favorite after watching them perform before. (They weren’t even professionals yet, still students.)

You and him were never too far away from each other.

If you do, it is always easy to spot you in the small crowd and the twins have kept you company, taking turns dancing with you and when your feet hurt, you walk back to him barefooted then shyly tugging the cuff of his sleeve with your other hand carrying your heels.

He is always quick to end his conversation with his business associates right here and there.

If you ask Sylus’ business associates that are part of his inner circle, it is certainly a surreal sight to see him wearing light colored fabrics with cream tones, more so seeing him lift you up so both of you can sit down.

It is only one of the very rare occasions that his usual sharp features are softened, maybe because how both of you match or maybe because Sylus’ gaze are only on you the entire time.

He can never take his eyes off of you, especially when you were making your way towards him earlier with your father, especially when the veil on your head draped nicely over your antlers, and especially when the precious stones on your dress complimented your eyes so well.

Then again, he can never take his eyes off of you no matter what you wear.

In between those little breaks, he will steal a kiss from you, using your veil to cover your faces only to get reprimanded gently by you.

“The veil is see through.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. Thank you for telling me, sweetie.”

Then he will proceed to do it again anyways and more, to see your blush and commit those images to memory because sometimes, there are photos that don’t do you justice.

The hand on your waist will slowly travel up until he is tracing your spine, slow and deliberate against the exposed skin.

(You were always quick to hide your face behind the champagne glass you are holding.)

He will make observations here and there, leaving comments about the food or the venue, and his whispers will end with a little nip on your soft ear, the scent of cotton and wildflowers always overwhelming his senses.

(“Don’t eat me,” you said and he will only laugh, knowing it is just a playful response and then he will give you one return, “I can’t make any promises, wife.”)

Perhaps you have also become more attuned to his gaze since you are quick to look up to him when he lets his eyes linger for too long at the ribbon tied around your tail.

(Of course, you have worn one so he wouldn’t feel left out (Your words, not his) wearing little bows on his powerful tail.)

Besides, he isn’t the only one overly affectionate tonight despite being surrounded by people.

Your gestures on the other hand, well-

Discrete.

Subtle.

Utterly well calculated.

How your hand carefully slips inside his pocket to borrow his handkerchief, your other hand bunching up your dress at the side.

(He will glance at you, a smirk on the corner of his lips as you sheepishly smile back, returning the cloth after wiping your sweat.)

Your finger on his belt loop while you and him dance, his hands on your waist.

(“Now, sweetie, your hands are wandering,” he points out, amused and sure, you will rectify your mistake only for your finger to return where it was.)

Perhaps his favorite is when your fingers will slip beneath the fabric of the gloves he is wearing, your skin against his, while both of you take a break from the small conversations.

(“I can remove them if you want,” he tells you but you only shook your head.)

Laughter always makes time run too fast, happiness is fleeting but if it happens everyday then, Sylus can say he has a collection of fleeting moments that is not so fleeting anymore.

One by one, everyone has said their goodbyes, the once vibrant conservatory slowly dimming as each light calls its a day, each instrument now tucked to bed inside their cases, and each table cleared.

Yet, your night is far from over.

“Should we call it a day, sweetie?”

Just a rain check but his precious deer who normally gets quite exhausted after every social gathering seemed to say otherwise, not when your eyes gaze at him to tell him perhaps you and him can stay up for a few more minutes.

“I wouldn’t want to miss the stars on the first nights of spring.”

“It would be a shame to not see them.”

His breath was warm against the slope of your neck, overpowering the cold night breeze from the balcony of the suite, the distant city lights and the night sky almost merging together.

Hold. Sylus is careful to hold you during these moments, taking his time but his breathing always hitch as he pressed a kiss on your back with every mother of pearl button unfastened.

(The first time he held you, he told you countless times to not be afraid to shove him, that he will not blame you if your prey hybrid instinct took over.)

Tremble. Your hands trembled at his every touch while you continued to remove the pins on your hair and the jewelry you wore, carefully placing them at the bedside table.

(His touches were hesitant back then, his eyes had to see yours and every time you tremble, he will stop but you held on his wrist gently, shaking your head, “Please.”)

Sigh. Did it come from you or him? It is hard to know, not when he is slowly pulling the ribbon tied around your tail and he is already murmuring in your ears that you and him will be crossing the line both of you have been putting off for a long time.

(Your first sigh was more restrained but every sound that managed to escape was an answer to the question “Does this feel good?” that both of you ask each other.)

“Careful to not let the dress get too wrinkly.”

You softly called out when he finally managed to help you out of it and he pressed a kiss on the top of your head, putting it together with his coat hanging at a nearby chair.

Even when both of you have committed each other’s skin to memory, it always never fails to amuse him when you smile at him shyly under his gaze, pulling your knees close to your bare chest to cover you.

“My nightgown,” you said, watching him remove his vest, “It should be in the closet.”

“No can do, wife.”

His playful smirk points at the fact he has other ideas. Yes, the closet will only take him five strides to get what you ask but those number of steps are too much for him, not when all he wants right now is to be near you.

“Are you cold? You can wear something of mine then,” he offered, and the bed dipped as he reached out for your hand, letting it rest at the first button of his white shirt. (“What a shameless man,” the small voice in your head always points out.)

He never fails to make you laugh even during these moments, of his creative ideas to make you blush and you reward him well, pressing a kiss on his collar (the imprint of your lipstick missing a corner, landing on his neck instead and his hold on the sheets beside you tightened).

“You are too generous,” you smiled, your fingers working on unbuttoning his shirt and he isn’t one to hide his satisfaction, making sounds reserved for your ears and his.

“At least my clothes have already been warmed up for you, little doe.”

“But now you will be cold.”

“That can be fixed.”

“Your clothes might as well be dresses when she wears it”, a small and prideful voice in his head always points out every time you wear one of his shirts and he leans down, his nose buried on your neck taking in his scent and yours blending perfectly, a waltz, followed by a tentative lick.

His sigh is the start of a sonata, a duet special to the both of you.

Adagio, a slow pace, the deer and the dragon walking side by side under the dense foliage.

His heartbeat and yours syncing with each kiss you shared. His hands would slip beneath his shirt you are wearing, familiarizing himself with the curves and dips while yours trace his abdomen and chest.

“Little deer should have run away from me,” a voice in his head always says when Sylus can feel his sharp canines straining to pierce your skin but the more sensible voice shakes its head, “Then you will cry if she did.”

Did anything change? A simple question you both ask yourselves while both of your hands continue to wander, the two of you studying each other.

“He is not a bad dragon. He always tries his best,” a soft voice in your head points out every time you pick out a whimper of frustration in him and your hands will always move to his cheeks so you could brush your nose against his and then the small voice adds, “Perhaps a pat too?”

There is no need to hurry, both of you have all the time in the world. 

Allegro, a playful chase, the deer running ahead and the dragon on her tail.

Sylus had always kept a first aid kit by the bedside table across all the houses and penthouses he owned, a precautionary measure, but all of it is gathering dust at this point, not when he had proven to himself time and time again that never once he had confused you for a meal.

Predator hybrids always mix up love and hunger, that’s what they say, you will be kissing her and when you blink, she has already lost too much blood.

He had always disputed that claim but then again, there is a certain hunger only you can satiate.

The shirt you were wearing was already pushed up until your collar bone, his body between your legs, and both of you were trying to seek relief from each other. Your hand will reach for his blindly, calling for his name weakly and his fingers will move from your wrist, tracing the skin until he interlaces it with yours.

“I am here. I am still here,” he’ll tell you, or maybe more to himself as well, a reassurance he had yet to lose his mind, or maybe he already did in this whirlpool of passion and his tail wrapped around your ankle moving to your thigh tightens.

His bites are careful, measured, and once he pulled away when he recognized the unique taste of your blood (“White rabbit milk candy,” the voice in his head mused, “Don’t tell anyone. Many would want a taste.”) but your hand only pushed the back of his head.

“It’s you, I don’t mind,” you whispered in his ear followed by your blunt teeth nipping on his ear and it was then he realized maybe yours are sharper because why did it always tingle his spine?

The touches, the bites, the sounds, the notes, an arpeggio, slowly rising and your voice and his had always blended so well behind closed doors. 

It is his favorite part, the section of the duet he wants to prolong just to see your face flushed and parted lips.

Sylus can only assume you love it as well, especially when your hands touch him anywhere but in the place he badly needs you to.

Fortissimo, the dragon closing the distance, a few more steps and then a glimpse of elysium.

In this dance, who is the hunter and who is the hunted? Who is chasing who? Or perhaps these are the only instances you and him are more like humans?

You and him have satisfied each other in many ways under the cover of the blankets but there is a certain line both of you are yet to cross, not when Sylus had express his worries to you countless of times (“I do not want to prove the people right,” he sighed, and it is the most vulnerable expression you have set eyes on and you nodded, “We can always wait for another night.”)

But both of you have already delayed it enough.

His heart was pounding but yours was louder and he pressed his forehead against yours covered with sweat and he spoke softly.

“Do you want this, wife?” (He didn’t make any movement just yet, his hands holding wrists above your heads, the usual confident tone in every nickname he gives you gone.)

“I do.” (A nod, the gentle smile he loves, then followed by the softest kiss that always reminds him you are here.)

His pants discarded and the anticipation grew but he had prepared you for this moment and he hopes it will be enough. A little more, then he believes he will actually see through your eyes what elysium looks like.

Trace. His fingers trace your wrist until your palm, a low groan from him followed by a slow push of his hips. Tight, almost suffocating as if he had swallowed the petals of an Edelweiss flower to gain your favor.

Intertwined. His fingers lace against yours, holding it firmly. Was pleasure always this unbearable? Heavy to carry?

Brush. His nose brushed against yours, little kisses to wipe the tears on your cheeks. Slowly, slowly, there is no rush even when your heartbeat and his are beating faster and louder.

“Is it in?”

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

He praised you when it finally did, slightly breathless followed by a moment of laughter, victory, but the duet is yet to end.

Crescendo, a plea to remain in this paradise.

Nothing could have prepared both of you for this.

It is the oddest combination but then again, both of you have always made an odd pair. The scent of cotton and wildflowers danced together with petrichor followed by a faint scent of gunpowder, tobacco, and burnt pinewood.

The forest taking root, born, burning, and then reborn, a cycle. 

The pain ebbing to give way to pleasure, and both of you held on to each other, finding a steady rhythm in this new dance.

Strained voices, he will call your name and you will call him back, even when both of you are here in the same place. He wanted to ask if he is too rough but that would be difficult to do, when every word is cut off with you reaching out to kiss him, only to break it to catch your breath.

A little more, a little more, if you will be so kind, let him have a little more.

A bite, a little harsh, he was aiming for the pillow but his teeth latched on your shoulder, the same spot where you let him take a nip from you from back then inside the cramped car under the faint glow of the lamp left lit inside the unmanned guardhouse.

Don’t stop, don’t stop just yet, if he will be so kind, you don’t want him to stop.

A whimper, a whine, his tail thrashing at every movement, and then-

-A wail.

He followed you shortly after, his part of the song ending with a low note, a growl as every piece of you and him overspill.

Diminuendo, a quietness, a relief, or perhaps, a beginning of another sonata, if you say yes.

All predator hybrids always take a risk when they fall in love with a prey hybrid.

Most of their stories end with heartbreak and behind his back, Sylus can hear worries expressed by everyone who shakes their heads, telling each other that if this tale culminates to a sad note, then maybe Sylus does have a heart and he himself had broken it into pieces.

A moment of silence, then a smile breaks in his face when he sees that you are still here, intact, wearing a lopsided smile that most likely mirrors his too.

He gave the harsh bite on your shoulder, a lick, an apology and his smile grew wider when your hand untangled against his just so you could run your fingers on his hair.

Victory tastes like white rabbit milk candy.

“You are too kind, sweetheart.”

“And you are very gentle.”

His laughter had always been beautiful and yours joined his.

He asked you if you wanted to rest again but you only shook your head, this time, you shyly asked if you could take the lead.

Who is he to turn you down, anyways?

.

.

.

.

.

Early spring.

Sylus will never forget the texture of the breeze that night, the unique scent of yours and his, and when morning comes, he tucked a cherry blossom petal on his coat as both of you walked in the city for brunch.

He said he is finally content.

Yet-

When his eyes landed on a small family sitting at the corner of the restaurant, suddenly, new wishes came in.

He will have to ask you soon.

────────────────────

All good things come in threes.

It is common to see a Luke and a Kieran running around but it is more common these days to see the short sheep hybrid sitting on top of either of their shoulders in the mornings and afternoons.

It is common to see a Mephisto and a Faust perched in the electric lines but it is more common these days to see the little dove nestled between them.

Red, yellow, blue, three colors for more vibrant ones. Pot, flower, soil, for a bloom to bud. So are wishes, so is a fairytale, and so are meal times that happen thrice a day.

The greenhouse is more vibrant now, more butterflies continue to flutter around and their wings a subtle accompaniment to the vinyl record from the orchestra who played during the reception of your wedding, a thank you gift containing all their covers from you and Sylus’ favorite composers. (Perhaps your pick was their rendition of one of Vivaldi’s works, fitting for a small orchestra made up of young graduates.)

You can only hope that this music will also be favored greatly by someone coming soon in a few months.

Every now and then, Daisy will let out a soft caw on its basket, making sure its friend and the dove that have been following them around is tucked under its wing.

“Sweetie, why are you still up?”

The embroidery you are working on was set aside and you looked up to see Sylus stepping inside, careful to not let the butterflies get past the small gap and you have always pointed out it is always a feat for someone tall and broad as him.

It was late but in his dictionary, his day ended early with all the business deals he had to do finally closed and signed.

“Oh, I was looking for something earlier but I forgot where I placed it.”

“Did you misplace your little crochet friends again?”

“Something like that. It should be around here.”

“Do you need my help?”, he asked, sitting beside you after pressing a kiss on your cheek, his hand reaching out to study your latest embroidery in the works.

Why is there a smaller dragon beside a larger dragon? Or maybe he assumed too soon, since the body is still halfway through. It could be Mephisto.

“If you don’t mind?”, you answered, your head resting on his shoulder as you gently took back the cloth he was examining, “It is quite small so it might take you awhile.”

A small huff, his eyes rolling playfully then standing up, leaving his coat on your shoulders.

Something small? He managed to find everything you used for sewing, from needles to iridescent buttons made of mother of pearls that he could basically spot any of it a mile away.

This is easy.

At least, that’s what he told himself after you gave him a kiss for good luck and he stepped out of the greenhouse, the two security guards standing outside bowing at him.

At night time, the base is more bustling, most of his employees carrying crates containing all the trinkets he had won in all of the auctions you and him attended last week or sometimes, they are heavily armed, about to be sent to a certain part in N109 zone for a dispute.

Still, it isn’t as gloomy anymore, not when you have left pieces of you to remind him that you are here, living with him now as his wife.

By the window sills are plushies, as small as your hands, gazing outside and the twins and his employees call them easter eggs, especially when they are so well hidden behind the heavy curtains.  Little wolves, little foxes, little geese, any kind of animal that catches your fancy, simply admiring the view. 

(You have them all face towards the greenhouse, telling everyone who manages to spot them that letting them face the other side of the house will scare your friends.)

By his office table, on his monitor, are small notes written by you. Sometimes, short phrases or doodles of everyone living in the base that left an impression on you.

(You have accidentally ratted out the twins and his employees several times because of this gesture and perhaps he has to thank you for that because he discovered the two wolf cubs (or maybe, not anymore) are planning to hold a fireworks show just because.)

By the shelves of the many books you and him are book nooks in between, tiny worlds both you and him assembled from pre-made models, mostly commissioned, and some, he had made himself.

(“That’s the street to our shop”, you smiled widely when you were able to fully set-up one of the models and he grinned, “It’s one of my favorite places, sweetie.”)

All your needles, pins, little squares of fabric, anything small, he puts in one box and his strides are wider, smirking as he finally sets it on the table in front of you.

Yet, the victorious smirk was replaced with a frown when you shook your head.

“Oh my, not these.”

“Is it now? Are you sure, sweetheart? I brought you a pile.”

“Quite sure.”

“It is small,” you continued and with your hands, you try to measure it for him to visualize the item you are looking for, “Also soft.”

The two security guards stared at him oddly as they bowed down again, watching him march back to the base while he hums an idle tune, wondering what could possibly be the item you are looking for.

Still, Sylus is not one to be easily deterred.

“Boss man, you have been walking around this hall for quite awhile,” Kieran pointed out, looking up from the quilt he and his brother is working on.

“Did someone send you those packages again, boss?”

“Or is it another bomb threat?”

“We’ll deal it for you!”

They have grown taller, that’s what Sylus observed, even when he is still a head taller than them.

“No, not tonight,” he replied, the twins tilting their head when they watch him go about as if-

-As if he is searching for something.

Perhaps with age comes experience because the noses tinkered by the humans when they were children had been honed at this point and they only found out this change last week.

At first, they were arguing over who should take the credit.

“Hey, I smelled them first!”

“Nuh uh!”

You were quick to break up the fight and told them to keep it a secret for now.

They immediately agreed, of course, because they are your henchmen too (Although, you like referring to them more as your wolfboys.)

“Did you lose anything?”, Luke asked, innocently.

“Not me, my wife,” Sylus corrected and his eyes landed inside their room. Not that messy anymore ever since that sheep hybrid is coming over more often and they wanted to impress her.  (They call it maximalism before but when you and the sheep hybrid said their room is indeed very dirty, that’s when they only listened.)

“What is it, boss man?”, Kieran ventured, and it is taking willpower for their tails not to wag or else it will give everything away.

“Small and soft.”

“That’s it?”

“It isn’t as easy as you make it sound to be,” he replied, rolling his eyes and he was about to make his way further inside the base only for the two to call his attention.

“Could be a blanket for her little creation.” Kieran answered, pretending to recount everything you have made that you tend to misplace and he nudged his brother after that, grateful their masks are covering the grins that are wearing. (“You’re good at this,” Luke whispered and Kieran’s grin grew wider.)

“Could be a puppet.”

“Or a flower.”

“Maybe candy?”

Of course, Sylus took all of their suggestions, even as they grew even more ridiculous that he had to raise his hand for them to stop and he retrieved everything they had listed down.

With this amount of items, there is a high chance the little trinket you have lost is among them.

“Oh no, it isn’t here.”

He hummed thoughtfully at your response and you stood at the soft plush couch to match his height, pressing your fingers between his brows.

“Did you remember where you last left it, sweetheart?”

It was your turn to hum this time and he held your waist to steady you while you shift back and forth. (Is it just him or does your skin have a more vibrant glow?)

Finally, you snap your fingers, your eyes lighting up.

“Small, soft, and plain. I think I left it inside my music box.”

Your music box.

It was one of the belongings you have brought with you when you moved in here and he winds it for you after you fall asleep before he leaves for a business meeting.

Every now and then, he checks if your little collection you had inside has a new member.

Precious stones. Little gems he had tasked Mephisto to carry to you ever since he was courting you. He knows your box can only hold so much so you have moved some to the tin can of imported biscuits he had gifted to you after he returned from one of his business trips.

Dried flowers. All carefully preserved and a bloom from your bridal bouquet still has a small ribbon tied on its stem. Some of them you have put in a scrapbook.

His letters. He writes to you every now and then and here they are, tied together in a small bundle, the first line always starting with 'My Dearest', a comma, and then followed by your name.

Everything seemed to be in place-

-Or maybe he spoke too soon.

Beneath the bundle of letters, above the gems and dried blooms is something small.

Something soft.

Something plain.

A little sock.

“Do you think it would fit our little dragon?”

“Our little dragon could be a fawn, sweetie.”

Sylus didn’t turn to face you just yet so you wrapped your arms around his waist but he doesn’t have to turn around for you to know how misty his eyes are.

If one wishes hard enough, someone is bound to hear, someone is bound to listen, and someone is bound to bestow.

Two crows and a little dove.

Two wolf boys and a little sheep.

One dragon, one deer, and in a few months, one will turn into two.

.

.

.

.

.

In Sylus’ house you turned into a home, his odd family grows.

────────────────────

Author's Note:

Is the CW valid? I mean, it technically is smut, right?

(My first time writing a scene like that ngl but I think it turned out ok or maybe my beta reader and I are delusional. I'll only know when I read this fic again after 1 year.)

There is still one chapter after this. I did say I split the epilogue into two parts! (Tbh, I don't think this is an epilogue, they are like, OVAs or something.)

I left so many literary references here and there. (Lmk if you are able to catch them 😉)

On to the last chapter (Real)

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[hekateinhell]

Welcome, Armand lovers! I’m so excited it's finally time to share my little project with you! 🖤

From November 1 - December 5, I'll be hosting Good to Embrace, Good to Love, a fandom event celebrating Armand's relationships with his four greatest loves—Marius, Lestat, Louis, and Daniel—from the book series The Vampire Chronicles.

Each week will be dedicated to one of these ships, with a bonus week of prompts that can be used for some of the many others Armand has loved in his long immortal life i.e., Bianca, Nicolas, etc.

There will be two prompts per day: a quote from the books that represents an aesthetic of the ship + a word/sentence prompt. Do one, do both, combine them—it doesn't matter as long as you have fun!

AUs and genderswaps are more than welcome!

𝕲𝖚𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

Submissions can include fic, art, meta, headcanons, graphics, playlists, crafts, whatever!

Submissions must focus on a romantic and/or sensual element of the ship. It is ship fest, after all!

Ship combinations (threesomes or more) are also welcome—you decide which week you want to post! For example: an Armand/Lestat/Louis fic can be posted either during Week 2 (Lestat) or Week 3 (Louis).

Bonus week prompts can be used for whatever Armand ship your heart desires! And if you want to use them for Marius, Lestat, Louis, or Daniel, go for it!

Tag your submissions #ArmandShipFest and I’ll do my best to reblog! 🖤

AO3 collection here!

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖚𝖙!

Day 1: “A blending of sadness and simple grace” / Love Affair with Damnation

Day 2: “You took my blood and it made you my slave” / Greedy Creature

Day 3: “I would have given all the world to see him white again, my marble god, my graven Father in our private bed.” / Paternal

Day 4: “My frankly carnal embraces” / Fateful Moment

Day 5: “I want to be a fool for you.” / Bruise

Day 6: “Be my challenger, be my questioner, be my bold and ungrateful pupil.” / Rebirth

Day 7: FREE DAY

Day 1: “Cinderella revealed at the ball” / Succubus

Day 2: “You break my heart, you little fool. You always did.” / Heartbreaker

Day 3: “Stinging insults and worshipful analyses” / Yearning

Day 4: “You look good to me, you damnable little devil” / Fatal Attraction

Day 5: “I wanted to polish him with kisses, clean him up, make him even more radiant than he was.” / Dress Up

Day 6: “I hate you as much as I have ever loved you.” / Enemies to Lovers or Lovers to Enemies

Day 7: FREE DAY

Day 1: “The only promise of good in evil of which I could conceive.” / Enchanted

Day 2: “You would yield to me now” / The Alluring Embodiment of Misery

Day 3: “I want you more than anything in the world.” / Evanescent Flush

Day 4: “A stranger to himself and to me.” / Withering Rose

Day 5: “To seek for grace once more” / Pillars of the Household

Day 6: “Elegant phantoms in our lace and velvet” / Flame

Day 7: FREE DAY

Day 1: “I like kissing. And snuggling with dead things” / Cold To The Touch

Day 2: “Let me be a lover in the Savage Garden with you” / Exquisite Monsters

Day 3: “The freedom, the power, and the luxury” / Million Dollar Man

Day 4: Dark-Eyed Cupid / Erotic Anguish

Day 5: “Say the word my love, I'll do it. We'll be in hell together after all.” / Unholy Consequences

Day 6: “There was never any innocence for us, there was never any springtime.” / Hunting In The Rain

Day 7: FREE DAY

Day 1: “These violent delights have violent ends”* / Cage

Day 2: “You look like an angel and hold forth like a tavern knave” / The Devil's Road

Day 3: “Not made by human hands” / Lotus

Day 4: “Yet he seems the naughty boy who mocks all things” / Careless Words

Day 5: “In the very depths of Hell, do demons not love one another?” / Home

Day 6: “Vile precocious child” / Drunk

Day 7: FREE DAY

*This is the only quote not directly lifted from the books, it’s taken from Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet.

**a huge thank you to the lovely @apoptoses for the graphics, and to the Morzoi Girlies (gn) for assisting me with the prompts and always hyping me up! Love you lots. 🖤

[monopersona]

Sins of the Father

Known as the devil, loved by a saint, and father to miracles. He built his empire on blood and fire, but his legacy will not be the darkness—it will be the laughter of his children, the quiet sanctuary he shields from the world he ruled. Some call it redemption, but Sylus knows better. The past will always linger as a shadow that never truly fades, but neither does the light. He was never a good man, but he is a good father. And for them—for her—he will try to be better. A reflection of Sylus and his journey into fatherhood.

Sylus x Named MC. Family, fluff with a little darkness but mostly reflective. Sylus will forever be a doting father and husband I'm going to cry. 2380 words.

A/N: Heyyy it's Nona back with yet another Sylus fic. I have always wanted to write something that was a bit more reflective on how Sylus came to be a father and his journey as one. I kid you not, this took me 10 rewrites in over 2 weeks lol but I like how it turned out. Happy reading!

You can read on ao3 here

Series master list here

Sylus had long learned to live in two worlds.

He liked to see them as light and shadow. At home, he was a husband and father—a man who loved, doted on, and cared for his children with the love of his life. His family had become his beacon of light. It was the world where Lili stood beside him, where Aria’s laughter echoed through the hallways, where Kai’s small feet ran around the gardens without a care in the world.

When he wasn’t basking in that light, he lurked in the shadows—a path paved in blood and gold that he had built and refined over the years. One that demanded ruthlessness and precision. He had shaped it, and in turn, it had shaped him. Sylus loved the shadows, but as time passed, he had come to realize that he couldn’t live without his light.

Family had always been a foreign concept. It was something that seemed to belong to other people but never to someone like him. His childhood had been a harsh teacher, and the road he walked on was not one that allowed him to indulge in the illusions of a family. For a long time, Sylus had believed the shadows were all he would ever know. He simply believed he didn’t have the capacity to build a life beyond it.

But then he met Lili, and loving her had been the easiest thing he had ever done. There was no universe, no reality, in which he would deny her. Even then, she had never asked him to be anything other than himself. She made space for herself in his life but never demanded that he change.

Over the years, they built a life together—one that allowed them to exist in both their shared world and their individual ones. Sylus had no issue with this. Lili deserved to pursue her passions, and he would never make her give up anything she didn’t want to, so they made it work. But even after marrying her, he had never imagined himself as a father. He had come to realize later that it wasn’t that he didn’t think he was capable—it was that he had never allowed himself to want it.

And then came Aria.

Lili’s pregnancy had been a cruel one. Every month was a battle against the limits of her body—especially her heart. When she went into premature labor, Sylus had nearly lost both of them. He still remembered the blinding panic, the helplessness that clawed at his throat as he watched Lili fight for her life that day. He had known many kinds of fear in his life, but nothing compared to that moment.

In the end, they survived. And when Sylus held his daughter for the first time, something in him shifted.

He was struck by how fragile she was. She had thick white hair that was so much like his, Lili’s deep brown eyes that looked up at him in adoration, and tiny fists that clung to his fingers without hesitation—the pure, unwavering trust of someone who had never known cruelty. She was untouched by the darkness he had spent his life navigating. She was perfect, and she was his to protect. In that moment, he swore that no matter what it took, he would uphold his duty.

Sylus had always believed that sin was absolute. Once you stepped into the dark, there was no return to the light. Regret was useless; redemption was a lie. He had made his choices and had no illusions about what he was. But now, he had more than Lili to consider. Lili had walked into their relationship knowing the man he was, and it was a risk she had been willing to take. But Aria was innocent. She had never asked for this life, never chosen to be born to a father who had shadows that trailed his every step. And so, for the first time in his life, Sylus chose to draw a line between his two worlds.

Where the lines had once blurred between business and home, they became sharp and immovable. He restructured, built legitimate fronts, and eliminated dead weight. It took a while, but he meticulously planned and executed a system of protection so intricate that no enemy or ally could ever betray him without digging their own grave in the process. He wasn’t naïve, after all. Humans were predictable—easily broken by the right pressure if they hadn’t already been bought at the right price. He spent years ensuring there would be no loose ends (or lips). By the time Aria was old enough to enter preschool, there was nothing—nothing—that could tie her to his other life, even as they continued to exist side by side.

Four years after Aria, Lili and Sylus were blessed with Kai. His arrival only reinforced Sylus’s determination. He had already secured his family’s safety and future; Kai’s arrival simply proved that he had done the right thing. His empire remained, but his children would never inherit its sins.

Fatherhood was expressed not through grand promises but through his actions—through scraped knees bandaged with hands that once took lives, lunchboxes packed instead of ammos, parent-teacher conferences he went to with the same enthusiasm as protocore auctions. His presence became his promise. Over the years, Sylus had found that there was something sacred about the ordinary rituals that came with raising children. He would never trade that feeling—that purpose—for anything in the world.

Silent protection was a craft he had mastered. When you live in the world he did, expecting the worst out of people was not an unrealistic expectation. Lili watched in amusement as he twisted his paranoia into something a little more wholesome, a little more poetic. She saw the way he lingered outside Aria's door during sleepovers, counting breaths under the guise of adjusting the thermostat. Or how he taught Kai to throw punches not for violence but for confidence. His vigilance hid in plain sight—reinforced steel in the treehouse under the fairy lights, panic buttons behind crayon drawings, background checks disguised as small talk, daggers kept sharp beneath Aria and Kai’s floorboards, and of course there was also Mephisto. Despite all that, his children only knew tenderness. They found it in the way their father pretended not to see them during hide-and-seek, how he held them on nights when thunder and nightmares haunted them, or the way his stern expression always softened at the sight of them coming home from school.

And much as Sylus loved doting on his children, discipline in his household was always firm but never cruel. He had seen what fear could do to a child—had once been shaped by it himself—and had vowed his own would never flinch at the sound of his voice. When Aria tested her limits as a teenager, he held firm, kept his expectations clear, and made sure his patience remained unshaken. And when Kai, years later, confessed his self-doubt—worrying about his future and wondering if he could ever measure up to his father—Sylus simply ruffled his hair and told him, “You are your own person.”

Yet, for all his efforts to separate the worlds he balanced, there were nights when the weight of the darkness lingered too heavily. When things got too close. During these times, he would come back to the simple things—the sound of Lili’s voice calling his name, the laughter of his children echoing through the halls, the small, everyday moments that tethered him to the life he had built. They were his anchor.

Many years have passed since then. It wasn’t an easy journey by any means, but they made it. Eventually Aria went to university, Kai entered his final year of high school, Lili had moved up the ranks at the Association, and Sylus found himself growing older in a thousand ways. He had welcomed all these changes with open arms, even though sometimes he mourns how the time passes by so quickly. 

Tonight, he returned home from a meeting near Whitesand Bay (N109 was an area he rarely visited ever since the restructure. That was mostly Luke and Kieran’s thing now). The negotiations had been tense, but Sylus had left with what he wanted and no blood spilled. 

As he approached the door to his house, he felt the weight of his other world still clinging to him like a second skin he could never fully shed. The cold air bit at his face as he exhaled slowly, willing the remnants of the night to stay outside before he stepped in. 

The living room was warm and softly illuminated by golden light. It had been years since the house was filled with the chaotic energy of childhood—no scattered toys, no hurried footsteps echoing through the halls, no screaming or crying. But tonight, it felt alive again.

 “Surprise!” 

Sylus turned just in time to see Aria standing by the staircase with a big smile across her face. She had grown into a striking young woman, her sharp intellect and confidence evident in the way that she carried herself. Her usual long white hair was cropped short in a bob now, her features a mix of Lili’s softness and his own sharper edges. But all he could see was the tiny baby girl he held that day at the hospital. 

He didn’t ask why she was here. She never needed a reason to visit, after all. This will always be her home. Still, he raised a brow at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be drowning in law school assignments?” 

“I finished early,” she said, walking over to wrap her arms around him. “And I think I’m going to stay here for a week and just drive to classes. I missed home.” 

Sylus hugs his baby tighter, as if she’d disappear if he let his hold loose for just a second. “Well, home has missed you, too. Have you eaten?” 

Before Aria could respond, a groggy, mildly annoyed voice interrupted them. “What’s going on?” Kai trudged into the living room, his dark hair sticking up in every direction, crimson eyes heavy with sleep. He was already taller than Sylus at just eighteen. Leaner, but still growing into his frame. “Why is it so loud?” 

Aria squinted at her younger brother. “It’s eight in the evening, Kai. Normal people are awake.” 

“Normal people don’t have morning practice and exams.” He yawned before dropping onto the couch. “Hey, Dad.” 

Sylus nodded at him. “Have you eaten yet?” 

“Aria brought home food. It was really good.” 

“Yes, I did!” Aria leaned back from the hug just enough to grab her father’s hand and pull him to the dining area. “I got you and Mom’s favorite. Kai actually set it up earlier on the table.” 

Lili emerged from upstairs. She had aged as much as him, and he still burned for her just as much as he did when they were in their twenties—if not more. Seeing her now in a long dress that hugged the curves of her body just right and how she ran a hand through her brown and grey strands had him already thinking about what he’d like to do to her tonight. “Some things never really change,” she would say.

A knowing smile laid on her lips. She glanced at Sylus, reading him as easily as she always had. “Long day?” 

“Not more than usual.” 

She hummed, unconvinced, but didn’t push. Instead, she walked over and kissed his cheek before murmuring, “Go eat.” And so he did. 

Home.

It wasn’t a grand moment. There were no dramatic revelations, no intense declarations. Just this—his daughter’s unexpected visit, his son waking up late (or rather, going to sleep early and being disturbed), his wife still knowing him so well and seeing through him after all these years. The quiet assurance that they were all safe and loved. He cherished it.

Later, when the kids had settled—Aria chatting about her classes, Kai half-listening while scrolling on his phone—Sylus sat beside Lili on the balcony attached to their bedroom, his fingers brushing against hers. 

"You don’t have to carry everything alone,” she told him, voice soft in the dim light. 

“I’m not.” 

She let out a dry laugh, but there was no malice behind it. “You still think you can keep every threat at bay by the sheer force of will, huh?” 

He let out a quiet hum, his fingers absently tracing circles on her wrist. “And you think I can’t?” 

Lili sighed, but there was no frustration in it. “That’s not the point.” She wasn’t asking him to change. She never had. Instead, she squeezed his hand and murmured, “Just remember that I’m here for you. Whatever it is. I think we’ve been through it all almost thirty years running by now.” 

Sylus closed his eyes. “I know.” And he did. He didn’t know what he did to deserve it, but he was grateful nonetheless. “Thank you.” Some nights, he still patrolled the empty halls—fingertips tracing the doorframes where height marks chronicled childhoods that passed by in the blink of an eye. Another realization that came to be was that the real test of fatherhood came in restraint. Watching Aria inherit his temper but not his ruthlessness, seeing Kai make choices he wouldn’t, and choosing not to interfere when the consequences were manageable. They had to live their lives, and so he allows them their own learning curve as they navigated the world in a way only the know how. As long as it didn’t put them in real danger, that is. In their independence, he found his greatest victory: they feared nothing, especially not him. And when they will eventually ask about his past? He will tell them truths carefully measured—not to burden, not to expose them to a darker world, but to remind them how far he had come for them. Some would call the life he lived some sort of redemption. Sylus didn’t believe in such things. But he did believe in one thing: Aria and Kai would never walk his path. choAnd that was all that mattered.

A/N: What did you think of it? Let me know! I say this a lot lately but as someone who's trying to get back into writing, any feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day/night!